#you can’t really change a stubborn parent’s mind
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You once said that your version of Emilie is a menace, but not a "villain." Does that mean she'll eventually come to her senses and let her son live his life his way? (I'm sorry, please forgive me. I'm sort of a sucker for her and have always advocated to be a protagonist who learns from her mistakes)
So she’s not a villain because she truly wants what’s best for Adrien and usually isn’t acting selfishly.
HOWEVER,
She has a very narrow view of what she considers beneficial to him, which is why I consider her an antagonist. Near the end she’ll realize she has no/lost control over him, and maybe have the revelation that her son is his own person?? I think she’s so hands-on with him is because she’s worried he’s been lost so long without her. Like she’s been comatose for what? Almost 10 years? She still sees him as a child who always came running to her and needed her comfort, someone she had to protect. So I think once he finally stands up and says he won’t just do as she says anymore (through saying he’ll not break up with Marinette) she’ll realize that he’s not that kid anymore!! But then it’ll lead to her trying to set him up with Cerise, so I’m not too sure about the “learning from mistakes” aspect of her character.
#thank you for the ask!! <3#chocoau#chocoau char#PERSONALLY I have a parent who is similar to Emelie#miraculous au#and so I’m probably EXTREMELY biased but#you can’t really change a stubborn parent’s mind#SORRY EMELIE APOLOGIST </3
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Frat Boy!Gojo
Daquiri: splash of cold water
Word Count: 3.8k Contents: angst, cursing, some dark themes, violence, Gojo's pov, highkey rushed and not proofread so bear with me pleaseeee
“I’m disappointed in you.”
Satoru rolls his eyes. He’s been hearing that line for as long as he could remember — from his mother, father, teachers, friends, and especially from his grandfather, who sits on the opposite side of the mahogany desk.
It was stupidly early in the morning when he was roused from sleep by Ijichi, the family’s Head of Staff. He has all sorts of titles, but the family dog is the most fitting. Truthfully, he’s a good guy. Somewhat of a friend. But damn, is he annoying?
Being hurriedly shoved in a car, half naked and still sleepy, Satoru had no choice but to follow along as he was dragged out and into the Gojo estate to meet with the head of the clan, practically paraded for all the snivelling, grubby-handed relatives and gossiping staff. Not the first time, for sure. One could even say he's used to it.
Of course, if he could avoid it, he'd never come here. Anyone with half a mind would hate it here. The people who live here hate it here. Sure, it’s all pretty with the beautiful woodcraft furniture, extravagant decor and lush gardens, but it’s a really big place, and it gets really lonely. The worst part, though? Running into people. He can’t stand seeing family members who either look at him with scorn for being the heir, which he never asked to be, by the way, or try to kiss his ass.
But worst of all, he can’t stand the look of shame on his grandfather’s face.
Older than he remembered, the man sits, hands clasped on a knee, legs crossed, and leaning back on the leather chair, no doubt crafted by hand by some artistic genius or other. His face has deepened with age, marred by years of experience and carrying the burden of leading the clan. It couldn’t have been easy, even if he had made it look as such, and it’s precisely why Satoru’s spent most of his life running from him and all that he represents.
“Yeah, I know,” he yawns.
Grandpa sighs. “I would have thought some time away in university would teach you to grow up. Yet, there you sit before me, just as immature as you were at eighteen, ten and two.”
Satoru, frowning, resists the urge to mumble some petty comeback. It wasn’t true, anyway. He’s matured a lot. Especially in the last couple of months when he was literally engaged and oh so close to walking down the aisle. That’s enough to send anyone into an early grave, so how much more mature did he need to be?
Hearing a lack of a reply, the older man asks, “You resent me, yes? For springing the engagement on you?”
“I won’t say no.”
It’s always the same story between them: two stubborn men, one old, the other young. Two sides of the same coin. When he was younger, his grandfather was his role model. His hero. At tedious and stupid family meetings, the older man would wink at him and slide a piece of candy over; they had secret games, sharing whole conversations with just their eyes. He was his first best friend. The leader of their precious clan, the man who struck fear in the most powerful men in the world, was who the boy would run to when he tripped and scratched his knees, when his parents would fight, and when kids at school would pick at him.
The man cared for him more than his parents did. He practically raised Satoru. But then, as the boy grew older, they saw each other less and less. No special reason. Life got in the way. Responsibilities and yada yada yada. Then, his grandmother died, and the ones left behind were never the same after. In an inevitable twist of fate, more and more, those meetings turned him from pitiful observant, forced to bear witness to petty squabbling, to the very subject of those meetings.
They changed from grandfather and grandson to Head and Heir, and there was no Spare to hide behind.
“Satoru, son," he begins, pulling his thin-frame glasses off, "do tell, what was so wrong with being engaged to that young woman? To stepping up. To maturing and doing your part for this family?”
He groans. “You don’t get it. It isn’t about her. It’s about being engaged at all. They don’t get to make that choice for me. They don’t get to throw me into their schemes and plans when they know I want nothing to do with it. Any of it!”
“A boy so smart, with eyes that see more than they let on, with strength that surpasses us all, and yet you cannot see past yourself, past your own truth. That is the true disappointment. Not your acts of rebellion, not your games, but your refusal to rise to the occasion.”
Talking to the old man is like talking to a brick wall. Always lecturing him with riddles and think pieces. Satoru wants to leave. He’s having a terrible time as it is, what with the media whirlwind he has caused and the fact that he's still recovering from the bruising his friends had given him for ‘being a dumbass prick.’ He’s been holed up in his room, refusing to see anyone who wasn’t beautiful and adorned in black lace. Even as parties raged on below, nothing could tempt him to face the world. No classes had been attended, though that's just standard practice, and he didn't even check up on social media; he was scared he'd see her having fun without him, he supposed.
Partly out of stubbornness and partly from shame, he didn’t reach out to the one person he so desperately wanted to. He was pretty sure she wouldn't want to see him after what he did. After he decided everything on her behalf, he blew up at her at dinner, left her to deal with their parents, and never answered her messages after that.
Fuck.
He's gonna die alone.
“Can I go, Gramps? I want to talk to her.”
A strange look passed over the man’s face. Satoru couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand, couldn’t even begin to know what it meant. But whatever it was, it made him sit up.
“You can’t.”
He closed his eyes. Tight. “What do you mean?
A fist falls on the desk. Satoru is jolted from his thoughts.
“Satoru, she is engaged.”
Groaning, the younger man, exasperated and completely done, bolts out of his chair, shoving it forward as he feels the morning chill settle on his bare chest — they hadn’t even dressed him before ruining his day. “No, she isn’t. That was the point: to break the engagement by going to the media and telling them it was forced. Which it was, by the way. Thanks for having my back, Gramps. So, if it’s all the same to you, I gotta go wine and dine her and apologise. Maybe hit up a vampire shop and communicate in her language or sacrifice a child — don't tell her I said that. I'm tryna be better.”
He doesn't wait for a reply or notice the deadly silence that hangs in the air, suffocating and all-consuming. It's wild and unwise youth that takes him away without questioning the real reason he's been taken in his sleep. Years of shrugging off everyone who wasn't his age, wasn't drunk or stupid, had dulled his senses.
Halfway to the door, stomping and muttering under his breath, the next words that come out of his grandfather’s mouth stop him dead in his tracks. A chill settles over his skin, clawing down his back. Sudden ringing deafens him, and he swears the room shifts, swaying him where he stands.
“No. What? When?” Hearing only a tense sigh as a reply, Satoru grits out, “When?”
“Tonight.”
Satoru whirls around. “Who is she marrying?”
“Sit down.”
“No!” He screams.
This is impossible.
She was his just days ago.
This entire time, he had thought he’d taken a step back and was preparing to return, to go further, to promise himself in ways he couldn’t have under that restrictive alliance, but he’s just been showered in an ice-cold bucket of reality; hehadn’t stepped back. He had pushed her away. Shoved her.
All the way into the arms of another man.
Which man didn’t matter. Or maybe it did.
He can’t think. Knees threatening to buckle, he can only try to catch his breath as dread settles in the pit of his stomach. Over the years, he had met many Zenins — it’s impossible not to run into them. And every single instance, every single one of them, left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were awful. Arrogant, spoiled, cruel, downright monstrous.
Would she have been paired up with someone closer in age? If that were the case, only one person comes to mind. No.
No.
No.
Not him.
Feeling like he’s going to laugh and cry and scream at the same time, his voice lowers, fragmented and weak. So weak. “S-she can’t marry him. She can’t. H-he’ll hurt her. Crush her spirit. Fuck!”
Men come into the room, pinning him to the ground as books, vases and paintings are thrown around. He doesn't remember how his body moved, how his arms reached for anything and everything he could, and whose hands were on him. It all passes by in a blur. He can’t recall who tore down what and whose blood he spills, whether it's his own or someone just doing their job. Everything's hurting, and, at the same time, nothing is.
One thing he does remember is the shake of his grandfather's head and the glasses neatly folded on a damaged desk.
Restrained and barely conscious, he’s dragged somewhere and locked.
This is his fault. In his pursuit to liberate her — both of them — he had inadvertently trapped her, driven her into the clutches of a man who’d place her on a mantel.
Regret weighs him down. Everything has gone to shit. How could he fix this? Fix them?
Would she want him to?
No, she would. Of course, she would. No matter how annoying, irritating, and irresponsible he is, Zenin could never be preferred. Not by anyone. Not when she deserves so much more. Someone who understands, who’d appreciate her artistry, her grace, elegance and intelligence. Someone better than both of them. Someone who wouldn’t be so impulsive and immature. Who wouldn’t react the way he had.
Whatever she feels for him or against him, Satoru swears he will fix it. He’d free her the way she was supposed to be the entire time. And she can go wherever she wants. Be with whoever she wants.
Even if it isn’t him.
———
“Tell me everything,” he demands.
The old Gojo has never seen his grandson quite so serious. Having marched back into his office an hour later with bruised knuckles and a torn lip, he had approached the desk with a calmness that set an uneasy mood in the room. He’s dressed now, at least. Wearing jeans and a grey hoodie a maid had dropped off, Satoru sits, filling up a new leather seat, legs spread and fingers pressed to his lips as if to hide their pursing. Seemingly collected to anyone else, Grandpa Gojo knew better.
His knee is bouncing impatiently, fingers drumming, and the way those familiar blue eyes are honed in onto every rise and fall of the chest of the older man in front of him, every twitch, every blink, and even on the dust that settles between them betrayed the peaceful facade he wears like armour.
Sighing, he relents, and so, the older man gets settled in and prepares for the storm.
“Your grandmother was the person I loved most in the world,” he began.
“She was just a servant when we met. Young, beautiful, and the most headstrong woman I ever met, even then. No one at that point, or ever, dared glare at me or turn their nose up. She resented me for being a spoiled boy. Of course, she wasn’t wrong to dislike me; I was, admittedly, not a very conscientious young man then. Much like you, I skirted around my responsibilities and allowed others to take the fall. I never wanted this life, and truthfully, I didn’t think I would be well-suited.”
This is the most his grandfather has ever revealed about his past and despite the fact that he knows time is against him, Satoru listens intently. That's the man's cursed gift. Mesmerised by the charming baritone of the head of the clan, his fingers stop drumming against the armrest and he envisions a life not his and has since long past.
“But your grandmother changed my life. She was never afraid to let me know when she thought I was doing something wrong. You remember the face she makes, don't you, son? All scrunched up and disapproving. That woman had a way of making you want to impress her.”
Chuckling to himself, he continues, “She made me want to be better. To be deserving of her. That continued well into our marriage. All that you see of our empire, far-reaching and ever-developing as it is, could not have been achieved without her. Every setback I ever faced was only made bearable because she’d smile at me as if I could get back up and try again. Do you understand what I’m telling you, son?”
“Grandma was great?”
His grandfather pinches the bridge of his nose. “No. Well, yes. But no, Satoru. What I’m saying is, women make us better. Not just any woman, but the one. I could not have managed for as long as I did without her. Even now, when she has been gone a long time, my ability to tolerate your ridiculous, weak and greedy aunts and uncles, and indeed your lousy parents, has been because of her. Because I hold memories of her in my heart. Because I can hear her voice guiding me to the right decisions. I want that for you, son.”
A sinking realisation made the younger man’s mouth dry. He sits up. And with an accusatory tone, he says, “It was you. You set us up.”
He was disgusted with his parents for stooping so low, for prioritising wealth and reputation over their son’s wellbeing again. And yet, the entire time, it had been him, the man who he thought was on his side. Always. Satoru thought he could turn to his grandfather for help, and he had actually deluded himself into thinking the man would be proud of him for having resolved it himself — or at least, attempted to.
“Yes. I did.”
“Why? Why would you do this to me? To her?” There’s a strain in Satoru’s voice. The wood of the armrest creaks under the deadly grip he’s inflicting. Tension rides through his body, an animal ready to pounce, to rip it all to pieces. If he hadn’t been set up like this, she’d be free; he wouldn’t have driven her into the arms of a Zenin, and she wouldn’t hate him for ruining her life. Maybe they could have even run into each other on campus and had just been a boy and a girl searching for something real in a sea of greys and beiges.
Grandpa Gojo leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together. Then, as if looking into the distance, he recounts yet another story from his past, one Satoru hadn’t been a part of.
“Not that long ago, I had attended a funeral for a great woman I once knew. It was your average affair: faux sincerity, faceless crowds, off-hours negotiations. Truly dull.”
The younger man knows all too well how those events go. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t enjoy his own frat parties; they remind him too much of the parties he had grown up in.
“Just a few years before that, as you know, we buried your grandmother in the very same place but in our own family plot. It's nice, or rather, as nice as those dreadful things can get. But she loved this little clearing far back in the forest behind the cathedral. Said she grew up playing in that land with her siblings. We used to have dates there, back when we were in our youth and we had to hide our relationship. Did I ever tell you my father never approved? Ah well, a story for another day. Where was I? Oh right. To commemorate her death, in my own personal way, I built a swing set. Two seats. For her and for me. Every time I missed her and the grief overwhelmed me, I’d visit, and I swear I could feel her with me.”
Satoru, breathless, feels the ground cave from under him.
“I don’t get to visit as often as I’d like, a consequence of being who I am. But I am sure to maintain it. And at that funeral, I was given an opportunity to see the fruits of my labour and, as you do so very often, I snuck away. I don't mean to encourage that behaviour but I think I get a pass for being so generally well-behaved, no? Anyways, son, all the way out there, I saw a young girl.”
The grandson is standing before he even realises it. “You saw her?”
“I saw a girl coming into her own. I saw a melancholy air about her and a certain sadness that I could relate to. Why, she reminded me of myself, of my wife, and of you, all at once. Like the universe had aligned, I felt my wife guiding me to her last gift. In that moment, without ever exchanging a word with her, I knew she was special. In the way I recalled mygrandson was special. Is special. I left her to herself — she was grieving, after all. But I could never forget that little girl who had been abandoned by the adults around her, left to deal with the dangers of solitude. Through the years, I kept track of her, and, as a consequence of the family business being passed from the great woman I knew to her son, I watched her father drive their family to ruin with his gambling addiction, her mother dig her manicured claws in and twist, chasing thrill in luxury goods and losing herself in a flurry of white dust. Through it all, that little —no, that budding young woman — stood tall. But we all have limits, son."
There's a pathetic sense of jealousy growing in the white-haired boy. His grandfather's reminding him of how tiny his pool of knowledge regarding her really is. All he had done the past couple months was argue with her when he should have been at her side 24/7, begging her for every morsel of information.
Gulping, he shifts in his seat. "Limit?"
"She lost her dear friend. And rock bottom came soon after. Chained to a hospital bed, she took care of him when no one else would. But that is far too much responsibility for anyone. Once again, I saw you in her. Both running away from the problem, searching for comfort at the bottom of a bottle, and filling that void with countless people whose names you could not even begin to list. It was a pity.”
Reeling, Satoru tries to make sense of it all. The nonchalance in his grandfather’s words sends his blood boiling. Everything. Every second. Every fucking person in his life is a product of someone’s manipulation. Always. “So what? You wanted to help her out by bringing her into our family?”
“Well, yes.”
“That’s bull. Why couldn’t you just give her money? Why not build up her family's business like you do with literally everyone in this family if she's so special? Why go through this elaborate scheme? Why play games?”
Grandpa Gojo shakes his head. He looks thoroughly disappointed in his grandson and when he responds after a second or two of further thought, his voice reveals the age that has been wearing him down more and more. “Because when I go, I’d like to be certain you have somebody like I did, Satoru. Because you are young and you need guidance.”
It has become clearer than ever before: she was sent as a final nail in his coffin.
Satoru finds himself getting back up onto his feet, hands flailing in the air and a furrow in his brows.
“Now what? Huh? Your stupid games got her as good as dead. What are you going to do now?”
She's going to be a Zenin by the end of the day and he's going to have to watch her spirit fade at every ridiculous function for some charity event no attendant of the party could even hold a conversation about. They'll pass each other by like strangers, like two ships in the night, like nothing they shared had even happened. Was it better to have mattered for even just a second than to be nothing to each other?
SLAM!
A heavy fist quakes the mahogany desk, rattling every bone in the young man’s body.
“We are the most powerful family in the country! We rule with both hands on a shield and a sword. A sword, Satoru. And deny it all you want, son, but the brutal truth will always be that you are not just a Gojo, not just a powerful man, a boy with a trust fund. You are the Gojo heir. A god among men! What you want is the will of our clan, don't you understand, my boy? Power courses through your veins. Limitless. Infinite. Accept it. For you, alone, are the honoured one. Embrace it. Use it. Weaponise it."
