#But Accord is so boring I’m sorry. I liked it at first and it was the first epilogue I got but im starting to dislike it more and more

[griponthenews]

no because that meme of someone watching a streamer play their favourite game but they misunderstand it horrendously. That’s literally me with Not for Broadcast. I have yet to see a streamer play it and use like their actual brain and critical thinking skills when choosing whether to side with Advance vs Disrupt. Like the point of the game is nuance and the grey morality of both sides but these people will just assume everything Advance do is bad while supporting Disrupt without questioning any of their actions because Advance are the government and therefore automatically pure evil? Say what you will about Julia’s government, but early game Advance genuinely have some stellar policies. But every streamer I’ve seen play this game always goes fully pro-Disrupt as soon as they have the option to do so, without considering the actual good things Advance are doing at that point, like the Menu Centres or the Assets and Wealth Act. I’m not forgetting about their inexcusable actions later on in the game (if you’ve played it then you’ll know what I’m talking about), but even then that was mainly Julia’s decision rather than Advance’s (can’t remember which ending it is but there’s that tape where Peter is very clearly against what Julia did). Arguably the best epilogue of the game happens when the public is in favour of Advance over Disrupt. But because typically in dystopian fiction the rebel faction is the morally better choice I guess people assume Disrupt must be too? Despite all this the most annoyed I’ve ever been watching someone play this game was when at the end the guy said (in a roundabout way of complimenting her I guess??) that Megan’s actor did a good job at making you hate her. How someone can come out of this game hating MEGAN WOLFE of all characters is beyond me.

sorry for how incoherent and badly formatted this post is I just have to rant about Not for Broadcast or I’ll explode.

[crazy-only]

oscar finding his reporter cute ! (fluff)

pairing: oscar x fem!reader

premis: oscar helps a shy reporter during an interview and ends up crushing on her! short and sweet, fluff!

preface: posting this in honor of him getting 2nd place in austria !! good job oscar <3

you felt a tap on your shoulder and you spun around, finding a tall guy staring at you. his eyes were bored and a bit annoyed.

“um, can i help you?” you ask politely, checking your watch.

you had already interviewed the drivers that came in third and second place, and you were currently waiting on the first-placing driver to show up.

truth be told, you weren’t really qualified for the job—your sister decided to suddenly honeymoon with her wife and begged for you to replace her. hesitantly, you agreed, dying your hair to match her natural color and hoping your features were similar enough.

the young man scoffed and ran a hand over his face. “woman, you’re joking, yeah?” he asked after rolling his eyes.

honestly, you would’ve assumed this moody guy was the winner as he wore a racing suit, certainly an f1 driver with the after effects of participating in a race apparent, sweat running down his neck leading to the contour of his—

no, y/n! focus! your sister called moments ago saying the winner of the race was extremely ugly, and, according to her words, “you can’t miss him.”

and, as much as you hated to admit it, the fiesty male was far too attractive to fit your sister’s description.

“sorry, i, um, don’t follow?” you say, nervously running your fingers through your hair, microphone in the other hand.

the man looked back to face an older man sporting a mclaren hat, the former muttering something while angrily staring at you.

is this what a red flag feels like before getting torn to shreds by a bull?

“ok, lisa, you’re on air!”

you turn around rapidly at the mention of your sister’s name, searching for the driver you needed to interview.

“um,” you start shyly, looking into the scary camera. “we are still waiting on the pole position winner for the silverstone grand prix—“

there’s laughs amongst the viewers, and you cock your head trying to find their source of amusement.

“—well we are waiting on him to arrive, so sit tight while we try to find him!”

yet, to your horror, the camera stays on, the filming crew motioning for you to continue.

“hey.”

you turn to find the same utterly attractive yet rude driver staring down at you, mouth in a line and arms crossed as if he were the one that should be stressed.

“oh, you again,” you accidentally mutter into the microphone, freezing once you realized what you’ve done. except, the crowd simply laughed.

you cursed under your breath.

they’re laughing at you, y/n. you’re such a dumbass.

“yes,” the young man said sarcastically while tugging the mic towards himself, only helping to raise the volume of the laughs from the stands. “it’s me again.”

you nodded, anxiety burning in your veins, not knowing what to say. this was not as simple as your sister had said it would be.

“while we’re waiting for the grand prix winner,” oscar said, now stealing the mic completely, “why don’t i ask you some questions, reporter?”

crap!