When two pairs of eyes collide, one sees himself in the other and, after years of being at opposite ends, repelled by the weight of responsibility that hung between them, they finally arrive at the same page. After all those misunderstandings, all those stern talking to's, those never-ending arguments and disappointments neither could speak about, they're finally, finally friends again.
One of them almost smiled.
"So, what are you going to do?”
Satoru has one hand on the door and the other on his phone in a flash. For the first time in his entire life, he knows what to do. That thing that has been haunting him, forcing him deeper into the facade of an inconsiderate fratboy, brews to the surface. The privilege he had always considered a burden and a curse, that he had locked away and allowed to collect dust on, becomes his very lifeline.
“I’m gonna get my girl back.”
#jjk angst#Gojo x reader#gojo angst#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fic#jjk x you#gojo satoru#modern au
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(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special



⭐ starring: vernon
🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air.
tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day
☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ merry christmas my loves!
11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”
Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-
“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”
He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”
Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”
Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it.
CHRISTMAS DAY 2003:
Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground.
“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.
Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?”
Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised.
“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”
Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word.
“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.”
Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”
Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.”
Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned.
CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:
“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.
She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”
She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.”
--
“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met.
Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.”
“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”
“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?
One Christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.
10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:
Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene.
She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.
Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.
It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.
Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister.
“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
She was greeted by a slightly taller, blond man, sporting black rimmed glasses and holding a cup of iced coffee. Her mind short circuiting a bit from the sudden Korean, she paused, trying to recollect her thoughts before replying. “I don’t think so?”
The man’s eyes widened in sudden recognition. “You’re the girl in the Christmas photos!” He exclaimed with wonder, pointing at her as if they were long lost friends.
She squinted, giving him another look over. “Um..” She frowned, quite sure she didn’t know this man.
“Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly at her, extending his hand for a handshake. “That probably came out wrong. You’re Vernon’s friend from New York, right? I’ve seen you in the pictures on his wall.”
She blanched, all of a sudden feeling very light and disoriented. “I’m sorry.” She smiled politely, still racking her brain furiously for the guy’s name. “How do you know Vernon?”
“I’m Seungkwan.” He explained, dropping her hand. “Vernon’s bandmate.”
She let out a sound of realization. “Ah~” She knew who he was. “Seungkwan. Sorry, I didn’t expect you to have blonde hair now.”
Chuckling at her shy admission, Seungkwan felt strangely sad to see the girl in Korea. “When did you come to Korea?” He asked, knowing Vernon would lose his shit if he found out they had been in the same location for a while.
“I arrived just last night.”
He left out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Okay, at least it hadn’t been very long. “You should come to our Christmas party.” He suggested, knowing Vernon would be there. “It’s being hosted at Coups hyung’s house this year, and everyone will be there.”
Y/N shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to make things weird.” She already caught on to the fact that Seungkwan knew all about her and Vernon’s falling out, or lack of one.
“You wouldn’t.” He insisted. “You must come. I’d hate to see you spend Christmas by yourself.”
It didn’t take much for Y/N to relent. She supposed a part of her had been looking for a chance to see Vernon again. “Alright. I’ll stop by and say a quick hi to everyone.”
Seungkwan’s smile was contagious as he beamed, grabbing a napkin to scribble Scoups’ address onto it and handing it to her. “It’s at 7pm on the 24th. Bring a present- something small.” He hurriedly gave her all the details as he left, mumbling about being late for a company meeting and how lovely it was to finally meet Vernon’s mystery girl.
Holding the napkin in her still freezing hand, Y/N felt utterly shipwrecked as she watched Seungkwan leave. Nine days was enough to prepare her heart to see Vernon again, right?
12 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:
The frost in the air bit at Y/N’s face and neck as she quickly rang the doorbell to Seungcheol’s home. It was smaller than she had expected it to be, homey and comfortably situated in between two other larger houses.
“Y/N!” Seungkwan greeted her as he opened the door, tugging her in. “Oh, look at you. You must be freezing. Come in, come in.” Taking her coat from her and hanging it up, he beamed down at her. “I’m so glad you actually came.”
She bit back a smile, taking off her shoes. “I couldn’t turn down an invitation from Vernon’s friends.”
“Vernon’s in the living room with the others.” Seungkwan pointed down the hall, directing her over.
Y/N paused, loitering in the hallway between the door to the living room and the door to the kitchen. She felt strangely pulled towards the kitchen, knowing it’d be safe without the chance of a potential run-in with Vernon. Turning decisively towards the kitchen, she pretended not to hear Seungkwan’s deep sigh as he followed her in, knowing the boy was disappointed she had run away.
“It’s the girl from Vernon’s photos!” Hoshi sprung off the kitchen island to greet her, handing her a cup of mystery liquid.
She sniffed it before cringing away at the strong liquor scent. “That’s me.” She mumbled, shoulders sagging a little. “Does he really still have photos of me up?
Everyone in the kitchen nodded simultaneously. “It’s been on his wall since we were trainees.” Joshua informed her, his eyes holding a teasing glint. “Every time we move places he just puts it back up.”
Y/N didn’t really know what to do with that information. “Oh.” She replied, looking down in her cup, thinking. “I didn’t know that.”
Seungkwan let out a loud sigh once again. “You should go talk to him.”
She looked up.
“Please.” He added, his tone bordering on begging. “He’s been so grumpy. Especially during the holiday season. I got a pillow to the face for asking him a simple question yesterday.” He grumbled out, complaining about his moody roommate.
“What did you ask him?” Joshua asked, mildly curious.
Seungkwan shrugged. “Just if he was going back to New York.”
“Of course he threw a pillow at you.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised he didn’t just deck you, with how you were antagonizing him. You know very well he hasn’t gone back in years.”
Y/N watched the conversation silently, gagging quietly as she sipped the concoction Hoshi had handed her. She absorbed the information diligently, her eyes widening the more information she got on Vernon. Distance had turned him into a stranger - and now, well, she couldn’t really say she knew him at all. It was strange, having to admit someone she used to read like the back of her own hand was someone she now didn’t know at all.
“I’m going to the living room.” She decided, having had enough of the topic. If she kept listening to them talk about Vernon’s struggles and heartache about leaving her in New York one more minute she might find herself leaving for the night. Being in the same room with Vernon was just going to be awkward silence anyways. She knew he wasn’t brave enough to approach her. At least not tonight.
--
“Y/N!”
It was Mingyu and Wonwoo who greeted her from the couch, the two of them in the middle of an intense round of what looked to be Mariokart. They waved at her from their place, inviting her over to sit next to them. She was painfully aware of Vernon’s eyes staring at her from his place on the rug, fingers busy with a random puzzle that was lying out.
“Hi guys.” She smiled, sitting down, laughing when Mingyu pushed Wonwoo in an attempt to disrupt his driving.
“We didn’t know you were in Korea for Christmas!” Mingyu exclaimed. “Good thing Seungkwan bumped into you when he did and invited you over.”
She glanced at Vernon, who was doing his best to pretend like he wasn’t interested in their conversation. “Yeah. I moved here recently actually. Got a job writing for a TV show.”
Vernon’s eyes widened as he fixed his stare against the white rug.
“That’s cool.” Wonwoo smiled at Y/N, happy for her. “It’s good that you’re in Korea now.” He side eyed Vernon, frowning when he realized the boy hadn’t even spoken to Y/N. Nudging him with his foot, he gestured with his gaze. “Did you hear Vernon? Y/N got a job here.”
Vernon nodded stiffly before standing up. “I think Cheol hyung’s calling me, I’ll- I’ll go see what he wants.” And just like that he was gone, rushing out of the living room.
Wonwoo looked apologetically at Y/N. “I’m sorry about that.”
She shrugged, although her heart had cracked at the movement. “It’s okay.”
“Maybe now that you’re in Korea you guys can be friends again?” Mingyu suggested quietly, although a part of him wasn’t really certain about it. “Maybe?”
“Maybe.” She mumbled, taking another sip of her drink, feeling her face flush with heat. Anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell.
Maybe it was the alcohol speaking, but Y/N could feel her lips start to loosen the more she sat with Mingyu and Wonwoo, the party heading later into the night.
“You know I used to hate you guys.” She admitted all of a sudden, jolting both boys out of whatever conversation they were having.
“What?” Wonwoo frowned. “Why?”
“I hated Vernon for choosing you guys over me.” She lowered her eyes to the floor, feeling ashamed. “I know it’s childish of me, but hating you guys was how I dealt with it. I couldn’t bring myself to hate Vernon for his own actions.”
Mingyu looked at her with sad eyes as he patted her on the back gently. “I get that.” He reassured her, and she looked over at Wonwoo who was nodding as well.
“Do you still hate us?” Wonwoo asked, his voice calm.
She shook her head. “No. So I guess I’m just-” She paused. “Confused now.”
She hated how pitiful their looks made her feel as she sat there, nursing her half finished drink, mind spinning. Perhaps it was time to leave her silly childhood infatuation with Vernon in the past. It seemed like he had done so already anyways.
10 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS 2024:
Vernon felt like throwing up the moment he saw Y/N enter the party. It felt like a vision, something he had conjured up within his own mind, until the others had greeted her and shattered his vision into reality.
“Talk to her, you moron.” Seungkwan nudged him. He had retreated from the living room into the kitchen the moment Y/N had sat down with the others on the couch. It physically stung to be in the same room as her, with all the knowledge that he had failed her and their once cherished friendship.
He took another gulp of his drink instead of answering Seungkwan.
“She clearly still loves you, y’know.” The boy continued upon hearing Vernon’s silence. “Or else she wouldn’t be here. And didn’t you always tell us Y/N would follow you around like a puppy whenever you were back home as kids?”
Screw Seungkwan and his amazing, awfully selective memory.
“So?” Vernon mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and feeling himself tense. “Things change.”
“You’ve changed.”
Vernon stared at his friend, thrown off by the sudden harsh truths. “What?”
“I don’t think she’s changed at all, Vernon.” Seungkwan observed. “It’s you who’s changed and you who has to fix it.” He paused. “Or at least explain it to her. Why you don’t want to be friends anymore.”
“I do want to be friends.” He stated plainly.
Seungkwan cut his eyes at him, exasperated. “Then tell her that. Jeez, bro. You suck at this.”
“We’re swapping presents now!” Seungcheol poked his head out from behind the hallway door. “Everyone in the living room!”
Vernon grabbed his present from the counter and headed in behind Seungkwan and Joshua, turning the box in his hands as he examined the poor wrapping job he had done last night. He had bought the most generic gift he could find, knowing it was going to be a random swap with the boys. The thing he hadn’t accounted for was Y/N showing up - and now it had thrown both his present and him off the game.
“Grab a pair.” Seungcheol announced loudly to everyone in the room, as there was a mad scramble for partners.
Vernon found himself standing alone in the midst of his bandmates all already coupled up, limbs tangled together in an awkward mad dash for a partner. His eyes met the only other person with a partner and he stifled a pained cry.
“It looks like you and Y/N are exchanging gifts this year, Non.” Seungkwan shot him a large grin from his spot next to Mingyu.
He knew this had to be preplanned - fate couldn’t be this cruel, right?
“Go on.” Seungkwan poked him in the back, urging him to approach Y/N, who suddenly seemed to be very captivated by a nearby portrait of Seungcheol and Kkmua, placed on the shelf next to her. She stared at it intensely, although Vernon knew she was still hyper-aware of the fact that he was slowly walking towards her. She had that funny way of darting her eyes towards the person she was avoiding while not facing in their direction.
“Y/N.” Her name sounded so foreign yet so familiar across his tongue as he spoke.
“Vernon.”
Her voice felt like coming home.
“Here.” He placed his gift in her hands as he took hers, turning it awkwardly in his hands. “What is it?” He asked, shaking it gently.
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Telling you would defeat the purpose of it being a surprise.”
“You said that last time too.”
He watched her stiffen at his words and he immediately regretted bringing up the past. They both knew last time had been years ago.
“I guess I did.” She replied stiffly, turning his gift in her hands. “What’s yours?”
“Thought you liked your presents to be a surprise?” He recalled, remembering how she used to whine that he must wrap her presents, when the teenage him had insisted that just putting it in a bag would be fine.
“I do.” Her tone made it sound like she was just remembering that fact herself. She looked up and shot him an awkward smile. “I guess I don’t really know what to say.”
“Me either.”
He could’ve sworn he saw her face drop at his words.
They separated soon after, the uncomfortable silence taking over and suffocating them both out of the vicinity of each other. Vernon returned to his spot in the kitchen, picking at the pieces of takeout still leftover on the counter, listening to the others squabble over meaningless things.
He watched Y/N leave, feet rooted by the hallway door and mouth firmly shut closed - he didn’t trust himself to say goodbye to her - he knew that if he had, a million unsaid words would have spilled out and the night would have ended terribly for the both of them. But it was the fear that kept him still most of all, as he watched her exchange numbers with Seungkwan, hugging the others and promising to keep in touch. He stayed as still as a statue as the door shut behind her.
“You idiot.” Seungkwan turned to face him as soon as he locked the door.
“Seungkwan.” Seungcheol’s warning tone made Vernon look at him. He was sending a strong warning glance at the boy.
“What?” Seungkwan protested. “He is being stupid.”
“I think I’m going to head back.” Vernon mumbled, grabbing his coat and hurriedly throwing it on, Y/N’s gift clutched tightly under his arm as he headed for the door. “Thanks for the party, Coups hyung.” He called behind him, shutting the door behind him and welcoming in the cool, biting winter air.
He released the pent up breath that had been choking him all night and furiously wiped away the tears that had begun to form the moment he shut the door behind him.
“Idiot.” He quietly chided himself. “So stupid.”
CHRISTMAS 2018:
“Are you really never going back to New York?” Joshua prodded at his arm with an insistent jab of a finger.
Vernon hummed in response. “There’s no point. My family prefers coming to Korea for the holidays anyways. They get to visit family here and everything.”
“What about your girlfriend?”
Vernon turned his head to see Joshua sporting a shit eating grin. “You know she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Might as well be.” He shrugged, pointing at the various photos that featured her against his wall. “Look at your pathetic loving gaze at her in all of these photos. You’re not even looking at the camera in any of these.”
Vernon frowned at his comment, taking a good look at the photos and realizing Joshua was right. “Doesn’t matter what I feel, hyung. She’s not my girlfriend.”
“She’ll never be if you don’t go back.” Joshua suddenly got serious, as he shifted in his seat to look at Vernon better. “Is there an actual reason why you won’t go back? I know we were too busy the last two years but this year we’re free.”
Vernon stayed silent even though the answer was clear as day in his mind. He was scared, terrified even. Terrified he had hurt her by neglecting her due to his heavy schedules, that she would slam the door in his face if he tried to visit her. “I don’t want to see her hate me.” He finally spat out, cringing as he said it.
Joshua let out a tiny noise of understanding. “So you’re avoiding her. Pretending so you don’t have to deal with the consequences.”
“When you put it like that you make me sound like an asshole.”
Joshua gave him a look that bordered on pitiful. “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”
“I’d rather remember her like this, y’know?” He said, pointing at the way she smiled at him in the pictures on his wall. “Instead of-”
“She might not hate you.” Joshua reminded him quietly from next to him.
“I really, really doubt that, hyung.”
5 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:
It wasn’t computing properly into Vernon’s head that you had just gotten him the one thing he’s been wanting all his life.
He had been ogling the Novation Launchpad Pro that was currently sitting on his work table for the last hour, not really believing what he was seeing with his own two eyes. Unwrapping it had been a heart attack in of itself, as he opened up Y/N’s present to reveal the one thing that had been sitting on the top of his childhood wish list since he could remember. Even now, as a famous artist who could afford the splurge, he had never gotten it for himself, knowing it was a luxury and a purchase he didn’t necessarily need.
“What the fuck, Y/N.” He muttered in disbelief, sliding his palm down his face as he continued to stare at the gift. It was fucking fantastic and exactly what he wanted, and it made him feel even worse about the whole situation.
She might not hate you. He recalled the words Joshua had told him one time, Christmases ago.
“Someone who hated me wouldn’t have gotten me this, right?” He said aloud to himself, reaching a timid hand out to fiddle with the launchpad controls. “How did she even know we’d be exchanging gifts anyways?” And how on earth does she know I never got myself one? In what felt like a split second decision, Vernon felt himself walking towards the door of his apartment, sliding his shoes on and grabbing his keys - only one destination in mind. He had to fix this, somehow. Because there was no fucking way she still hated him.
4 HOURS TILL CHRISTMAS:
She would’ve complained that the sudden doorbell at 3am woke her up but she hadn’t really been sleeping. Y/N had been lying in bed with her eyes wide open since the moment she’d gotten home, the bag of chocolates and various snacks from Vernon left on her kitchen counter. She had stifled a laugh when she opened it - even till this day, Vernon’s go to gift was still the same. Chocolate and snacks can never fail, he had told her, defending his choice of gift. Especially when you don’t know the person too well.
She supposed that line made sense for their situation too.
“Vernon?” She squinted at the figure standing on her porch in the dark. “What are you doing here?” She rubbed her eyes, mildly wondering if she was dreaming.
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he stared down at her. “You got me the launchpad.”
She blinked. “Yeah.”
“How’d you know?”
She stared back at him, stunned at his bluntness and the randomness of the current setting. “You never shut up about it.”
His mouth opened and closed again. She watched as he tried looking for words, his vocabulary ultimately failing him.
“Come inside.” She said quietly, noticing how the harsh winter wind blew at his thin coat. Dragging him gently inside, she shut the door behind them both, turning around awkwardly to face him. She never thought she’d ever see him in his apartment - yet he looked so perfect.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, eyes darting around her place, taking it all in. “I know it’s late.” Glancing down at her pajamas, his lips quivered in a small smile. “Cute.”
“What?” She stared at him indignantly, completely thrown off by his behaviour. “Are you drunk?” She reached out a hand to touch his face, trying to check his temperature, but he caught her hand in his before she could reach.
“I’m not drunk, Y/N.” He dropped her hand like it had burned him.
“Then what are you here for?”
She watched him moisten his lips as he stalled for time.
“I wanted to say sorry.” He finally said, his words tumbling out as if they had been held back for long enough. “I shouldn’t have cut you off like that.”
She thought she’d have a more visceral reaction to the apology she had been waiting for all this time, but she didn’t. “Why are you saying this now? It’s been nearly ten years, Vernon.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders sagged at his words and the sight of his dejected, ashamed face. “Why didn’t you come back? Or text me?” She asked him, pleading for an answer.
He finally looked up and met her eyes. “I guess I was scared. I got busy one year and didn’t go back- and I neglected our friendship. And then-” He paused, his voice breaking. “I left, and time passed and staying away felt simpler than going back. No goodbye felt better than a bad one.”
“It wouldn’t have been a bad goodbye.”
He shook his head. “You hated me.”
She looked away, remembering all the times she had cursed him for leaving her behind when she was younger. “Maybe. But never for long.” She mustered all her courage to tell him her next words. “I loved you too much to hate you for very long.”
Vernon blinked at her. “You loved me?”
She hummed in response, still not quite looking at him. They stood there, by her door, in the dim lights of her apartment.
“How did you even get my address?” She suddenly asked, forgetting he shouldn’t have known where to find her.
Vernon stayed silent, his mind still reeling from the sudden love confession. She used to love me?
“Vernon.” Y/N nudged him.
“Oh.” He finally responded, although his own voice felt like light years away as his mind continued to reel. “I asked my sister. Didn’t know you guys still talked.”
“Oh.”
“You used to love me?” He asked, incredulous, not quite believing her words. “Why?”
She laughed, and the sound wrapped around Vernon like her hugs used to. “What do you mean, why? Of course I loved you. I followed you around like a lost kid our entire childhood.”
“I loved you too, y’know.”
Her smile dropped as she paused mid-laugh. “What?”
He took a step closer to her, unsure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Vernon searched her eyes for some figment of affection, for truth, for the way she used to look at him when they were younger. “I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.” He finally admitted. “I definitely tried to, but your hold on me lasted through distance and time.”
“Me too.”
“What?”
“I never stopped loving you too.”
#seventeen imagines#svt#svt imagines#seventeen#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fic#seventeen scenarios#seventeen christmas#svt fic#svt scenarios#svt vernon#vernon x you#vernon x reader#seventeen vernon#vernon
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Good Girl
Summary: It’s not your fault that your boyfriend was hard for people to warm up to. God, your parents are so lame. But so were you. So you did what anyone else with strict parents would, and you cut him off.
Bad idea.
Word count: 4k
part two is here!
Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, explicit content, kinda quiet sex, cunnilingus, praise, slight humiliation, unprotected sex, strict parents, toxic relationship with parents, AU - no quirks, no use of y/n, gets a little mushy at the end im sorry

You would rather be anywhere else but here. You would pay to be anywhere else but right here, right now being scolded like some teenager who had been caught sneaking out after curfew. But you were here and you weren’t going anywhere any time soon.
“He’s just not good for you,” your father’s voice stressed. It dragged on, pulling you from your drifting thoughts. “You have so much ahead of you and we even agreed to this gap year so that you could figure out what you wanted to do, not so you could run around with some delinquent boy with no future–”
“He‘s not a delinquent,” You cut off, “you’re judging him without even giving him a chance.”
Your father sighs, knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, but knowing you inherited his stubbornness has never detoured him from taking your objections head on. He’s been on this earth longer than you, butting heads with others longer than you have. “Well, whatever he is, he’s not allowed to see you again. That’s final.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. False air of nonchalance sending fury through your veins.
There would be no more arguing and you knew it. You desperately look to your mother, who is in her usual stance of resignation and uselessness when it comes to his word. If she saw things your way, she would never say. And even if she agreed with you, there would be no change. It has always been your father’s way or no way.
“I’m an adult, you can't tell me who I can and can’t see.” you try once more, not ready to end things here. It’s suffocating.
He scoffs, bringing a hand up to count his fingers, “You live under our roof, you eat our food, you drive our car, you give me attitude when I agree to give you time to figure out your life when you decided to leave university after two semesters,” his voice is rising and you begin to feel your eyes burn with the threat of tears, your chest tightening as its harder to catch a breath. You can’t cry here, it would only make things worse. “I don’t think it matters how old you are. I am done with this conversation. End things with him now or you won't have a pot to piss in by the end of the day.”
This cannot be happening. You're still sat on the plush sofa of the living room as your father stalks off with your mother in tow. The latter only glancing back with an empty look of pity as you stare at where your father had just been. Words burned into your mind while hot tears finally break and run down your cheeks. This is really happening.
And Tomura was going to be upset.
In a perfect world you could meet up with him tonight, talk it over, or even run away together and leave all this behind, but you know better. You know the two of you haven’t dated long enough to warrant running away together, but it still crosses your mind. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before and it's painful to think you never will again. Tomura just made you feel so.. Alive. There was so much to him and his witty dry humor that keeps pulling you in.
He’s cynical, he’s moody and sometimes he’s mean but god he could be so soft. Touch you in ways that felt like he reached your soul. Quiet nights where you would stay at his house and watch him play video games would turn into late night sessions of making love until the twilight of dawn peeked through the dark curtains of his room. There was no way you could let him go. But you had to. You had to. Your father had given you no other choice. So you take the coward’s way out.
You text him.
You send him a short text that would send you to the bathroom dry heaving, but you didn’t know what else to do. What more could you say other than your father had snapped at you and you both could no longer be together. It would hurt so much more facing him head on. You knew that if you had to speak to him face to face that you would crack, probably throw out your silly idea of running away together and then face the awkward rejection. This was all you could manage. You felt awful for it, finally forcing yourself off of the floor and dragging your feet to the bathroom to get ready for bed.
It had been hours and there was no response from Tomura. You couldn't blame him. What could anyone say to a break up text? You hollowly hoped he would fight for you. Even a little. But the flat Read 14:57 showed you otherwise. This had now become a heartbreak you werent quite expecting. You couldn’t help but second guess every interaction you had with him before. If maybe you read into things a little too deeply. If maybe, some smaller, quieter part of you dreaded your father was right.
There was no use of dwelling on that now. No point in running through what you would never know. So, you sighed, and finished up in the bathroom. Slipping on your silk sleeping gown that stopped above your knees and adjusted the small straps on your shoulder. You had cried for hours after your argument – if you could even call it that– with your father was over and your face ached. The bags under your eyes showing the worse for wear state you had found yourself in. it would be okay, you told yourself. You just have to sleep it off.
And that was your plan and you slid into your welcoming bed, soft comforter embracing you and your worn feelings. You feel more tears begin to sting behind your eyelids before there's a sudden tap at your window.
A trick of the wind, you decide and return to your somber thoughts.
You would have to move on eventually, but tonight? He was the only thing on your mind. His eyes, his hair, the way he would feign annoyance when you were overly touchy, craving closer contact. He always indulged you. Always gave you more, you knew he liked it as much as you did. You were lovesick.
Tap.
There was that noise again. Louder than before as if someone had thrown a rock right at your window. The room was still and quiet so you knew it hadn’t been your imagination.
Jumping to your feet and shuffling towards the window in question you brushed your curtains to the side to see the possible culprit. And when you do, your heart drops and instant regret fills you. Stomach aching as you take in the sight before you.
It’s Tomura Shigaraki and he is pissed.
Tomura, your Tomura leering up at you with another rock resting in his hand, bigger and ready to be tossed at your window if the last attempt didn’t work.
You look around, knowing no one is in your bedroom but yourself and the moonlight, then go to open your window, ducking your head out to get a better look at him. There he was, black hoodie oversized and so soft, red eyes burning in anger but you aren't scared. You’re relieved, it's him. He's here to see you, mouth turned down in a scowl and fists clenched in fury but he was here.
You couldn’t stop your hushed whisper, “what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.” Was his only reply before he dropped the rock and walked towards your window. It wasn’t terribly high up, but higher than he could reach without a bit of help from you.
Now that he was closer you could see the anger in his posture much more clearly. All tense shoulders and narrowed eyes. It was enough to make your stomach turn. You couldn't help but worry your bottom lip as he pulled out his phone and took a step closer.
“Really? Over a fucking text message?” He hissed, rasp in his voice, uncaring of the time of night or who could hear.
“Tomura, shh, please–” you tried, hands coming up to placate him, if only a little. Your father would have your head if he heard another man in his home, let alone Tomura Shigaraki.
He huffed a sarcastic laugh, disbelief taking over his features, but he obliged, “I don’t care what your father told you. He can’t control who you talk to.”
You shake your head, the all too familiar sting of tears in your eyes threatening to fall, “I know. I told him that, but he threatened to kick me out, to cut me off. I’m sorry Tomura, but I can't.”
“He can't do that.”
You nod, knowing all too well that your father would go through with his threat. “He can. Technically. I'm an adult, so it’s his choice.” The tears fall now, seeing the rage dissipate from Tomura, slight drop of his shoulders showing disbelief and disappointment. It's too much. This is why you didn’t want to see him, couldn’t face him. “I'm so sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold in the sobs threatening to wrack your body and possibly wake your parents up. This could not have ended worse. “I don't want it to be this way.”
“Wow, I didn't know you were such a good girl.”
Your breath hitches, caught off guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “I didn't know you did everything daddy says. What a good girl you are.” The tone is one you’re familiar with. Condescending. Challenging. He’s testing you.
Your cheeks flushed. What could you say? That you’re not a good girl, actually. Then what would that make you? A bad girl? You would walk right into his trap. He’s watching, waiting for a response. Something to make you slip up.
You don't have the chance to respond before he’s taking a step forward, lifting your chin with a finger so that you could look him in the eyes. Even in the dim lighting of the room those crimson eyes looked into your own. Like he was delving deeper, looking for the response that you can't seem to give him. Nothing else matters in this moment. It’s just him and you and the pale moonlight dancing between you. The air is tense and unmoving, like the smallest noise, the faintest blow of wind would ruin this moment.
You couldn’t take it, couldn’t wait another minute before your body moved, leaning forwards onto the tips of your toes to give you more leverage as your lips pressed to his. His lips were still cold and dry from the cool air outside but that didn’t matter. Nothing matters more than knowing you needed more of him and you needed it now. Tomura’s hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, pulling you closer and the kiss deeper. Taking all of you in as his other hand gripped your waist.
Your hands wasted no time burying into his hoodie – so soft and worn– the faint smell of citrus and cedar being a comfort as the intoxicating kiss deepened. Tomura wasted no time, slick tongue entering your mouth, hungry, like it was the last time you would have him this way. It was too much. It was not enough. You broke the kiss, a string of saliva following the short distance you put in between. Air seemed sparse, like you couldn't get enough and Tomura spoke before you could.
“Get on the bed.”
And you did, newfound vigor in your step as you eagerly did as what you were told. Energy ebbing through your veins as excitement overtook your previous anxiety. Tomura was a mere step behind, discarding his hoodie without care and joining you on the bed, caging you beneath him as he dove back in for another kiss, wet and warm, before trailing lower. Open mouthed kisses to your jaw, then neck, his hands, rough and warm gripping your thighs, taking in all he can. After leaving a particularly hard bite on your neck, Tomura lifted your gown up, smooth silk gliding with ease above your ass and resting below your breast. It was only natural for your legs to spread for him, cool air on your bare cunt making you shiver.
“Oh?” An amused huff from the man above you makes your cheeks heat further than before. He’s seen you like this many times before, but he’s always had a way of making you feel shy. “No panties, huh?”
You push past your embarrassment. “You know i dont wear them to b– ah!” you're cut off by the feeling of his finger sliding between your folds, slick making it glide, and rubbing over your clit. The surprise of the motion makes you press your thighs closer together. Tomura grins above you, before bringing his wet finger to his mouth, a mocking shh following the motion, tongue flicking out and licking the digit as his other hand pushed your legs apart again.
He bends down, bulge in his sweatpants pressing against your bare cunt. He’s so hard and that thought only makes you wetter. Tomura’s nose brushes yours, your eyelids fluttering shut as he dives to kiss you again. All open mouthed and wet. You could taste yourself on his tongue as well as feel the pressure of his clothed erection grind against you, rubbing against your bundle of nerves. You are sure your slick is dampening his sweatpants but Tomura doesn’t care. He’s grinding you into the mattress and you’re so close to begging him to get on with it you want to scream. But almost like he’s read your mind, he pulls away.
The kisses he places along your body set your nerves on fire, anticipation eating away at your patience as he takes his time. Once he’s reached his destination, right between your thighs, he places one wet kiss onto the plush of your inner right thigh. Another teasing move. Another way to make you squirm in excitement. He looks up at you, ruby eyes gleaming in the moonlight of the room.
“Be quiet for me, yeah?”
Tomura huffs a laugh at your eager nod, grin growing wider. So quick to please. Dedicated. “Good girl.”
The praise makes you falter for a second, embarrassment threatening to make its way to the surface once more. There was no time for it now, Tomura enjoyed catching you off guard. Loved surprises. He wastes no more time, tongue licking a wet strip between your lips. The action causing you to moan louder than you intended. Your hand rushes to cover your mouth. If you were to be caught in this predicament by either of your parents it would be horrendous for the both of you.
This doesn’t stop Tomura, though. If anything you were starting to think it encouraged him, because his relentless pace on your cunt was driving you wild. His long stripes simmered into just the tip of his tongue flicking your clit and sending jolts of pleasure roaring through you. You were already close, pleasure and pressure building and building until you were so close to tipping over–
Knock knock.
“Hey sweetie. I know it's late, I just wanted to talk for a second.”
It was your mom. Holy shit it was your mom and there's a boy in your bed with his head buried between your legs and holy shit. If she opened the door, if she barged into your room in the familiar way she always had a bad habit of doing, you would be done for. With wide eyes and accelerated breaths, you clamped down harder over your mouth with both hands. Even Tomura stopped in his tracks, gaze lazily focused on the door with curiosity bleeding into his indifference.
Your mother must have taken the silence as a sign of slumber, yet she continued. Voice muffled by the door between you both.
“Your father... was harsh today. And I’m sorry for that.” She pauses, long enough for you to believe she would be giving up and going back to her bedroom. You aren't so lucky, surely at this point you were very unlucky and you dreaded whatever else she had to say. “I just want you to know that he just wants the best for you.” your heart drops as she carries on, unaware and unconcerned of the other pair of ears listening in to her words. “We don’t know him that well. We can't risk you getting involved in something you're not ready for and throwing your future away.”
At this, Tomura rolls his eyes, interest clearly lost and goes back to his earlier movements. The sloppy kiss to your clit catches you off guard and forces a whine out of you. It was small, but still a noise. Squeezing your eyes shut you prayed this would be written off as an odd sleep noise. Wishing to the sky that it wasn't noticeable and Tomura would stop. He didn’t. It was in that moment he decided pressing a finger against your entrance would bring out more noises. The digit slipping in with minimal effort and adding more pleasure to this mix as he sucked your clit.
If your mother heard anything, she didn't make it known. The floorboards outside of your door creaking with the shifting of her weight. “Well, maybe we can get ice cream or something tomorrow. Have a little girl’s day?” The silence is palpable as she waits for an answer that won't come. “Okay well, goodnight sweetie. See you in the morning.”
You don’t know what you're more grateful for; the sound of her receding steps or that fact that Tomura wasn't cruel and waited until the telltale sound of a door opening and closing rang through the air before adding another finger and curling them. This time you couldn’t bite back the moan that escaped you, hands gripping the cotton of your duvet.
“Aw, how sweet,” Tomura started, sitting up while adding a thumb to your sensitive nub and rubbing slow circles to replace his mouth. “She wants to have a little girls’ day with you.”
His mocking tone would have gotten a reaction out of you any other time, but right now you were so close. On the precipice of an orgasm that’s been drawn out for far too long. You could only look at him with half lidded eyes as his fingers worked like magic sending you closer and closer, your breath hitching as you finally, finally reached the climax. Body shaking pleasure cascades over you like a tidal wave.
“There we go,” Tomura whispers, giving your cunt a playful tap after letting you ride the sensation out. He pulls away completely to take off his sweatpants and underwear, cock already hard and leaking. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips at the sight and you hear his breathless chuckle. “I’ll let you have a taste next time, but right now, I can't wait any longer.”
It was only when he began to line up with your entrance that you absently wondered about the lack of condoms you owned. You look up at him, question burning on your tongue but he only grins at you, and you swore in that moment he was a mind reader. “I didn’t bring any with me, sorry,” his voice was far from apologetic as he stroked his cock, rubbing the head between your folds and against your clit, slick soaking the head. “But don't worry,” he continued, leaning forward and you felt the pressure at your entrance, excitement buzzing through your veins. “I’ll pull out.”
Whether you believed him or not didn’t matter, you had no time to process a thought as he began stretching you to the limit with his size. A gasp escaped your parted lips as the sickeningly sweet feeling of being stretched too far too fast took over. He gave you a minute to adjust, even as his cock twitched in anticipation of movement. The grip he had on your hips was tight enough to bruise and you knew it was taking a lot of his self control to wait for you.