“uh, okay,” you murmur into the mic the driver stretches towards you. for some reason your palms started getting clammy. was it your nerves?

he puts a hand on his hip and pretends to be in a deep state of thinking. “let’s start with an easy question.” he came closer so your bodies were only a pace away.

“who’s your favorite driver?”

uh oh.

“th-that would be, erm, lan?—lando!”

phew. thank god you remembered the name of the last driver you interviewed!

but the driver interviewing you walked away, suddenly a bit angry. then he ran back into frame, looking into the camera. “do you see how i’m treated around here?”

the crowds laughed, and you hid your smile.

was this the same person you met earlier? how was he so. so—so amiable?

“ok ms. reporter, next one: do you have a sister?”

“yes,” you said into the outstretched mic, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice.

then the man brushed his hand against yours just below the vision of the camera, and—was that a smile? did he just smile at you?

your breathing slowed, thankfully feeling a lot more calm.

you continued, saying, “i do. her name is y/n.”

the driver nodded, acting as if he were actually interested. “is she cute?” the man whispered into the mic.

and god, you would’ve thought this was a comedy show thanks to the immense amount of laughing if he weren’t dressed in a sweaty race suit that perfectly hugged his abdominal region and quads—

then you saw him walk slightly out of the frame, waving at you frantically. he mouthed:

ask me about the race!

good idea.

you leaned into the mic the man held, flooded by his addicting scent. “how was your race?”

“ah, thanks for asking,” he said, clearly having a talent for acting. “it was great! i’m really happy with my results. i scored a lot of points for my team, so honestly i couldn’t have asked for more.”

he went on about the technicalities and such of his car, what went wrong and right, what he should improve on; thankfully he talked until the time was out.

“well, there you have it!” you say as the camera crew gave you the cue to stop the interview.

“what’s your name, again?” you whispered to him.

at this point he just leaned into the mic. “it’s oscar piastri.” the crowd went wild, making him smile.

for some reason you got stupidly jealous.

“seems our pole position driver never showed up—“ you started saying, until the camera crew pointed towards a lit screen with words.

“but nonetheless, thank you for tuning in,” you said, and then continued reading the transcript, explaining the time and date for the next race.

once finished, the camera finally shut off, and with a big sigh, you retired your mic and made your way to your car. never again were you doing another favor for your sister.

“good job, y/n,” oscar murmured, having bent down from behind so only you could hear him. “turns out you are cute.”

fuck. how did he find out?

you swept around, hand over mouth in dread.

“oh, come on, it was obvious!” oscar said proudly. “you did not know a single thing about racing—and you look so different from your sister.”

you simply stood in shock. quietly gauging whatever despicable plan he was carrying out.

“do you still not know who i am?” he asked incredulously.

you cocked your head. “you’re a driver. what was it? osc-oscar pastry?”

he handed his heavy helmet over to you.

“there. now you’ll never forget my name again. it’s fucking piastri.” he ran his hands over his face, losing patience.

“ask me who won the race!” oscar finally said, cracking.

“um, we aren’t in the interview anymore?—“

he shook you by the arms, saying, “i won the goddamn race! i got first, y/n!”

“you’re the grand prix winner?! b-but my sister told me you were supposed to be unattractive!”

oscar raised his eyebrows, asking “is that so?” he tilted his head slightly, a cheshire cat’s smile forming.

“does that mean you find me attractive?”

uh oh.

your body was on fire, maybe more anxious than from the interview.

“since you kept staring at my body the whole interview,” oscar said as he smirked down at you, his brown eyes clearly satisfied at your shocked reaction. “take me out and i won’t tell.”

maybe you would do more of your sister’s favors.

[calcifiedunderland]

Part I (here), Part II, Part III (COMPLETED)

Trey Clover vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Jamil Viper x GN! Reader

In which the way to the Prefect’s heart is through their stomach! At least, according to three of NRC’s students…

I got the idea from @recreyomakesdoodles , from this post! Thank you so much, hope you liked it!!💕

Tagging people I think would be interested: @aruis4nosleep , @tinseltina

Warnings: food/eating

Notes: I decided to split this into multiple parts because I never have any restraint while writing and this ended up being long. Enjoy :D

———————————————————♣️🐙🐍

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Azul pushed his glasses up, balancing a stack of takeout boxes emblazoned with the Mostro Lounge logo on them. Cold blue eyes met Trey’s golden irises. Trey cleared his throat, shifting a heavy picnic basket from one hand to the other. “What brings you here, Azul? I thought you’d be busy at Mostro Lounge…”

Azul snorted, “the Prefect knows to expect me today. Clearly, you are the one intruding.” Earlier that week, he overheard you wailing to your friends about your upcoming History of Magic exam. Apparently, this unit was on Atlantica’s magical history - a topic that was, unfortunately, giving you trouble.