He pressed on, figuring it had been long enough and bottomed out with a sigh. Your walls clenched around him and swore you could cum from the stretch alone. After giving you a second to breathe he pulled back, almost pulling out, only to snap his hips back forward into you. Your head lolled onto the pillow, hand coming up once more to mute the moans dragging from your body. Tomura hoists your legs onto each side of his shoulders,bending them forward and successfully folding you like a lawn chair as he started his aggressive pace, forcing your tight heat to clench around his cock.
“Oh, fuck…” you couldn’t help but mutter as you struggled to hold off your already approaching orgasm.
Tomura saw this as a challenge. “What? You gonna cum on my cock?” he mocked, pace wild and rough, leaving you gasping as you shut your eyes, not ready to admit how right he was. “It's okay,” he continued, leaning closer and allowing his dick to press deeper inside you. The drag hitting the bundle of nerves inside and nearly sending you over the edge. “Come on, cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”
Those words push you over, hips convulsing as your legs shake and it takes Tomura slapping a hand over your mouth this time to quiet you. You couldn’t focus on anything else, let alone keeping quiet. Your body felt light and Tomura fucked you through it. His pace grew more erratic as his grinning face became one of focus, brows furrowing as his eyes shut and he focused on his pleasure. Your pussy squeezing around him making it harder for him to stave off his own nearing climax. You were worried that at this point you were both too far gone. The silence of the home would leave the messy noises between you both loud and clear for the entire house to hear. Tomura was great at keeping his composure but the soft groans coming from your lover only showed how much he was losing his grip.
“Can’t– fuck, sorry–” you didn’t have time to decipher his strange words, your curious eyes meeting his face to gauge his expression before you feel it.
His cock twitches inside you, seed painting your insides white as his thrusts didn't slow. He was hammering away at your insides, only pumping his cum further into you. You feel so full, the warmth spreading over your body like a blanket. He came in you. Even though he said he wouldn’t, he did. The worst part about it? You don’t care. It's invigorating. You feel even more attached to him. Even closer. You want more.
Overstimulated and weak, you whimpered, thoughts swimming as Tomura finally came down from high. Slowing his thrusts and panting heavily. Your heart is drumming against your chest as he removes your sore legs from his shoulders. Shuddering as he slips out of your tight heat, feeling the cum dripping out of you and onto your sheets.
The bed dipped as he took his place next to you. Out of breath and eyes focused on the ceiling. Your ears were ringing with the sudden quietness of it all. Things felt different, heavy.
“You could always just not tell them.” It was Tomura who broke the silence first. “Act sad, mope around, and then come see me at night.”
You glanced over, vaguely registering the sweat cooling on your body. You would need to get up and get cleaned up soon. “Yeah, but if they catch me–”
“They won't. I’ll teach you how.” he turns towards you, bringing a hand to your chin to make you face him. There’s a fuzzy feeling turning in your chest and the familiarity of heat rising to your cheeks is starting to drive you mad. His grin is enamoring, red eyes almost glowing with mischief in the moonlight. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
There's an ache that tugs at your chest as you nod. “Okay.”
You are so fucked.
#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#my works#tomura shiragaki#tomura x reader#mha tomura#shigaraki smut#fanfic#my hero academia
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Jumped
Request: I would love to see something Like IT’s Career day at school and Jay and Will come to teach about their jobs along with others. And Halstead's sister gets bullied. During the break of moving in between careers someone comes and beats her up in like the bathroom and leaves her there and no one notices her being gone untill the end of the day. (I kinda want like Fire, Med, and Pd to find her)
sorry if it doesn’t make much sense you can choose how to end it and stuff
I also LOVE your fics I can’t wait to see more❤️
Authors Note; Y’all really love the angst huh, gotta deliver,, and hopefully you enjoy this little drabble. Also, part of me really wanted to title this, 'big sister hugs' because I think that Hailey would be the best big sister and also give the best big sister advice.
warnings: private girls school (yes that's a warning), bullying, getting jumped (i guess?), hospital and injuries,, Jay and Will not knowing girl bullying and being stubborn, a very poorly written plot
High school was not always easy, but you were comfortable at your school with your friends. That was until there was a security issue and Jay’s information got leaked. Your apartment, school, Jay’s license plate, everything that could be used to track him ended up in the hands of the ‘bad guys’. Jay and Will had broken the news to you that they were pulling you from your current school, and moving to another school closer to Will’s. A private girls school, the ones with the fancy uniforms and stuck-up kids who thought the law didn’t apply to them because they had money. You hated it. You had begged Jay and Will to let you stay, but there was no changing their mind.
The first week was hell, you knew no one. Starting in the middle of the year meant that everyone knew you were the new girl. You were enrolled under your mother's maiden name, for extra safety. It was weird not hearing your name followed by ‘Halstead’. After the first week was gone, you decided to stick it out until the problem with Jay blew over, by then, you could probably convince them to let you go back to your other school. Three weeks passed by and intelligence solved Jay’s leak.
“So,” You began on Sunday family dinner, “Now that the whole leak in PD is over…”
Jay and Will shared a look from across the table.
You narrowed your eyes, “What?”
Will ran a hand down his face, “Listen…”
“You won't let me go back.”
“It’s a better school-”
“Better?” You spat, “How is it better? I hate it there!”
“It’ll get better,” Jay said, “You just need more time to adjust.”
“I don’t want to adjust-”
“We’re not pulling you out,” Jay said, “I know you're struggling right now, but you’ll make some friends and-”
“I can’t believe you.” You pulled away from the table, leaving your half-eaten dinner where it was and stomping off to your room. Jay stood to follow, ready to scold you for storming away and having such an attitude.
“Jay,” Hailey grabbed his arm, “Let her cool down.”
Jay and Will didn’t budge on your school. You had gone from begging to bargaining with no success. Now you were giving them both the silent treatment. You knew it was immature and frankly ridiculous, but you were too mad to think clearly. Jay had already scolded you for not talking to him for the last week. You had ignored him.
Hailey was the only one you spoke too, because it wasn’t her fault that Jay was being stubborn. Even so, you didn’t tell her everything when she stopped by your room. Namely, the career day that was coming up. You knew telling her meant she would tell Jay. And Jay and Will had a terrible habit of embarrassing you at school. At your last school's career day, Will and Jay had come and talked for hours about their funniest stories. You knew if they came this time, your peers wouldn’t be as amused.
When career day did roll around, your dean stood in front of the school in the auditorium, introducing students and their parents. Your school was much smaller than your last one - something about smaller class sizes being better for learning - so the auditorium wasn’t fully packed.
Not everyone brought their parents, but the popular kids with parents who had good jobs came. Like the group of girls who hated you, who all brought at least one parent. Your dean invited students to the stage by class and then had the student introduce their parents. Your class was last, the biggest number of parents who had come. You were sat at the end of your class, mostly because you didn't have anyone to bring. Not that it bothered you.
“Next up, we have Olivia and her mom, Jen.”
Jen was a dentist, she spent 10 minutes explaining how her job worked and then opened for questions. There weren’t many, mostly a few questions from seniors about collages and other stuff.
Then it was Sophie, with her dad the Banker.
By the time the girls who hated you were called up, you were ready to fall asleep. No one here had an interesting job, most of the jobs were boring well playing jobs that you could never see yourself doing.
The main girl who didn’t like you was Madison. She wasn’t fond of how the teachers asked you for answers in class, not that you could do anything about that. Her friend group was made up of 5 or 6 girls who were seemingly lovely. All smiles and compliments around teachers but spread vicious rumors and lies when adults couldn’t hear. You had heard them speaking about you a few times, not that you cared. It wasn’t great to be the new girl with all the rumors, but you had banked on leaving the school before for long. Which, you knew now, wasn’t an option. So now you were stuck with the girls who all hated you for rumors or lies that you didn’t even know.
Madison brought her mum and dad with her, real estate agents who worked together selling multi-billion dollar houses. The whole time she had a smug look on her face. When she sat back down in her row, she turned in her seat, looking back at you.
“Didn’t bring anyone?” She asked.
You didn’t bother replying.
“Is it because your parents are coke addicts?” Her friend beside her pressed.
How that rumor even started you didn’t know, it was so absurd.
“Or is it because they’re dead?” Madison pressed.
You gave her a bored look, “I’ll take my family over your fraud family any day.”
Madison opened her mouth to bark something back, but was shushed by your teacher. She turned back to face the front, arms crossed over her chest. No doubt stewing in your words.
“We now have some guests to speak to you,” The Dean said through the microphone, “We reached out to some of our first responders and invited them to come speak to you too. Everyone please welcome Dr Asher and Dr Halstead from Gaffney Chicago Med.”
Will and Hannah walked to the stage, both in their Med scrubs with doctors coats on. Will was looking for you, you could tell from the way his eyes scanned the faces in the audience. You slumped in your chair, avoiding looking at him at all.
How did he find out? Did he and Jay find out somehow? Did your school contact them?
You really wanted to disappear now, your face was no doubt bright red by how much it was burning. You prayed silently that Will hadn’t told Jay, but you knew it was a useless prayer. If Will was here Jay would be too.
You got your answer when the dean explained that there were more guests outside on the fields. She ordered everyone to head that way, ushering students with promises of something ‘exciting’.
Outside, firehouse 51 had parked their rigs on the grass. 51 had their ladder extended, Mouch standing at the controls grinning like a champion. Not far from Mouch was Trudy, flanked by two patrol cars and their officers. Looking across the gathered first responders it didn’t take long to spot Jay and Intelligence. Their own cars were parked on the grass, the lights on. Everyone but Voight had their vests on, adding to the dramatic atmosphere already created.
Students huddled around, entranced by the cars and rigs which you had seen plenty of times. You tried to hide towards the back, but Kelly had spotted you and tried to usher you closer. You shrugged back at him, trying to make it look like you were stuck within the crowd.
“Firstly, we would like to thank Sergeant Trudy Platt and Sergeant Hank Voight, as well as Chief Wallace Boden for coming today. We are hugely appreciative to hear from you,” The dean spoke into a microphone, “Secondly, I want to ask students to be respectful, as these hard working men and women have taken time out of their busy days to come and speak to us. So we are going to listen and show respect. There will be time for questions and demonstrations at the end. Please Welcome Sergeant Trudy Platt.”
The crowd clapped as Trudy took the mic, but it wasn’t too enthusiastic. Trudy gave a similar speech to last year. Along the lines of what made district 21 special, intelligence and the hardworking patrol officers. She talked about fake calls and how breaking the law would wind you up in her cells etc. It was funny, a few quips earning laughs from teachers and parents. But you had heard it all before. You were dreading what the others would say. You didn’t want everyone knowing your brother was a cop, that would cause way too many issues.
So instead, you slipped away from the crowd, heading back towards the school building to hide in the bathroom.
You didn’t think anyone would notice, most people were paying attention to the speakers or interested in the rigs. You were wrong, of course, being followed almost immediately by Madison and a couple of her friends.
You got to the lockers before they announced themselves.
“What did you mean my parents were frauds, bitch?”
You turned around in fright, not even hearing them sneak up on you.
“I didn’t mean it,” You replied, “I’m sorry.”
You were, kind of. Mostly you were sorry that you had said it, because she genuinely seemed shocked. But this was Chicago, anyone with any money committed fraud, it was kind of the standard.
“I don’t care if you're sorry,” Madison snarled, she was taller than you so when she stepped closer you couldn’t help feeling intimidated. “What did you mean?”
“Madison-”
One of her friends pushed you hard against the lockers with a forearm over your collar, “Answer the question.”
You were by no means a confrontational person. Growing up, Jay always tried to teach you to talk out your issues, violence or fighting wasn’t a good solution. Will was the same, although both of them weren’t always the best at doing as they counseled.
“I just meant that,” You were panicking under the glare of all three girls, “You know, this is chicago and-”
“And what? Everyone is a criminal like your addict parents?” Madison got in your face again.
“My parents weren’t addicts,” You scoffed, now annoyed that she wouldn’t let that go.
“No?” The girl who was holding you back moved her arm further up your neck, pressing against your throat, “Then where are they?”
“If my parents were addicts, would you really think I'd be in a private school?” You pressed, “Use your brain for once, please.”
You should have known that would piss Madison off. She let out an annoyed scoff then pulled back her fist and punched your square in the nose. The force slammed your head back into the lockers, the sound echoing through the empty halls. The punch wasn’t hard enough to break your nose, but you would feel the blood start to drip down your lip. Madison shook her hand like she had taken more damage than you had.
“Want to say that again?” The third girl finally spoke up.
It was like they were all gaining confidence in the security of the three of them. When one of them said something the others would laugh and smirk.
“I don’t like bullies, you know,” Madison said.
God, the irony.
This time the punch came from the third girl, landing in your stomach. You didn't know her name, but she was on the volleyball team, so her punch was much stronger. Your body doubled over, arms crossing over your stomach as your lungs tried to fight your diaphragm for air. The arm holding you up was dropped, and your body fell to the ground as you tried to force yourself to take some deep breaths.
“This is what you deserve,” A girl said, before another blow landed on your ribs. The wind was knocked out of you again, causing you to cough and choke.
Madison crouched down to your level, “Bullies like you deserve to be put in their place.”
You didn’t have time to appreciate the irony this time, because she was kicking your head, hard.
Your body reacted on instinct, curling into itself to try to protect you from another blow that was sure to come.
“Hey!”
The three girls sprinted at the voice, running away from their actions.
“Hey, kid,” A hand on your shoulder made you flinch, when your vision cleared you realized it was just Kelly. He held his hands out to show you he meant no harm, then gently helped you sit up.
“You’re alright,” He said softly, steading you sitting against the lockers. You couldn’t even reply, focused solely on breathing through the pain in your head and side.
“I found her,” Kelly said into his radio, “North Hallway, bring a jump bag.”
Kelly gently touched the side of your face, tilting your head to look at the side you had been kicked.
“You still got that med kit in your bag?” He asked, knowing Kidd had taught you that in girls on fire.
“Yeah,” You said softly, your voice above a whisper.
Kelly ripped open your bag, rummaging through it until he found the small first aid kit. He was only after gauze, once he secured it, he ripped the package open and pressed the gauze to your head.
You winced, instinctively pulling away from him.
“I know,” He said, sitting down next to you so he could hold the gauze in place, “Sorry kid.
You both looked up as the sound of footsteps came running towards you. You might as well have been on fire, the entire house was rushing towards you. Jay and Intelligence were there too, Will and Asher running along beside everyone.
“This is overkill,” You said to no one in particular.
Kelly chuckled, shuffling so that Will could take his place next to you, “We’re all here for you, kid.”
Will replaced Kelly’s hand with his own, when Kelly pulled away you could see blood on his hand.
Jay croached on your other side, letting Will, Hannah and Brett take care of you.
“What happened?” He asked, looking over your bloody nose, head injury and the way you were holding your side.
You didn’t want to be known as a snitch, one glance behind your brother and you could see students being held back by teachers and 51. The school day was almost over, everyone would be gathering their things to leave. You hoped you weren’t in front of someone's locker who hated you, this would definitely make them hate you more.
You looked back at Jay, his eyes filled with worry, “What happened, squirt?”
“I, uh.. I fell.”
Will scoffed, “You fell?”
“Yeah, I’m clumsy,” You said.
“You fell and hit your nose and the side of your head?” Hannah asked, voice soft, “Are you sure that's the story you want to tell?”
Over her shoulder, Kelly was talking to Voight and Hailey. Hailey was pointing something out, a camera that was positioned above one of the classroom doors.
“Yeah,” You didn’t sound confident at all. But right now, you wanted to be anywhere but here.
Jay looked pissed, but he didn’t say anything. He got to his feet and stood out of the way as Hannah and Will helped you stand. They lead you over to the stair chair, despite your very vocal argument that you were fine.
Being wheeled through the crowd of students and their parents was the most embarrassing thing you had ever experienced. You passed by Madison at one point, who was leaning against her locker talking to her parents like nothing ever happened. You avoided looking her way, instead focusing on what Brett was saying about getting to the rig.
Outside the building things were less stressful and crowded. You managed to convince the four hovering adults that you could stand on your own to get into the back of the ambulance, even if you didn’t really think you needed one.
“I’m really fine,” You argued for probably the fifth time, “I think you're overreacting.”
Will sighed, running a hand down his face, “You are too stubborn for your own good,” He muttered.
Violet chuckled, “Just lay back, alright? You aren’t getting out of this, no matter how much you complain.”
She was right, but that didn’t stop you from pouting the whole way to Med.
At Med, Will hovered as Hannah stapled the laceration on your head. You weren’t too happy about the idea of being stabled back together, but Will had taken a photo of the laceration to prove you needed it.
“That’s so gross,” You said, pushing the phone away from you.
“That’s why you need staples,” Will explained, rolling his eyes.
Not long after Hannah had treated you and left you to rest, Jay, Hailey and Voight walked in.
“Are you doing alright?” Jay asked, hesitant to start another argument.
“I’m fine,” You repeated, “I don’t know why everyones making such a big deal.”
“You were attacked at-”
“I fell.” You interrupted.
“Y/N-”
“Jay.” You echoed in the same tone.
Jay's face flashed with irritation, he looked to Will for help.
“We know that’s not true,” Will said, giving you his best parental disappointed look.
“The whole thing was caught by the security cameras,” Hailey spoke softly, she was the only person in the room who knew what it was like to be a teenage girl in high school, “We just want to know what they said.”