Fortunately, Azul was a mer who grew up learning the history by heart. Naturally he offered you assistance in exchange for having you taste-test some dishes. And how could he not help a poor, unfortunate fellow student like yourself?

Besides, if he wanted to bring along some personally cooked meals to Ramshackle, under the claim that you both would be there ‘for hours, so you may as well try some foods (that I made!) for the upcoming Lounge menu (that I run)!’, that was nobody’s business. And certainly not Clover’s business.

Trey crossed his arms, easily holding the heavy picnic basket like it weighed nothing. Azul could smell the buttery pastries and powdered sugar through the closed basket lid where he stood. “Riddle sent me to give the Prefect an invitation to the next Unbirthday Party. I thought I’d give them some treats to… sweeten the deal.” Though Trey had a disarmingly pleasant smile with the pun, his eyes bored into Azul’s.

Azul frowned. “That couldn’t have been more than a simple text. Aren’t they friends with your first years, as well?” He asked, remembering your first year friends that he’d turned into anemones.

Trey adjusted his glasses and averted his gaze, a telltale deflection sign that Azul didn’t miss. “Well, it’s more official coming from the Vice Housewarden.” “And I suppose the baked goods are complimentary?” Azul sniffed disdainfully at the basket, “Surely, the prefect needs more than pastries. A proper meal,” he emphasized.

Trey’s eyes narrowed, “a basket of baked goods is better than whatever deal you’d have for them,” he nodded to the boxes Azul carried. “Everyone loves a good old fashioned pastry. Can’t say the same for seafood.” Azul opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly both of their ringtones went off.

IM SO SORRY AZUL!!!!! I got caught up with something, can I come over tomorrow?? I likely won’t be done until later, the headmage has me doing stuff 😭

TREY!!! Tysm for the invite, you didn’t have to go out of ur way to give it in person!! ill definitely be there at the party! 😄 sry I’m not there atm, Crowley wanted me to do something for him

Trey frowned, reading your text. Azul huffed, shouldering the stack of food boxes, muttering “looks like today was a loss.” Trey sighed, “well, it can’t be helped…” he made a mental note to put the pastries in the Heartslabyul fridge and just deliver it to you tomorrow, under the guise of ‘checking up on you’ after working for Crowley. The two of them trudged down the path to the Hall of Mirrors, heading back to their dorms.

The two of them walked in silence until Trey abruptly said, “I don’t know what you want with the Prefect, but I hope you have their best intentions at heart.” Azul turned to give Trey a withering look, “I assure you, when it comes to the Prefect, I have nothing but good intentions.” As he stepped into Octavinelle, Azul smirked and muttered, “especially regarding their heart.” Trey lingered for a bit, staring at the Octavinelle mirror with an unreadable expression. “We’ll see about that,” he said aloud in the empty Hall, then headed back to Heartslabyul.

—•—♣️🐙🐍—•—

Meanwhile, you sighed heavily, collapsing onto the chair. The cafeteria was pretty much empty, save for the random student or two. It was already darkening outside, and you were hungry. Crowley wanted you to do something for him just before lunch, and soon half your Saturday was gone running around NRC. You’d even lost track of time, and missed Azul’s study session and Trey dropping in! You groaned, hearing your stomach growl loudly.

“Prefect? What are you doing here?”

You glanced up, seeing Jamil with a large container of tupperware and other small containers. The delicious scent of curries, labneh yogurt cheese, and freshly made pita made your mouth water. Despite yourself, Jamil caught you looking at the boxed-up food more than once.

“…Crowley had me running errands, and I may have skipped lunch…” your voice grew quiet near the end. Jamil raised an eyebrow, then smiled. “I actually ended up making too much food for Kalim,” he said, moving around the table to sit next to you. “There’s enough for an extra person, and I’ve have already eaten.”