You tried to come up with some kind of explanation that wouldn’t get anyone in trouble, but you came up short.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” You shrugged, avoiding eye contact with all of them.
Will leaned forward, he looked wary, “Listen, squirt, we want to help, but we can’t unless you tell us the truth.”
“That is the truth,” You argued back, crossing your arms definitely, “It’s not a big deal.”
“You’re in the hospital!” Jay gestured around, “What about this is ‘not a big deal’.”
You scowled, refusing to say anything else and just sitting silently.
Voight squeezed Jay's shoulder, “We’ll let her rest, come back later?”
Jay nodded, not bidding you goodbye as he stomped out of the room. You hadn’t seen him this mad in forever, you weren’t sure if this would blow over as easily as your other fights. Voight followed after Jay, he told you to get some rest then followed his detective to try to calm him down.
Will got up to leave too, he told you to rest and said he would come back soon. When the three left, it was only Hailey who stayed behind.
“I know you’ve been struggling at school,” She took a seat on the bed next to you, “I know what that’s like.”
You fiddled with your fingers, not wanting to admit she was right.
“You know what happened today wasn’t right,” Hailey continued, “Jay wants to press charges.”
“What? No! That’ll just make it wor…” You stopped yourself.
“Make what worse?” Hailey pressed.
You took a deep breath, trying not to get upset.
“Whatever is going on, I can help,” Hailey promised.
“You can’t get me out of that school,” You scowled.
“I think after today, that might be possible.”
You leaned back into the pillows. Dr Asher had given you some pain meds for your head, they removed the sharp pain and replaced it with a dull throb. You could feel it more as you got more upset.
“There’s this stupid rumor that my parents are addicts,” you explained, “Madison is always taunting me with it, saying that's why no one ever comes to parent evenings or teacher interviews…”
Hailey didn’t say anything, she just sat listening patiently.
“Before you guys came, she asked why my parents weren’t here and I said that I would rather have my family over her fraud one.”
Hailey nodded as she listened.
“It was stupid and as soon as I said it, I regretted it. When we were outside I went inside to go to the bathroom and Madison and her friends followed me… They, uh… Madison wanted to know why I said it and I apologized but she didn’t- she, she didn’t care and…”
Hailey got the cue, “Okay. It’s alright.” She pulled you into a gentle hug. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
#jay halstead x reader#will halstead#chicago med#halstead!sister#jay halstead x sister!reader#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader#will halstead x reader#chicago med x reader#jay halstead#hailey upton#hailey upton x reader#one chicago x reader#one chicago imagine#chicago med imagine#chicago fire x reader#chicago fire imagine#kelly severide
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Part two of this, so if you want more context on this analysis, please read the first part!
In part one I went over the struggles of SpongeBob’s desire to fit in and how he falls into this perfectionist nature. And because of this, he also falls into being a people pleaser A LOT. Where he’ll put the needs of others (mostly his friends) before his own. He also gets tricked and manipulated constantly by folks for their own personal gain and selfish reasons. Not to say SpongeBob doesn’t have any himself, but he tends to put his own on the back burner in order to please his friends. Again, he’s a people pleaser, he wants everyone to like him. The episode “Not Normal” is another example of him worrying he’s not normal enough and changes his personality and appearance because he thinks he’ll be better. He also worries what his own parents think of him, even though his parents don’t mind his energetic nature and childlike wonder.
Once again trying to prove himself to people. But the question still stands, will he ever “grow up” and “be mature”?
Well, that’s where Coraline (my self insert) comes in.
Coraline is a sea monster. Her species is well known for being scary and dangerous. But she’s not. She’s an outcast. Spending her entire youth bullied by other sea monsters due to being seen as “sensitive” and “weak”. And once old enough, she leaves her trench. Going from town to town trying to find a place to call home, before finding herself in Bikini Bottom and ends up working for Plankton because no one else will hire her. Already sealing her fate of crossing paths with SpongeBob. And once the two do meet, SpongeBob of course wants to befriend her, offering to show her around because he wants to make a good impression. But due to Mr. Krabs threatening him when they find out she works for Plankton, the sponge once again puts others before his own needs, causing Coraline to get stood up by him. And then SpongeBob ends up having to apologize later on.
[More context of this in the first two chapters of the fanfic about them here!]
Eventually he forms a friendship with the sea monster, almost in secret from his own boss.
Right away the two hit it off, discovering that they share a few similar hobbies and interests. But the two also start to notice that they share the same struggles as well. People pleasing. SpongeBob does it to avoid being alone, while Coraline does it to not be seen as a threat. Unlike SpongeBob, Coraline accepts her loneliness, purposefully avoiding folks and will sometimes deny the sponge’s offers in fear of scaring him off, but because she wants to keep peace, she keeps accepting them.
But SpongeBob is scared. Not because Coraline is scary. He’s afraid of being tricked and disappointing his boss. With Mr. Krabs filling his head with the idea that Plankton is using Coraline to get to him to get to the secret formula, SpongeBob starts to get paranoid. While Coraline on the other hand feels trapped because she has to do what Plankton tells her or else she loses her job. But because she’s honest, she’ll let SpongeBob in on the plans, allowing the two to be one step ahead of their bosses to avoiding any conflict between them. The two then start to make a game out of it, sneaking around and being very tongue in cheek whenever they have to “confront” each other during work hours. But once the two starts to catch feelings for each other, it gets messy really fast.
Coraline believes she’s a mistake. Believes every time SpongeBob is nice to her is out of either pity or as a joke. She wants to avoid him but can’t, SpongeBob is stubborn, but so is she, so it’s a constant push and pull between the two. SpongeBob genuinely enjoys her company. He never met anyone who treated him gently before and he doesn’t want to mess up whatever they have going between them because he’s afraid he won’t find it again.
Skipping forward to them dating. For another analysis post on the whole thing about SpongeBob and dating can be found here!
Neither have any dating experiences. The only time SpongeBob had form “relationships” was with a boat, a spatula and a krabby patty.
With “Spatula” he had to get a replacement in order to continue his work and the episode is kinda treated like a “cheating” allegory in a way that SpongeBob chose his work before the spatula, later in tears asking “Spatula” for forgiveness. Again we could see this as an internal battle SpongeBob most likely have that he himself worries about being replaced and sorta acts the scenario out. I know this (and the other episodes) is played for laughs, but I’m making this deeper than it should because I like him to have depth dammit!
“Boatie” comes from SpongeBob’s loneliness of everyone leaving town and once again starts to believe the boat has it out for him while he talks to a puppet of Patrick, again most likely acting out a scenario he most likely fears will happen to him one day. I could also go on about the whole “National No Spongebob Day” subplot at the end of that episode, but that would end up being a rant…
Heck even Bubble Buddy plays into this since SpongeBob created him out of loneliness due to all his friends being busy (before it’s revealed that the bubble is alive).
And then there’s “Patty”. He becomes infatuated with a krabby patty and I think the little teasing comments from Squidward about it triggered the attachment into an obsession from SpongeBob. Because if we once again go by the one comment in the episode “The Chaperone” where he never had a date to prom, it’s most likely he never dated in general.

He wants to feel wanted, but doesn’t know how to get it without it backfiring.
Once getting closer to SpongeBob, Coraline catches on right away that SpongeBob goes to desperate measures to make her happy, which makes her uncomfortable. To her SpongeBob is more mature in her eyes since he has more life experiences than her and she’s the only one who treats him with respect because of it, so once noticing his people pleasing nature, she tries to step in out of concern. Because he doesn’t need to change for her, she already accepts him as is. Which of course throws SpongeBob out of loop because this is what he always does, he has to help others however he can, and he recognizes Coraline’s struggles and wants to help her too. Eventually the pair starts to get frustrated by each other due to this, not realizing that they are both not only forcing themselves out of their comfort zones, but also growing as people from their impact on one another. Causing them both for the first time in their lives to “grow up” and accept being different.
#yall thought I was joking about being unhinged about this ship#again these are mostly my headcanons for his character#he’s like a greek tragedy to me#I really need to update that fic though…#💬 chy chatter 💬#🧽 spo.ngebob 🧽#❤️ coralbob ❤️#self insert#self ship#🎨 chy creations 🎨
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⋆。‧˚ʚ You have all my support ɞ˚‧。⋆ pt 2
{Nanami Kento x reader}
ִֶָ࣪☾. Content: kento nanami x reader, just fluff, comfort, friends to lovers, nightmare, digimon mentioned!, i really think nanami looks at memes like parents look at memes xdxd (don't forget we are in year 2007ish)
ִֶָ࣪☾. Summary: It was inevitable. Kento Nanami and you became friends.
ִֶָ࣪☾. AN: Hello! I bring you guys part two, I took longer than I expected. Yesterday, I had a very calm nightshift and decided to finally write this second part, i really liked how it turn out. I really want to encourage you all to leave comments because that would help me a lot now that I'm just starting to write! extra: i really want to thank my twiniieee @totallygyomeiswife because she helped to organize my thought and how i want this fic to keep going.
Edit: I noticed some inconsistencies so, I corrected few words & numbers! Thank you again for reading 📚 I am excited to keep writing this 🥰
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4
Omakes Reader meets Gojo First time
🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃
It’s been several months since Haibara’s death, and while Nanami remains the serious, reserved man everyone knows, something has subtly changed in him. In these past months, he’s allowed himself to trust you, finding quiet comfort in your friendship. You've always been there for him, offering support without demands or expectations. Yet Haibara’s memory still casts a long shadow, and sometimes his dreams dredge up painful scenes, reminding him of everything he's lost.
One night, after an especially vivid nightmare where he relives those haunting images of Haibara, Nanami wakes up, gasping for air. Without thinking, he picks up his phone and sends you a message:
Are you awake?
Your response comes almost immediately.
Of course! I’m always awake. You couldn’t sleep again, could you?
Despite the lingering weight of his nightmare, Nanami can’t help but smile slightly.
Do you ever actually sleep?
It’s my superpower! you reply, adding a sunglasses emoji.
Just as he’s about to put his phone down, he sees a notification from you—an image attachment. Curious, he opens it to see a meme of a concerned-looking dog, accompanied by the huge caption: “Your life is as worrisome as my face!” Nanami frowns, confused by the image.
Whose dog is that? he asks.
That doesn’t matter! Just laugh! It’s funny, right?
It seems we have different definitions of funny, he replies, teasing you. But he’s unable to stop himself from smiling, finding a strange comfort in your lightheartedness, and grateful for the brief escape from his thoughts.
Later that day, the two of you meet up at an arcade. You've set your sights on a claw machine with a Palmon plush, and after several failed attempts, you’re determined to get it. The lights and sounds around you barely register; all your attention is on the machine and on winning that Palmon.
Nanami watches from behind, arms crossed, his expression showing his skepticism. “Are you seriously going to keep going? You’ve already spent 3,000 yen. This is ridiculous.”
Without looking away from the machine, you throw him a quick glance. “Yes! I need it. Palmon is beautiful, and I won’t be able to sleep if I don’t win it.”
Nanami raises an eyebrow, doubtful. “Is it really that important?”
“Obviously!” You pout, looking at him with that mix of determination and stubbornness he’s come to recognize. That blend of energy and defiance stirs something in him, and he blurts out a suggestion he hadn’t even thought through
“Come study with me at Jujutsu High.”
The proposal surprises both of you, and you stop playing for a moment, though you keep your hand firmly on the joystick to hold your spot. Smiling, you look at him with a mix of affection and amusement.
“That’s not going to happen. I’ll never be a sorcerer. Not even you could change my mind, Nanami.”
A faint blush rises to your cheeks as you say his name, wondering if you’ve let slip too much. You seem about to say something more, but he interrupts, his voice soft and sorrowful.
“I’m alone now. I was left alone”
His words strike you, and though you want to tell him how much he means to you, how you've had a crush on him for months now but you know it’s not the right moment. He’s still too vulnerable, and you wouldn’t want to take advantage of that. Instead, you try to lighten the mood.
“My dad always used to say, ‘You go to school to study, not to make friends,’” you say, imitating your father’s voice and holding a finger under your nose as if you had a mustache. Nanami watches, but the sadness doesn’t leave his gaze.
Finally, you look him in the eyes, speaking with quiet sincerity. “You have all my support, Nanami. You know that, right?”
Nanami meets your eyes, and for a moment, his expression softens, the sadness easing a little. “Thank you,” he murmurs, and you notice a hint of peace behind his smile.
“After school, you probably have homework, just like me,” you suggest, taking a breath. “How about you come to my house every day after classes, and we do it together? Studying will be easier if we have each other’s company.”
Nanami looks at you, a bit taken aback by the suggestion, but he finds himself surprisingly comforted by the idea. Even though he knows your schoolwork might be very different from his own, the thought reassures him.
“And what about your hospital volunteering? Don’t you have to go?” he asks, concern creeping into his voice.
You wave his concern off. “I’ll do it on weekends. There are fewer people, and I can hide what I’m doing more easily. Don’t worry.” You think to yourself that you will have to do an extra year of volunteering because you are going to reduce your hours a week, but it doesn't bother you at all.
Nanami nods, and without another word, he steps toward the claw machine, nudging you aside gently. Reaching into his pocket, he inserts 100 yen. And as the good sorcerer he is, it looks like magic, the claw captures the Palmon on the first try.
As soon as you see the plush descending, you let out a shout of pure joy, bouncing with excitement. Nanami pulls it from the machine and hands it to you.
“Thank you so much, Kento!” you exclaim, hugging the plush tightly, and realizing, as your face flushes, that you’ve called him by his first name.
Nanami blinks, surprised, but then he smiles, seeing you so happy. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of Haibara in your lively expression, just like that day when you met, and the thought fills him with an unexpected peace.
“So, what time should I be coming to your house to keep up with your ‘plan’?” he asks, his tone faintly teasing.
Unable to help it, your smile grew even wider, thrilled to have the Palmon in your hands, happy that Nanami won it for you, ecstatic because you know you'll see him more often, just as you've dreamed awake before going to sleep, you respond, “Let’s meet at Akihabara station after school, and then we can go together. Does that sound good?”
Nanami nods, satisfied with the plan. “Perfect.” With a slight blush, he murmurs almost to himself, but just loud enough for you to hear, “Keep calling me Kento.”
pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - pt. 4
Omakes
Reader meets Gojo
First time
-
🅼🅰🆂🆃🅴🆁🅻🅸🆂🆃
#jjk#jjk nanami#nanami kento#nanami#kento nanami#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#jjk x reader#jjk x you#nanami x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x y/n#jjk kento nanami#kento nanami x you#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x reader#kento x reader#nanami x you#jujutsu nanami#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk fluff#nanami kento fluff#friends to lovers#nanami x y/n#kento jjk#kento x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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Regret and Forgiveness
Ramattra x child!Reader
Word count: 5042
Words decided to word right for me for a change... and the fact that over 5k of them worded right for me is surprising. Perhaps when I have made another full fic like this I will make a seperate master post for them because this is part of the child series with Ramattra I want to complete at some point in the future.. Whenever I can find the time to write and relax from work... We shall see... Also yes, you have a pet slicer because who doesn't want a pet slicer ♥
He has you cornered, oh how silly you were to be running from the leader of Null Sector. Your small body trembles as you step back, only pushing yourself further into that corner. There is nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. He is right there.
Ramattra glares down at you, optics picking up your heightened heart rate and a small, extremely small, part of him feels guilty for the fear he is putting in you. You are just a kid, afterall. “Trust me, you do not need to do much to piss me off. Just a couple of stubborn retorts, a dash of disobedience and a generous serving of reckless behaviour and voila! You have got the perfect recipe to send my systems into a fit of rage.”
“You say that like I do it on purpose! You’re just easily angered!” You yell as you step back, watching as the omnic closes the distance you have made. “You don’t trust me at all!”
You glance down to your slicer unit, its body rumbling as if it was growling towards Ramattra. At least you have my back, you think to yourself amidst the situation.
“Do you really think me being angry is just some flaw of mine and not a direct response to your stubbornness and recklessness?” His wires burn, his chassis heats up as anger, no, rage burns hot inside of him. “And you want to talk about trust? You say I do not trust you, but when you go running off like this, without telling anyone… how do you expect me to trust you? You are acting reckless and immature, not like a child, but like a spoiled brat!”
There was a slight hesitation in your voice as you speak, your mind reeling with memories of your parents and their shouting. “I am not spoiled and you know that!”
Ramattra notices the way you hesitate, the quick flash of pain in your eyes before your anger towards him returns. He lowers his voice slightly, not wanting to shout any longer. “I know you are not spoiled, little one. That is not what I meant.”
“You said it so you clearly meant it.” There was a sharp edge to your voice and Ramattra doesn’t miss it.
“I said you are acting like a spoiled brat, not that you are one. There is a difference.” He snaps back, his patience wearing thin.
“I am acting like a kid who wants to have fun and not be watched everywhere I go! I let you put this tracking device on me as a safety precaution and I can’t even walk down the hallway without you panicking!?” You raise your arm, the tracking device dangling from your wrist.
“It is justifiable concern. You are a child wandering Null Sector, of course I am going to be worried about you if you leave my sight! You go running off after a tantrum and you expect me to not worry about you?”
The wall connects to your back, finally stopping you from going anywhere else. “What else am I supposed to do!? You don’t listen to me and you never let me explain my side before you’re off with some stupid counter argument that makes no sense!”
Ramattra stops just before you.
The slicer unit stands between you and him; a futile attempt in protecting you.
There is nowhere to run now.