Your eyes widened, and Jamil started dishing out some curry and flatbread for you. Bright-colored curry sauce and chickpeas flooded the platter, wafting a delicious scent. As Jamil ripped a piece of pita, your stomach growl loudly. Your face felt warm. Jamil only chuckled, pushing the plate he’d conjured towards you. “What about Kalim?” You asked, feeling bad. Jamil smiled, “Please, go ahead. There’s enough for Kalim and you.” A warm smile grew on your face, and you gave Jamil a one-sided hug before digging in. “Thank you! You’re my savior!”

As he watched you eat, a tender look grew on Jamil’s face. He shifted the food containers so he could watch you while nibbling on some flatbread. It wasn’t difficult to determine that you were off on Crowley’s whims again - with you running around the school and being gone for several hours. With that in mind, it wouldn’t be anyone’s fault if he accidentally made too much food, so he thought he’d drop it off at Ramshackle later. It was sheer luck that you’d dropped by the cafeteria!

You hummed, soaking up some of the leftover curry sauce with your flatbread, “this was delicious, Jamil. Thank you so much.”

Jamil smiled genuinely, but a devious look came into his eyes when you looked back at your plate. “Please, Prefect, allow me. Wait here.” He took the plate, going to the kitchens to box up some food for you to take back. Walking back to you, he handed you the container, “It’s getting late, I can walk you back to Ramshackle.”

The two of you set off, with you holding some of Jamil’s boxes. “This was… really sweet of you, Jamil,” you smiled. You knew Jamil always had his hands full, whether it was taking care of Kalim or managing literally everything else. Maybe the food was making you gush, but you were definitely grateful for the impromptu meal. As you opened the door to Ramshackle, you gingerly handed the boxes back to him.

“Ah, wait,” he shuffled them and held a large one out to you. “This one is yours.” Your eyes widened, “Jamil, this is a lot-“ “Please.” Your eyes met his dark grey irises, and warm gratitude filled your chest. “Jamil, I… I really don’t know what to say. I have to repay you somehow-“ Now that was what he wanted to hear.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to try making some new dishes,” he glanced at you. “I’ve been needing someone to taste test them, and Kalim won’t be available…” You nodded eagerly, “Of course! I’d love to help you!” You said your goodbyes, and as the door shut behind you, Jamil had a calculating smirk on his face. Oh yeah, it’s all coming together.

————————————————————♣️🐙🐍

Thanks for being patient everyone!! Hope you enjoyed this part, reblogs and comments are forever appreciated 💕

lmk if anyone wants to be added to the taglist! Take care shrimpies~ 😘

[thebigbiwolf]

Spittle - Part 2/2 (Astarion/F!Reader)

Summary: The chocolate seems innocent enough - if you look past the Infernal writing on the wrapper, and with so few pleasures in the wilderness, you all but jump at the chance to sneak yourself a small treat.

Unbeknownst to you, the bar is infused with succubus spittle. Just one square is rumored to contain enough potency to send a mortal into the throes of ecstasy.

This is what happens when you eat half the bar.

Fic Tags: Sex Pollen (kinda), aphrodisiacs, a bit of dom!Astarion, unprotected piv, overstimulation, he talks you through it (iykyk),

Fic Warnings: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Language, No use of Y/N, magical influence

Read Part 1: Here

Read on AO3: Here

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Wow. I'll try to make this brief. First of all, I just want to say thank you all so much for your continued support. I know this took me forever to write, but I've been going through a lot of emotional turmoil with school and some health issues with my animals. Your patience means so much to me, and I can only hope this lives up to everyone's expectations! This is my first time writing smut, and ngl I feel a bit like Icarus, so let me know if y'all liked it. Last, but not least, thanks again to my bestie/beta @imaginarydromedary for holding my hand through the shame.

Astarion sits quietly beside the fire, absently picking the dirt from beneath his manicured nails. The night had unfolded like countless others before it: boring, mundane. Uneventful.

Perhaps he should retire early. The Realm According to Bumpo sits patiently atop the desk in his tent, and if he heads to bed now, he could potentially finish a chapter before his watch begins.

He stands, patting the dust off his trousers, just as Shadowheart emerges from your tent. He initially doesn’t pay her any mind - fails to notice the concern etched across her face. 

“Astarion.” 

He snaps to attention, recognizing the fear in her voice.