“Stupid counter argument? Really? You think my reasons and concerns are stupid? My attempts to keep you safe, to prevent you from getting into trouble, they are just “stupid counter arguments” to you?” There was no doubt about it, he was pissed. “And as for listening to you, I listen to you plenty and give you opportunities to explain yourself. But when you throw a tantrum and lash out, how am I supposed to listen? How am I supposed to understand your side when you refuse to communicate like a mature child?”
Biting the inside of your cheek to ground yourself, you notice the way his fists are clenched, the metal joints grinding from the sheer pressure. Glaring up at him, you’re about to speak before you realise too late that his hand has risen.
The slap connects, the sound ringing in the hallway and in your ear. It burns, your eyes stinging just as much as your cheek from the oncoming tears. Shock and pain course through your body, your head tilted to the side from the impact. No words, not even a sound comes from your mouth as you stand there trying to process what had just happened.
Ramattra stands there, his body and systems frozen. He let his anger get the better of him and the last time he did that to someone as innocent as you, he nearly killed them. Guilt overpowers his own shock as he takes a step back. “I… I am sorry… I did not…”
Tears finally fall down your cheek, the saltiness of them making your cheek sting that little bit more. Bringing your hand up, you try to soothe the pain he had just caused.
“Little one… I– I did not mean to…” He reaches out, wanting to comfort you but your sudden flinch, your body jerking away from him, makes him quickly retract his hand. “I am sorry… I am so sorry… I– I do not know what came over me…”
The omnic takes another step back, wanting to give you distance. His systems go back through the entire situation. Could I have prevented this? The weight of his actions sink in, regret making his words shake. “I cannot… I cannot believe I have done this… to you…”
You stay silent, not knowing what to say. It’s taking everything in your body right now to not break out sobbing, the sting in your cheek making it that much more difficult. A lump forms in your throat as you look up at your guardian.
“Please… Say something… Anything…” It’s breaking his mechanical heart, just the sight of you, the fear and the pain he has caused you. The redness of your cheek, a reminder of the physical pain he has inflicted.
No words come out as they catch in your throat. Taking what little strength you have left, you walk up to Ramattra and then walk past him, keeping as much distance as possible. Your pet follows behind, its little feet tapping against the cold floor.
You do not want to be near him.
He notices the tension in both your body and the air. Guilt threatens to consumes him. He wants to reach out to you, to soothe your pain, to hold you close and make it better but he knows that he has no right to do anything of the sort. Not right now.
“Please…”
Hearing his plea, you stop and turn to face him. “I… I’ll be in your quarters, but, just… leave me alone.” Your voice was quiet, almost a whisper. You hear the soft tapping of your slicer unit hopping past you and you follow behind it.
Ramattra watches as you turn a corner and disappear from his sight. He doesn’t even bother checking the tracking device, his systems are trying to fight off the heating situation before anything else. Part of him wants to chase after you, to apologise for his actions and his words but he doesn’t move.
“[y/n]...”
He’s left alone in the hallway, regret and guilt building up inside of him. He has hurt the one person he had sworn to never lay a hand on. Then, the realisation hits him; he has become the very thing he vowed to protect you from - someone who uses violence to solve problems and assert authority. He let his own principles and values slip away in a single, careless moment.
Meanwhile, you had made your way back to his room, the door sliding open with a hiss and illuminating the dark space inside. On the floor, the broken glass and this mornings breakfast lay there. Part of you doesn’t want to pick it up, but you knew it would only cause more issues. Being as careful as you can, you pick up the broken glass, the shards clinking together in your hand as you drop them into the trash. The toast was hard, stale, hitting the bottom of the can with a loud thunk.
The slicer unit watches you intently, a series of sad sounding chirps and beeps emanating from it.
“I know…” You speak softly before climbing onto the bed. Wrapping yourself in a multitude of blankets, you move yourself as close to the wall as possible, leaving just enough space for your pet slicer to come and intrude. It nudges your arms, moving under them like a puppy would when it wants attention. The metal of its body is cold against your skin, a soft vibration coming from the unit as it snuggles up close to you, wanting to soothe the pain in both your cheek and chest as you sob against it.
Ramattra had been wandering the hallways of the base trying to come up with an apology, a reasoning, something, to make you forgive him, but he knows that he cannot change your minds that quickly. As stubborn as you are, it was a good trait to have when it comes to this. You won’t be so easily swayed and manipulated should someone get their hands on you.
His fists clench at his sides as he keeps walking before he finally finds his way back to his quarters, fingers hovering just over the keypad. He hesitates. Ramattra stands outside of his room, hearing the muffled sobs. He had been standing there for what seemed like an eternity - when in reality, it had been five minutes by the time he came back to his senses.
The door opens once more, the light from the hallway illuminating your body curled up on the bed. You’re not facing him, nor do you want to voluntarily. Ramattra notices the slicer unit lift its head up, a loud rumble escaping it to indicate it’s growling. I failed to do what you are doing now…
The larger omnic stands there, the door closing behind him. Your body shakes under the blankets and as he takes a step closer towards the bed, the slicer unit growls louder.
“Don’t. It’s not worth it.” You mumble, hand appearing from under the blankets to pull the unit back down, it’s body protesting before letting you pull it close.
There was an audible click in Ramattra’s vocaliser as he fights his own emotions. His voice is pained as he speaks quietly. “Little one… please, let me talk to you.”
“If you are going to yell, I will leave.” You warn, not wanting to take anymore of his hostility.
Ramattra takes a step closer only to watch as you shuffle further to the wall, clearly not wanting to be near him. “No, I will not yell. I just want to talk. I do not want to hurt you again.”
You can hear the clear remorse in his voice but you still don’t want to look at him. “Why should I trust you when you don’t trust me?”
Ramattra pauses. The weight of his own hypocrisy hitting him like a tonne of bricks. “You are right. I do not have the right to ask you to trust me after what I have done. My actions were wrong and I know that…” The omnic hesitates before continuing. “I want you to know that I am sorry. I am truly sorry for what I did. I do not expect you to forgive me, but I do want you to know that I never meant to harm you… I lost control and let my emotions get the better of me…”
You hum in response after listening to his apology. The warmth of the blankets makes a small bead of sweat drip down your face but you’re too stubborn to come out. Your pet slicer growls quietly as you hold it tightly. Seems like neither of you want to listen to him much longer.
Ramattra wants to leave but can’t bring himself to do so. Ignoring the slicer unit’s growl, he approaches the bed once more. “Please, little one… just hear me out. I will not force you to talk, but I need to say something that has been eating away at me…”
The silence was unnerving before Ramattra speaks once again.
“I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness… I know that I broke your trust, and that I caused you pain… I do not even deserve to be standing here right now, but I have to say this. Please… let me apologise, genuinely and from the bottom of my soul. And after I am finished, if you want me to leave, I will go and will not disturb you again.”
After a short pause, you come out of the blankets and sit up, pressing your back against the wall. The slicer unit, albeit heavy, sits on your lap shaking in anger. It takes more than the usual amount of courage to look up at Ramattra.
“Fine…” Was all you could say.
A small bruise was beginning to form under your eye, resting just on the bone of your cheek and the guilt overwhelms the larger omnic. His voice shakes, a weakness he had never once shown to anyone but his own brother countless years ago. “Little one… I am truly and sincerely sorry. I should never have laid a hand on you. I should never have hurt you. I know that I broke your trust, and that I shattered the sense of safety you had with me. I know that I hurt you both physically and emotionally.”
You can sense the guilt in his voice once more as you listen to his apology. You grab the closest blanket, bundling it up in your hands, watching as the slicer unit shakes himself free from being hidden under it. You needed some form of comfort and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be from Ramattra.
Ramattra can see the slightest hint of understanding, possibly forgiveness in your eyes but he doesn’t dare hope for much more. “I know that the words “I am sorry” alone will never be enough to erase the damage I have done. I know that words are not enough to heal the pain I have caused you, both inside and out… I know that I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, and that I have no right to hope for it… but please, please know that I am truly, deeply sorry. I know that I will never forgive myself for my actions, and I promise you that I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you…”
Silence fills the room once more. Uncomfortable, unmoving.
Looking away anxiously, you have no idea what to respond with.
“I’m sorry…” You finally muster out.
“No, no… Do not be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for, little one. This is not your fault, it is mine. All of it.” Ramattra is taken aback by your apology but he takes another step closer when he notices that you won’t look at him. “Please, look at me…”
You hesitate, hearing the slicer unit rumbling quietly at the larger omnics request, but you look up at him, his faceplate still expressionless as always.
Ramattra can see the pain etched on your face, the small bruise a reminder of the slap he brought down on you nearly an hour prior. He aches to reach out, to comfort you himself but he can predict the outcome of that ordeal.
“Can I sit down?” When you nod, he tilts his head in a silent thanks before sitting down on the edge of the bed, a generous space between you and him and he was careful to not move too quickly and startle you. The silence hangs heavy in the air as he processes his next string of words.
“Forgive me for asking… but-” He hesitates, already preparing himself for the answer as he looks at you. “Do you hate me?”
The awkwardness was plastered on your face. How do you answer him? After what he’d done, you have every right to hate him but it was one slip up. One bad action. He has been taking care of you for the last year now and everything has been fine. Sure, you had your arguments, but this… this reminded you of home.
“Please, just be honest with me.” Ramattra speaks quietly. The silence that hangs in the air is almost unbearable, each second ticking by like an eternity. He watches as you look away, looking back down at the blanket that is in your hands. The slicer unit hums against your thigh, metal ridges digging into your skin but you pay it no mind.
“I don’t hate you… It’s just… I don’t know… I’m hurt…” You speak with a voice that’s nearly a whisper. You don’t want to look at your guardian, let alone talk with him but you know that if you walk or run away like last time, it will ignite another fire.
Ramattra feels a flood of hope and relief course through him despite the pain evident in your voice. You do not hate me? After what I have done to you?
“I feel like I have destroyed everything between us. I have broken your trust.” Ramattra calmly analyses your demeanour as he notices the way you cling to the blanket. You need comfort and he wants to provide what you need, but he knows all too well that he has no right to do so.
He takes a shaky breath, not that he needs to, but to cool his systems. “I do not know how to make this right.” He finally admits after a short pause. He wants to salvage what is left of his relationship with you, he doesn’t want to be like your parents. He genuinely cares for you, wants you to be a part of his life despite his hatred for humankind.
“I just need time… and space.” Your hand comes up to pat the slicer units head, wanting to soothe its anger and your anxiety.
Ramattra wants to protest, he wants to actually beg for your forgiveness. He doesn’t want to give you space, he wants to be there for you, but your words ring loud in his systems.
Time and space.
How long? How much space?
“I understand.” He finally speaks up. “Just… Promise me one thing, little one.”
“What is it?” You keep your head bowed, focussing on your motions against the slicer units head.
“Promise me that if you need anything, no matter what it is, to come to me, okay?”
Just the request alone makes your body shudder and your hand freeze. After what he’s done, he has the audacity to ask such a thing?
“I will.” You lie. Whatever it takes to get him to leave. You want to be alone. You want to be away from him.
The larger omnic breathes a sigh of relief, his systems calming down. He wants to say more, to keep apologising until his vocaliser hums static. “Thank you.”
He takes one last look at you, your body tense as you stay seated with your back against the wall. Your guard is up and rightfully so. Ramattra stands from the bed, walking back towards the door to give you that much needed space you desire. He can’t bear to look at your frightened form so he speaks to the door. “Please, take care of yourself.”
You don’t look at him, though, just out of the corner of your eye, you can see that his back is turned, beige fabric wafting gently from his movements. “I’ll be here.”
“I will be nearby if you need me.” With hesitancy, Ramattra leaves the room, the door separating the two of you once more. He takes a moment to compose himself, the regret, the guilt swelling inside of him as he tries to calm down but no amount of meditation will make it evaporate. Just as he’s about to walk away, he hears you break out sobbing. He tenses before shaking his head.
He can’t go back in.
He has to leave.
His footsteps echo throughout the halls as he makes his way around the base. There was no destination in mind, it was just him wandering until he either found his way back to his quarters or until he wore the metal of his feet away.
Meanwhile, you pull the blanket around your body, snuggling it up close to your bruised cheek. The soft fibres of the blanket provide a sense of comfort to you, something you wish that Ramattra could give.
Your hand tightens around the fabric before you remove it from your face. The anger swirls in your mind once more but you can’t entirely blame him for his actions. You roused him, you pissed him off. If you didn’t run and instead spoke to him, you wouldn’t have been struck…
But, on the other hand, if he had just listened to you in the first place, if he would’ve just understood that you didn’t want to disturb his charging time just for some toast and didn’t start yelling at you for your “careless behaviour”, then maybe you wouldn’t have run.
Groaning out, you fall back against the bed, your pet slicer coming up and curling beside you, emanating warmth against the side of your body.
Ramattra had made his way towards the control room after several laps of the base, the hum of electronics being the only noise in the room. He’s slouched in the chair, optics staring up at the muted monitors. The reality hits him hard, fingers tapping away at the table before swiftly throwing everything off of the control panel, letting it crash on the floor.
His systems involuntarily go through the scene; the way your head snapped to the side as his hand connected to your cheek. The heat and redness that instantly swelled, the tears that pricked your eyes. Your shock. Fear.
It scared him more than he’d like to admit. From your first encounter, being so friendly and unnerved by his presence, holding his hand and examining him to this… timid and frightened child.
He growls, slamming his fist against the control panel. Your stubbornness is just as bad as his, you have a sharp tongue, quick to respond when provoked… and now… You hesitate. You step back, you go as far back as you can possibly get.
“I messed up. This is all my fault.” Ramattra fights his own thoughts, fights against his systems to rid the nightmare that plagues his optics. His hands fiddle with the holopad, pads of his fingers beginning to type, beginning to work. He wants to forget.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours and Ramattra had finalised three separate plans and a backup plan for each. Whilst focussing on the tedious part of counting numbers for his army, he doesn’t hear the beeping of the tracking device.
You’re on the move.
As you’re walking through the maze of hallways, the little slicer unit trots alongside you much like a puppy with it’s owner. You’re still clutching the blanket in your hands as you pass several Null Sector units but none of them pay you any mind. You’re a visitor, you’re not a threat.
Ramattra had changed their programming, granted it took longer than he had anticipated, but seeing you able to interact with them as a curious kid should do, it warmed his circuits. You were careful and gentle, small hands tracing their ridges and curvatures. You treated them like they were omnics, not war machines. You treated them as if they were friends, not enemies.
Perhaps, that was when Ramattra found himself yearning to keep you close by.
As he’s inputting the last set of numbers into the database, there was a quiet and timid sounding knock on the door causing Ramattra to snap out of his work daze. He fell silent, wondering if he was just hearing things, but when the knock sounds again, he perks up, sitting straighter in his chair.
He waits for a moment longer before speaking up and then returning back to his plans. “Come in.” Ramattra hears the door hiss open before it shuts again, but there was no talking. The quick succession of tip-tapping makes him turn around, watching as your slicer unit makes a beeline for the sofa on the far side of the room, instantly jumping up and resting on it, humming quietly.
Familiarity.
Ramattra turns his attention to you, your slow movement forwards making him feel uncertain about the upcoming conversation. You’re here for a reason, either you’re going to change your mind and now hate him, or you forgive him. Ramattra leans towards the hatred.
The blanket drags behind you, picking up small particles of debris as you keep walking towards the control panel where Ramattra was still seated.
A pang of guilt rises within the larger omnic upon seeing the bruise that has formed on your cheek. The reminder of his actions will haunt him until it fades and then some days or even weeks after the fact. He could always wipe the nightmare from his systems, never to be remembered again, but should it be brought up in another argument, should it be mentioned, he would have no idea what you were talking about.
Rustling breaks him out of his thoughts. He doesn’t realise how close you had gotten as you stand in front of him.
Innocent eyes catch his optics behind the faceplate. Uncertainty. Hesitation.
Just get on with it. Tell me you hate me. I will let you go.
What he didn’t anticipate was your outstretched arms towards him. Words had caught in your throat, all sounds had caught in your throat, blocked by the lump that had settled there the moment you had knocked on the door.
Ramattra hesitates, his systems freezing momentarily as he attempts to process your request. Without thinking a second longer, he slides out of the chair, knees hitting the cold floor beneath him as he pulls you to his chest. Large arms wrap around your small body as he holds you close.
The hum of his inner workings vibrate against your cheek and he’s warmer than usual. You can hear a faint thumping, perhaps coolant pumping through his chassis, though it sounds more like a heartbeat. The thought alone makes you smile.
“Rama…” Your voice was muffled against the blanket, his arm and his chest. He pulls back slightly, letting you shift within his arms.
“Yes, little one?” He looks down at you, his hands releasing their tight grip on your body.
There was a moment of silence, a hesitation before you speak. “I forgive you.”
Ramattra’s hands twitch against you, systems repeating your words inside of his head. “You forgive me?” I did not expect you to forgive me so soon, if at all…
He watches as you nod before he’s pulling you back against his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back in a soothing motion. It was a moment short lived as you pull back completely and Ramattra silently sighs for he already misses your embrace.
“I… I’m sorry for running off. And yelling. It’s my fault that you lost your temper.” Your small hands grip the blanket tightly as you apologise, but Ramattra wasn’t having it.
“No, do not apologise. This was not your fault. I lost my temper. It is my responsibility to have control over my emotions and I let my own anger get the better of me.” He places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
“I shouldn’t have yelled… I’m sorry.” You look away, eyes focusing on the holopad that’s on the floor.
Ramattra tilts his head to the side before shaking it. His hand moves from your shoulder to your chin, turning your head and forcing you to look at him. “You have nothing to apologise for. I am the one who lost control and I hurt you. This is not your fault, little one.”
He can sense that you want to argue back but you bite your tongue. It would only drag the situation on longer and neither of you have either the strength nor the patience to start another argument.
“Are you okay? That bruise looks bad.” His moves his hand from your chin to cup your cheek, thumb gently brushing over the small pained area.
“It hurts to smile sometimes.” You admit, glancing off to the side. It still pains Ramattra that he did this to you, guilt still simmering inside of his circuits. “You are always so concerned about me.”
Ramattra chuckles lightly, hand falling to his side as he looks at you. “Of course I am concerned about you. It is my responsibility to take care of you and I do care about you. I do not wish to see you hurt, by anybody's hand, might I add.” He pauses, head tilting once again. “I care about you a lot, [y/n].”
The admission makes your heart beat a tad bit faster and Ramattra’s systems pick up on it instantly.
“Come here.” He opens his arms, an invitation for you which there was no hesitation in taking. You wrap your arms around his back, hands holding onto the silver metal braces as his arms comfortably wrap around your frame. “I just need to know that you are safe. Your safety is my utmost priority.”
“And I just want you to trust me.” You say softly.
Ramattra moves a hand to the back of your head, rubbing up and down to soothe the remaining anxiety inside of you.
“You and your oversized kitchen knife of a pet make that extremely difficult.” Ramattra retorts, his chest vibrating as he chuckles.
You can’t help the giggle that escapes you at his remark about your pet slicer unit. “You love us.”
“That I do, little menace. That I do.”
—
KOFI
#overwatch#ramattra#ramattra x reader#overwatch 2#reader insert#child!reader#overwatch fanfiction#yazzfics
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Maddie's Mission
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
The Hargreeves household was bustling with its usual energy, but there was a particular tension in the air today. Maddie Hargreeves, at sixteen, had a mission: she desperately wanted to go to a party that night. Unfortunately for her, she was grounded for sneaking out past curfew the previous weekend.
She paced in the living room, rehearsing her arguments while her father, Five Hargreeves, sat at the dining table, sipping his coffee and reading the paper. Y/n and twelve-year-old Milo were at the kitchen counter, sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching the unfolding drama with amused anticipation.
"Dad," Maddie began, trying to keep her tone calm and reasonable, "I know I messed up last weekend, but this party is really important. It's Sam's birthday, and everyone is going to be there."
Five didn’t look up from his paper. "Maddie, you’re grounded. We’ve been over this."
"Dad, please," she pleaded, her voice edging towards desperation. "I promise I'll come home on time and won't do anything stupid."
Five finally looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "That’s what you said last time, and yet here we are."
Y/n tried to stifle a laugh while Milo munched on popcorn, his eyes wide with interest. Maddie shot them a glare before turning her attention back to her father.
"But this is different! I’ve learned my lesson," Maddie insisted. "I’ll even text you every hour to let you know where I am."
Five folded his paper and sighed, his expression stern. "Maddie, actions have consequences. You need to understand that."
Maddie’s frustration grew, and she crossed her arms defiantly. "This is so unfair! All my friends get to go out whenever they want. Why can’t you trust me?"
"Trust is earned, Maddie," Five replied evenly. "And sneaking out doesn’t exactly build trust."
Milo nudged Y/n and whispered, "Do you think she’ll ever convince him?"
Y/n shook her head, smiling. "Not a chance. your Dad is as stubborn as they come."
Maddie tried a different approach, her voice softening. "Dad, please. I really need this. I've had a tough week at school, and I just want to unwind a little. I promise I’ll be good."
Five’s expression softened slightly, but he remained firm. "I understand you want to have fun, Maddie, but rules are rules. You’re grounded for a reason, and I’m not changing my mind."
Maddie’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew when her father had made up his mind, there was no budging him. "Fine," she muttered, turning to leave the room.
Y/n and Milo exchanged looks as Maddie retreated upstairs. Milo turned to his mother, popcorn forgotten. "Do you think she’s really learned her lesson?"
Y/n smiled and ruffled his hair. "I think she’s learning, but it’ll take some time."
Five sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Parenting isn’t easy, is it?"
Y/n walked over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You’re doing great, Five. She’ll come around."
Later that evening, Maddie came down to the living room, where Five was reading a book. She sat down beside him, her expression more subdued. "Dad?"
Five looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, Maddie?"
She took a deep breath. "I’m sorry for sneaking out last weekend. I know I broke your trust, and I’ll try to do better."
Five’s expression softened, and he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, Maddie. That means a lot. We just want you to be safe and responsible."
Maddie nodded, and for the first time that day, she smiled. "I understand."
As Five watched his daughter walk away, he felt a sense of relief. Parenting was indeed challenging, but moments like this made it all worthwhile. And in the kitchen, Y/n and Milo shared a knowing smile, proud of the small victory they had witnessed.
#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves x you#number five imagine#number five x reader#the umbrella academy#number five#number five one shot#five hargreeves
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Dear Magisowo
Im a dwarf woman in need of some advice, mainly on how to convince my overbearing parents to let me live my life.
As i’m sure you know to us dwarves beards and body hair aren’t just a male or stylistic thing. Both sexes being hairy and bearded for better and worse, beards especially holding a lot of cultural value and significance. Shaving being seen as an extremely taboo thing amongst more traditionally minded dwarves, and this is where my problems begin. I come from a highly traditional dwarf household, my folks being super steadfast in their belief and values, my father especially. Me and my parents have always been butting heads and it’s gotten especially bad recently ever since they found out I started shaving.
I never really liked having my hair long, not on my head nor my face yet I was always forced to wear it that way my whole life by my folks. Recently however after moving out I’ve made the decision to start shaving and it’s improved my life greatly. I can wear all the cute outfits I want and I enjoy my beard short, being both less maintenance and more stylish. The only problem is my parents refuse to accept it, they believe that I’m “rejecting my dwarven heritage” or “fallen for human none-sense” and can’t seem to wrap their heads around my reasoning no matter how much I try to explain it to them.
Is there any way I can get them to if not accept, then to atleast understand that that this is a personal choice I’m making and to accept my life choices and boundaries. Their stubborn old stones yet I do love them and want them to realize this is something I want to do.
Signed: Shaved Dwarf Lass
Dear Shaved Dwarf Lass,
Perhaps it will comfort you to know that generational clashes over various ways of personal expression have been happening in dwarven culture (as in any culture) for centuries. It is not a new thing, nor is it exclusively linked to dwarves living alongside humans or other communities. Although that has certainly been a big influence lately. It is not impossible your parents vividly remember dwarven cultural dress and hairstyles being actively looked down upon by non-dwarves, but that doesn't mean you should have to give up feeling comfortable in your own body.
If your parents are worried you are turning away from your heritage, or feeling pressure to conform to someone else's desires than your own, perhaps there are other activities you can do with them to demonstrate this is not the case.
Depending on your own feelings with regard to your choice to shave and whether this means something to your identity or not, it might be interesting to look into dwarven hairstyles from history. There have been wonderful exhibits of the subject, led by dwarven historians. It is not so long ago that it was customary for dwarves to keep the center of the chin almost clean shaven, and the change to a center braid was considered very shocking at the time. If any of these examples from history resonate with you, that might be something to share with your parents and open the conversation in a way that frames this as your free choice as a dwarf, instead of how they seem to perceive it.
Best of luck,
~ the MagISoWo Team
#dwarf#dwarves#magisowo#a very pratchett question <3#I am still jumpscared by how long asks can be nowadays
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Liu Woods: Certified Wholesome
I said in a previous post that Liu will shower with his friends, and I meant it! (I also talked some about it here) So, here is all the ways that Liu is a supportive and amazing person/friend.

"If you won't take care of yourself, I will take care of you"
He’ll make sure you take your meds!! If you don’t take your meds, he will make a whole ass chart to remind you. Toby and Jeff may act irritated, but he does it because they care. He will call you when it’s time to take them and FaceTime you to make sure you take them. He’ll tell you to stick out your tongue and everything.
He will also shower with you. If you’re too depressed to actually get out of bed and shower, he’ll bridal carry you and set you in the shower. He’ll have the hot water running and massage your head while he washes your hair. He’ll let you lean on his chest while he uses a loofa to get you all clean. He has a no-scent, sensitive skin, body wash and coconut shampoo. He has a shower gel that smells like vanilla so you can feel all clean and smell good.
"You're on your period? Oh! Here's some princess treatment."
Pain killers that actually work. He’s got you covered. Pamprin with caffeine is the main thing he’ll give you. If you prefer something else like extra strength Tylenol, ibuprofen, whatever works for you, he will go to the store to get it for you.
Again, he’s gonna make you shower. If you don’t have the energy to, he’s gonna bathe you. He’ll give you a tampon if you use them because, even if he doesn’t exactly mind the blood, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll let it get on him if it can be avoided, yk?
Snuggles. He’ll wrap you up in blankets to make sure you’re nice and cozy.
Heating pads or ice packs. He has no clue how this works and he will get both just in case.
Craving something? He’s got you. He can cook really well! His momma taught him well.
Worried about your body image? He will shower you with compliments until you are happy with yourself.
Jane is gonna get spammed. He will do his best to help you, but the only girls he had growing up was his mom and Jane. He didn’t- and still doesn’t- know shit about periods or the female body.

"Oh shit! You need condoms? I got you covered!!"
He’s got a ton of sizes. He knows everyone is made differently and that people need different sizes it totally isn’t because he has no clue what size to get for himself and has a shit-ton left over…
He will tell you how to use it. Even if you’ve used em before, he wants to be 100% sure you’re being safe with your partner.
He’s going over consent. Again, he doesn’t care if you’ve done this before. He wants to know that you and your partner are being safe.
He’ll help with stubbornness. If your partner is being a dick about condoms or protection (some people are idk why), he will help you try to convince them why it’s important or talk you into leaving their ass.
Teaching Life Skills
*a gaff is basically tucking underwear
**He says duck because he can’t pronounce the word duct.
Shaving. Legs? Underarms? Pubes? He’s got you covered. He might be a bit confused about the face but he’ll watch YouTube tutorials to do his research. He will shave his legs and underarms with you to help out.
Tucking and Binding. He doesn’t want you getting hurt. He’s tucked a lot in his life and he will show you how. He’ll buy you a binder, trans tape, gaff*, or medical tape if needed or give you safe makeshift ways of doing so.
“Don’t you fucking dare use duck** tape!!” Is a very common phrase he will shove down your throat
Car Stuff. He’ll teach you how to jump your car, check the oil, put air in your tires, and change your oil.
“It’s easier and most of the time cheaper to do it yourself, you know?”
Emotional Support
Snuggles, vents, relationship advice, anything.
He will always be there for you 100%
"Your parents didn't teach you something? Bitch, I'm your parent now. Sit down and let's talk."
“The Talk.” He had to give it to Jeff, he does not mind giving it to someone else.
Healthy coping skills, conflict escalation, interpersonal skills, etc.
He’ll do anything and everything to make you feel safe and comfortable
Literal Adoption. Lulu and Sally are his and, later on, EJ is going to make a few more red rose demons to literally save his species with the help of Hydra, so they are his too.
Divider Creds: Sisterlucifergraphics
#creepypasta#creepypasta fandom#crp#crp fandom#creepypasta headcanon#crp headcanon#homicidal liu#creepypasta liu#liu creepypasta#liu woods creepypasta#homicidal liu creepypasta#ej x liu#creepypasta homicidal liu#homicidal liu x eyeless jack#eyeless jack x homicidal liu
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To love is to be changed
Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x Reader, Melissa Schemmenti x Gary
Warning: Slay Nonna, Crappy Gary, Sad lesbians, stop the wedding
Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt6



“Truthfully, I’m not sure there is anything you can do Mel” I sighed ���please. There has to be something” she stepped closer. “Anna, she loves the colour green specifically forest green and baking, cupcakes are her favourite” I breathed in.
“You can visit whenever you like so you need to know things about her and if you prove good with her I- you could even have nights”. Melissa smiled to herself “thank you Y/n/n” I nodded in acknowledgment “I realise I shouldn’t be here Melissa, I shouldn’t have come”.
“Would you have told me about Anna if you hadn’t come today?”
“No”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” I laugh “how would I? I didn’t know if you had changed your number or if you had this new life with children that you love. What if I told you about Anna and you wanted nothing to do with her?”
My eyes couldn’t meet Melissa’s as I paced back and forth beginning to rant “and I mean pushing Anna into this new life now is hard, she’s so used to having just her mama and her duncle Liam”
“Duncle?”
I paused “it means her dad uncle but that’s besides the point I wouldn’t know what to do if the worst case scenario was to happen plus I had tried to tell you before. Now you’re getting married” I sighed wrapping my arms around myself.
“What if I don’t want to get married?” She asked causing me to stop “what if I’m doing this because I’m not getting any younger?” She laughed shaking her head. “I mean look at me Y/n, I’m still hot but I’m old y’know I never had a life that all these little girl’s dream of”.
“I got married too young to the wrong person and when I found the right one I screwed it up just like everything else I touch. And now I find that I have a daughter”
“Don’t”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t get married if you don’t want to”
-
I shake my head zoning back in as Melissa waves her hand in front of my face.
Don’t get married
“Anna, she deserves both parents even if Liam has been an awesome dad there’s still things we can’t explain to her” I smile sadly. “For me there isn’t much, I came to terms with your absence years ago it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you I’m just used to the silence now”.
“Why did you come here?” Melissa asked “why did you call?” I returned “I asked first” she held her head up “hope? That maybe you would see me and change your mind but it was stupid of me I realise it now” she looked unfairly beautiful. I hoped Gary was a good guy who treated her well and I hoped she could live the life she’d always dreamed even if that life wasn’t lived with me.
Don’t get married sat on the tip of my tongue
Don’t get married
Don’t get married
“It’s not stupid hon, you’re just in love and so am I”
Just not with me
So I nod and smile “yeah yeah, I get it” she reaches for my hand again and finally I let her hold it “I really don’t deserve you” I know you don’t. “Let’s just hope this one lasts” I joke wanting to leave as soon as possible “yeah” Melissa breathed out.
You sat beside Nonna who held your hand as Melissa walked down the aisle “I always told her she was stupid for leaving” she whispered in your ear. “I can’t stand this one, I don’t think he can even wash his balls without Melissa holding his hand”.
You tried not to laugh, oh karma it seemed sadly “it’s her life Nonna” you responded with a small shrug “we’ve made our beds, I raise our daughter and she gets married”.
“You’re a good girl Y/n/n if only Melissa wasn’t so damn stubborn”
Soon enough Melissa stood at the front her hands clasped with Garys and boy did you find him severely underwhelming. At least Joe had been attractive, you watched as they said their vows the more you watched the more annoyed you felt.
Gary hardly had vows it seemed like a shopping list while Melissa gave her everything and when it came to I do he only seemed cocky. Smug bastard you thought to yourself while Nonna tsked in disapproval, Melissa paused as she looked back to the crowd.
Her eyes met yours “I-” her face seemed desperate, you nodded “I.. I” she began to panic slightly “go on” Gary rushed. This was getting messy the hold on your hand tightened as Nonna watched the man “I can’t Gary I’m sorry” she sighed in defeat.
“I have made many mistakes in my life and I don’t want this to be another one, I love you I do but we won’t work” her voice soft. “I’m sorry for wasting everyone’s time” Melissa turned to the crowd “I- this isn’t how I planned my life and definitely not who I had planned my life with”.
Slowly she walked sadly back up the aisle leaving Gary at the altar.
#imagine#wlw#lisa ann walter#lisa ann walter x reader#abbott elementary#melissa schemmenti x gary#melissa ann schemmenti#melissa schemmenti imagine#melissa schemmenti x reader#hurtfic#hurt/comfort#angst
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(🎄) ... mirth and good cheer - xmas special teaser
⭐ starring: vernon
🎄preview: vernon used to fly back to new york every christmas for one reason only: his childhood best friend. christmas used to be his and y/n’s thing, until he got seemingly too busy to ever return. now, as y/n departs to korea for the first time, she can’t help but wonder if her and vernon would ever cross paths again. vernon, unbeknownst to her, has been wondering the exact same thing. as the boys set up their christmas tree in their dorm, he does his best to ignore how hints of y/n still seemed to linger throughout the holiday air.
tw/cw: idol!vernon x nonidol!reader, childhood friends to lovers, estranged friends, slight miscommunication, fluff, slight angst, best christmas romcom vibes, features svt members, stubborn!reader, equallystubborn!vernon, use of y/n, flips between past and present day
🐻❄️ release date: christmas day
☁️ masterlist & a/n: dropping a vernon x reader fic for our xmas special! doesn't vernon just scream childhood bestie to lover (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ i just know i'm going to have sm fun writing this cuz the dynamic is so interesting! its already giving christmas romcom vibes and omg you guys are not ready.
11 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:
“That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” Mingyu slapped Vernon’s hand away from the tree they were decorating. “It’s supposed to be symmetrical, not whatever you’re doing.”
Vernon had to admit he wasn’t really paying attention. Their dorm auntie, the one who came around once a week to clean up the place, had baked them gingerbread men as a Christmas gift, and the smell felt like it had seeped into the walls of their dorm. It was a nostalgic smell, one that took him back to his childhood, new york and-
“Vernon?” Mingyu waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you even listening right now?”
He blinked, brought back from his thoughts. “Sorry, hyung. What?”
Mingyu could only let out a deep sigh, moving to place the bauble where he intended it to be. “You’re like this every Christmas. If you miss her so much, why don’t you just fly back?”
Vernon didn’t really know why he wasn’t flying back. He certainly could be, they were off work for the holidays and a plane ticket back wasn’t hard to find. He would be doing himself a favor, putting himself out of misery and finally seeing his childhood best friend. The thing was, he wasn’t really sure if Y/N wanted to see him. He shrugged. “I don’t miss her.” It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it.
CHRISTMAS DAY 2003:
Everyone who knew either of them would say they were smart kids for their age. Both only five, they whispered secrets to each other like little middle schoolers would on the playground.
“My parents say I’m going to Korea.” Vernon whispered to Y/N as they watched a christmas movie. “Forever.” Vernon always had a dramatic, theatrical side to him, even as a child.
Y/N could only frown. “Forever? Why?” She couldn’t imagine her best friend moving anywhere without her. “Am I going too?”
Vernon mirrored her frown on his own face. “I don’t know.” Sensing her sadness, he reached over and gave her a hug. “I’ll visit every year.” He promised.
“Every christmas.” Y/N insisted. She had always loved christmas above all else. “So we can watch movies again.”
Vernon agreed. “Okay. Every christmas. It’ll be like-” He paused, his young mind searching for the word. “Tradition.” He smiled at her, proud of the big word.
“Promise?” Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, reaching out with her pinky, extended. “Pinky promise me.”
Vernon grasped her pinky with his, shaking it firmly. He felt like a grown up, making one of those important business deals. “I promise.” Turning back to the screen, he let out a whine when he realized they had missed the best part. “We missed the part where the grinch screams down the mountain.” He complained. “I wanted to watch that part.”
Y/N got up, searching for the remote. “I’ll turn it back.”
Their dynamic never changed, even as they grew older. Vernon walked through life, Y/N following behind him with eyes filled with admiration, gently nudging the boy whenever he got distracted and began walking off-track. It stayed that way even with the distance, until one Christmas, Y/N woke up and Vernon had not returned.
CHRISTMAS DAY 2016:
“Mom?” Y/N called as she walked slowly down the stairs. She had returned home from university for the holidays and was confused when Vernon wasn’t at his usual spot to welcome her home. “Where’s Vernon?” He was usually back from Korea by now.
She didn’t like the look of pity her mother was giving her. “He didn’t tell you, honey? He’s been so busy with work, looks like he can’t fly back to join us for christmas this year.”
She felt her heart sink. She had been looking forward to spending time with him, even if it was just a couple of days out of the year. “Oh.” Of course, she understood. His work was important and she was sure the kpop industry couldn’t be easy. “That’s okay. I guess he must’ve been too busy to tell me.”
--
“What are you still doing here?” Joshua frowned at Vernon, who was lying down on his bed. “Shouldn’t you be in New York by now?” He was used to Vernon flying back to New York every christmas since they had met.
Vernon let out a huff. “Not going back this year, Josh.”
“Why not?” His friend pressed, confused. Vernon was usually so excited to go back. “Isn’t your friend going to be sad?”
“I can’t miss any more practice before our comeback. One Christmas should be fine.” Vernon explained, although his voice betrayed his disappointment. He had been looking forward to going back home, to be able to see Y/N again. He thought to himself that one christmas couldn’t hurt, right?
One christmas missed turned into two. Then four. Then the timing felt too long and awkward and Vernon just never got the confidence to ever go back.
10 DAYS FROM CHRISTMAS 2024:
Korea was beautiful underneath a sheet of snow. Y/N had landed last night, having made up her mind to give living in Korea a try. Ever since graduating university and landing a job as a screenwriter, her friends and family had always urged her to try working for the Korean film scene.
She supposed she had always just avoided the country because of Vernon.
Her new job writing for some K-drama started after New Years. She thought maybe spending Christmas in a new place would bring back the mirth and good cheer the holiday used to give her, but she knew she was here for a different reason. A selfish and pathetic one. It burned her, that a part of her still wished to bump into Vernon after all these years. She knew he was doing well, SEVENTEEN was soaring through new heights and she had kept tabs on his ongoing success. It was the only way she kept going: his large internet presence sometimes made it feel like he never even left at all.
It hurt her the most that he could be doing so well without ever seeing her again.
Rounding the corner to the coffee shop, she rubbed her raw hands to regain heat. Ordering, she was relieved to find out she could still hold a conversation in Korean. It had gone rusty, the only people she ever used Korean with back home was Vernon’s dad and sister.
“Hello?” Someone from behind her tapped her on the shoulder. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagines#svt#svt imagines#svt fluff#seventeen#vernon#vernon x reader#vernon x y/n#vernon x you#seventeen christmas#idol fic#my fic#svt fanfic#svt fic#svt scenarios#seventeen fic#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you
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Hi!
I love your stories, could you make one where the reader is dating Miguel and is also a part of the spider community. The reader helps Miles to escape and Miguel finds out and argue with her.
I hope that you will keep writing stories.
Have a great day !
omg omg hii! I'm so glad you enjoy my stories, receiving these types of compliments always make my day :DD. And, i deeply apologise for taking this long to write your request; I've been so busy with my uni exams.. Anyways, here's your story!!
I HATE TO FIGHT YOU. (Miguel O'Hara × gn!reader)
warnings: Angst to light sfw (at the end)???, Miguel expressing his anger by literally destroying his lab lmao, VERY LONG ONE SHOT.

☆
Superpowers aren’t easy.
So it wasn’t a relationship with the leader of the Spider Society. Miguel was not an easy guy to argue with, you might call him stubborn, which was one of his main features. And even when Miles Morales, the newcomer to society, tried to change his mind, begging him to give him a chance to save his father, he hadn’t changed his mind. There was nothing Miles could do to change his mind. It was difficult with me, imagine with the others! But this is another story; Miles Morales was chased by an angry mob of Spider people, led by Miguel, flanked by me. The walls of the structure resounded with encouraging screams that every spider person gave himself, giving more charge during that chase. Miles was right in front of us, dodging webs and traps stretched by other members. There was something about that kid that maybe wasn’t something wrong.
He needed to be sent home and help him save his parents. I had not succeeded, and I would have avoided that another person (moreover a little boy!) would have gone through the same pain that I had to go through. Miguel and I split up, and that was my chance. With a perfect throw of my web, he managed to grab Miles' right arm and pull it towards me. The boy stretched his eyes, thinking it was the end for him. Only when I made a sign to him to become invisible and to hide behind a shaded wall, he understood. He hid me in turn, letting the angry crowd pass us.
Now it was the right time. "Miles". I called the kid with the labored breath and he returned to his normal form. He was exhaling and inspiring too, following the hunt we were giving him. Without wasting time, looking around if there was a person there, I took out my time clock, and put it on his wrist. " This clock will take you to your dimension. It’s already set for where you need to go. Don’t ask any more questions, go." Without giving him an answer, I left him there, in the shadows, his face confused and sweaty, while I waved him to go.
~☆~
"You did what?!"
"He’s a boy, Miguel!"
"You have no idea how serious the situation is because of you".
"Miguel, you have to reason. You can’t really thi-".
"The situation is far worse than you think, puta madre!"
Miguel’s scream rang out the second it left his mouth. I could compare him to an animal: panting, with his eyes reddened and grainy, studying every movement, his shoulders outstretched, ready to attack his prey, me, or maybe someone else. His fierce and intimidating tone made me shudder, close my eyes for fear that something might happen, or worse; I held my arms in place along my hips, biting my lip to channel the emotions I had inside. I didn’t want to show weakness before Miguel. Or better: he had already seen me as I was. Fragile, with doubts that twisted my mind, like a normal human being, yet in those situations I always tried not to show off... I wanted to have everything under control. The man didn’t realize that he was wrong, that he was blinded by this compulsive obsession with control. We were talking about a little boy, Jesus Christ!
I opened my eyes.
My thoughts were replaced by the still threatening tone of Miguel, my lover, who took a long sigh, pinching the tip of his nose. Then he shook his head, turning his back. The lab was upside down: the news of my help to Miles was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
"The consequences are serious. I can’t risk losing more people to a kid".
That was more a warning to him than to myself. "I need to think about it... I need to be alone".
"Miguel.." I tried to talk to him.
With one hand he stopped me from talking to him and shook his head slightly, not looking at me. " No." He said. "I know what you did. It was right. But now I need to be on my own" he repeated feebly, that I found it difficult to understand well what he wanted. Then I agreed, because I respected his condition and his well-being, so I left him alone in the now ruined laboratory, with the last words: "I only did what was right. He deserves a chance", then the doors closed. I swear I heard something from him.
"And I don’t blame you. But it’s not right that he can save his family, and I couldn’t do it".
#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#oneshot#miguel o hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o hara#miguel x reader#spiderman atsv#atsv miguel#atsv#angst
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Stardew Rancher AU - Intro cutscene
Here's my first piece for the Stardew AU challenge.
If you want to take part too, use the #traffic stardew au tag (You can also use the banner I made). On my blog, I will be using #stardew ranchers au as well.
The writing is under the cut.
>> Next Part
I hate this life.
Jimmy doesn’t remember a day in the last year he has not thought this. He’s staring at a computer screen, as he has been for the last seven hours, when it hits him. He hates this life. In fact, it could barely be qualified as a life.
He misses nature. Running around in the grass, playing, talking to people… He turns his head around to look at the window, but there isn’t even any on the office walls. He looks around him and only sees rows and rows of cubicles with other lifeless people slaving all day. The clicking of keyboards and mouths, the buzzing of the neon lights, it’s all too much.
I can’t stand it anymore, he thinks to himself. I need a way out.
Suddenly, he remembers a conversation he had with his grandpa, when he was young, about the burden of modern life. He hadn’t really realised what it had meant before today. Jimmy, like his parents, had dismissed it as the stubbornness of an old man who was made to live in the countryside. But it must have stayed on the back of his mind, because he kept the letter.
In fact…
He opens the drawer of his desk and there it is. A fancy old letter with a fancy purple seal.
(He’s definitely not going to think about the fact that he kept it in his drawer at work and the possible implication of that. Nope.)
With shaky hands, he breaks the seal and opens it. The swoosh of the paper unfolding is the loudest sound he’s ever heard in his life.
The letter says:
Dear Jimmy,
If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.
The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life… real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.
I’ve enclosed the deed to that place… my pride and joy: The Ranch. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.
This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honour the family name, my boy. Good luck.
Love, Grandpa.
PS: If the Sherrif is still alive say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?
He puts the letter down and looks up at the ceiling for a second.
In all the emptiness he feels, it’s like he’s just grown wing.
🌿 loading🌿
The bus startles to a stop and Jimmy wakes up.
“Pelican Town!” The driver screams.
Jimmy looks around. There’s no else on anymore. He quickly grabs his travel bag and gets out. He says his thanks to the bus driver who just hums unhappily. Guess he really didn’t want to go that far out for just one person.
On the side of the road is just a small clearing, with broken fences and dirt path. Someone is waiting for him, though. A man with cyan blue hair and an easygoing smile.
“Hello, you must be Jimmy,” he sayswith a cheerful voice. “I’m Scott, the local florist. Mayor Grian sent me here to fetch you and show you the way to your new home. He’s there right now, tidying things up for your arrival.”
It takes a second for Jimmy to find his words. The reality of what he’s done hitting him finally. He quit his job. He moved out of his appartment. He sold his things and bought a ticket for this small town in the middle of nowhere to become a farmer.
“Nice to meet you, Scott,” he says after swallowing. “I…”
Gosh, he cannot screw this up. This isn’t like in the city. The people he meets are going to be the community he’s going to live with. He wants to make a good impression.
Scott smiles, tilting his head to the side. He looks Jimmy up and down with mischief in his eyes in a way that makes Jimmy blush a little. He must be tired.
“The farm’s right over here, if you’ll follow me.”
Jimmy nods and follows him on the dirt path until they reach an area with a… house. Supposedly.
“This is the Ranch,” Scott announces, waving his arm around to show the land that stretches before them..
The Ranch is an old building made out of wood. It looks like it’s been built in the last century. The farmland around, which was included in Scott’s gesture, is littered with some kind of forest. There are different types of trees, dead wood on the ground, bushes, and even some rocks! Is this really the farm his grandfather loved ?
“What’s the matter?” Scott asks in a light voice. He’s got his arms crossed in front of him and an air of challenge about him. “Sure, it’s a bit overgrown, but there’s some good soil underneath that mess! With a little dedication, you’ll have it cleaned up in no time.”
He turns back towards the house itself. Jimmy notes that there’s plenty of firewood on the side of the house. Someone must have stacked it for him. That thought settles in his chest, fluttering like a bird. He won’t sleep in the cold tonight, and that’s thanks to strangers.
“... And here we are, your new home,” Scott says.
Just like his words summoned him, a man opens the door and gets down the few steps of his porch to stop in front of them. He pulls the sleeves of his red sweater back to his writs and offers his hand to Jimmy.
“Ah, the new farmer! Welcome, I’m Grian, the Mayor of Pelican Town.”
Jimmy shakes his hand and introduces himself. Grian nods, seemingly satisfied.
“You know, everyone’s been asking about you. It’s not every day that someone new moves in. It’s quite a big deal.” He turns to look back at the house. “So… you’re moving into your grandfather’s old cottage. It’s a good house… very ‘rustic’.”
“Rustic?” Scott chimes in. “That’s one way to put it… ‘Crusty’ might be a little more apt, though.”
“Rude,” Grian says under his breath, his eyebrows frowning. “Don’t listen to him, Jimmy. He’s just trying to make you dissatisfied so that you buy one of Gem’s house upgrades.”
“Gem?” Jimmy asks.
“She’s the local carpenter. She lives north of the valley, near the mountain.”
Gem, the local carpenter. Jimmy tries to mentally catalogue. She makes house upgrades. He turns his eyes towards Scott. He doesn’t remember if he said what he was doing.
“Anyway… You must be tired from the long journey,” Grian says, looking back at the house. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow you ought to explore the town a bit and introduce yourself. The townspeople would appreciate that.”
He turns to leave and sees the box placed next to the mailbox.
“Oh, I almost forgot. If you have anything to sell, just place it in the box here. I’ll come by during the night to collect it. Well… Good luck!”
They are gone before Jimmy can really say anything else. But it might be for the better, because he’s exhausted.
“I’m here,” he says to no one. Maybe to himself. Or maybe to his grandfather.
Going into the house is a blurr. He barely have time to register the small table with one chair, the fireplace that was lit up for him and the bed. He just melts into the mattress and passes out.
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Audiobook, ep 103 (corresponds to s1ep10)
Now eps covers the donghua's plot closely, but sometimes there are small changes, additions and expansions of scenes. This post is a copy of my thread from twitter for the archive.
Friendly reminder, I'm not a native speaker, there is also no subtitles. I'm trying my best, but I can't hear everything and probably made mistakes. Please keep in mind, I wrote it just for reference.
At the very beginning of the scene, the school bell rings, signaling the end of classes. Afterwards, the boy runs to his father and says that he got 100 points for the test, his father promised to buy him a ranger toy for this - his father says they will now go and buy it. After, the girl calls her mother and tells about how well she drew a picture during class with their family, and the teacher noted that it was drawn very well. Mom praises her. QL: Every time after school, he (Cheng Xiaoshi) saw other children being picked up by their parents, and how they returned home together. And he just stood aside and looked at them all alone, feeling envious and lonely. In order to make himself like a normal kid and to blend in with others, he tried his best, but...
Flashback
Kids playing together. Kid 1:Look at this! Kid 2:Take it! CXS:What are you playing? Can I join you? Kid:Em…
Woman:Why are you still here? Go home, go. You don’t know this kid, so why are you hanging out with strangers? Let’s go. Grandma:Nannan (girl’s name), listen to grandma, it’s time to leave. Go home. Grandpa:Don't you dare to play with him. He is a feral child! He has no parents to teach him. How can a child be so uncouth! Woman:Right! So careless, just running here and there, like a disaster
People together: - All right, all right, let’s go - Mom, go - Hurry up!
CXS:You are the feral kids! You are like a disaster, your whole family is a disaster! I don’t want to play with you!
People together: (There is some other phrases I can’t understand)
- What a disaster - At such a young age, you say such dirty words, really disgusting! - Grandma, don't listen to him, it’s so dirty - Hurry, shut your ears - Crazy! Cheng Xiaoshi starts crying.
QL: The neighbors who used to spend time together with him and the friends he played with left him one by one. He was eventually isolated, but I know how afraid of losing everyone he was.
(Here they placed a flashback that corresponded to the moment with the earthquake when CXS ran to QL’s house) QL: That was the first time, when he, who had always been stubborn, was so frightened that couldn’t put words together. Then I realized how painful it must be for him to say, "I don't want you to care about me." At that time, Qiao Ling understood - these people who came to the photo studio as soon as they heard the news about Cheng Xiaoshi's parents', just wanted to satisfy their curiosity. Their perfunctory concern may be able to hide it from others, but it couldn’t fool Cheng Xiaoshi since he was involved. Children have the purest, the sharpest eyes. These people themselves had no idea how their sarcastic words could hurt a child's heart. In the following days, Cheng Xiaoshi stopped trying to cater to others and just spent time alone in the photo studio. Sitting alone at the door of the photo studio, watching people coming and going, the liveliness was about other people, had nothing to do with him. Day by day, year by year, the photo studio was becoming more and more dilapidated. Cheng Xiaoshi also grew up gradually, but his life seemed to always have two points and one thread: from the photo studio to the school, and then from the school to the photo studio. He only had one friend, Qiao Ling, by his side.
QL: Before, I was worried whether Cheng Xiaoshi would be able to make friends who truly cared about him… Until that day. That day.
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