Astarion’s stomach sinks when their eyes meet. Shadowheart isn’t normally one to succumb to panic, but she looks as though she’s just stumbled out of a wolf’s den.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. She - I’ve never seen…” Shadowheart pauses, taking a steadying breath. “She’s feverish. She was fine only hours ago. I heard a cry from her tent and feared something was amiss. When I found her, she…” The cleric hesitates, eyes contemplative - as if weighing exactly how much she wants to reveal. 

“Out with it, damn it!”

“Is there any chance she’s been poisoned? You two stayed behind, back in the village. Did she come into contact with anything that might have pierced her skin?”

“Poisoned? No, she -” Astarion retraces the events, turning over your brief conversations in his head before landing on the only noteworthy detail he can think of.

He taps a finger on his chin, a thoughtful smile creasing his face. “Unless, of course, the Infernal chocolates didn’t agree with her.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” 

“The chocolate she found at the apothecary. I assumed she hid it away so she could enjoy her little treat, unbothered. There was Infernal text on the wrapper.”

She stares at him with wide eyes, jaw slack with disbelief. “And you didn’t think to mention this earlier?”

Astarion shrugs, unfazed.

“Where’s Wyll?”

He rolls his eyes. “How should I know? I’m not his keeper.”

“Astarion!” 

“Oh, come on. That chocolate must have been at least a decade old. Are you certain this isn’t just some sort of stomach bug?”

The cleric shoves past him, groaning in exasperation. She shoots him a glare and mutters, “I’m certain,” before jogging in the direction of Wyll’s tent. 

“Infused with succubus spittle. Just one bite will have you and that special someone rolling around for hours. Consume responsibly." 

Astarion giggles boyishly. “An aphrodisiac? How fun.”

Wyll squints as he silently reads the next bit to himself, fingers tracing the text. He turns to Shadowheart, jaw tightening, "How much of this did you say she ingested?"

"I only found half the bar."

Wyll’s expression grows more serious. "This says the recommended serving size is one square… How many squares were left?"

“Oh, gods…” she breathes, "Six."

The three exchange silent, worried glances.

“Could she die from this?” Shadowheart asks, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Wyll’s lips press into a thin line. In truth, he doesn’t know the answer. He could ask Mizora for guidance, but the devil’s been awfully silent after his recent failures. He isn’t sure she'd be willing to answer him, let alone grant any favors. Still, it may be worth a call.

Just as Wyll’s about to suggest it, Astarion heaves a deep, dramatic sigh, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, I know what we’re all thinking. I’ll take care of this.”

The other two regard each other, thoroughly confused.

“Look," Astarion explains, I may not be well-versed in magic, or magical remedies, for that matter, but now that we know what’s causing this… I think it’s obvious what needs to be done.”

“You’re joking.” Shadowheart laughs, incredulously.  

“No,” he continues, “We can’t just sit here and hope for the best. We need to act quickly, and let's just say, this fits into my... skill set.”

“So, you’re going to, what? Have sex with her? You think she’ll be capable of saying anything but yes, given the state she’s in?”

Astarion shoots her a glare. The mere thought that he’d ever so much as suggest doing something like that - bedding you when you’re too weak to reject him - the very idea of it makes him sick. 

He isn’t that evil. 

“Watch your tongue,” he spits at her, “before I do us all the favor of removing it.”

“Hang on, you two,” Wyll interjects, “Astarion, I think you might have a point. You would know better than anyone whether she’s in a right enough state of mind to… consent to this. You’re closest to her. She trusts you.” 

He turns to Shadowheart, “It’s worth a try.”

Astarion notices two things as he pulls back the flap of your tent.

The first is that it is unseasonably warm. Scorching hot, like summer. A stark contrast from the welcoming cool of the early spring night behind him. 

And second, that the air in the tent is heavy - heady with the scent of sweat and something else he can’t quite identify. It's clouding his senses, making his head swim. The taste of it settles on his tongue, like salt on the rim of an otherwise very sweet drink.

The moonlight at his back casts a dark shadow over your sleeping form. Astarion hesitates for a moment, taking in the sight of you, vulnerable and oblivious to his presence, feeling too much like a wolf looming over a snared rabbit.

You twitch, grimacing in pain. 

He frowns. This wasn’t the way he wanted to go about seducing you. His plan was much more sophisticated: a carafe of wine, a few honeyed words leading to a night of passion, your endless thanks, all culminating in some well-earned release and his assured protection.

A mutual exchange.

But, this?

He’s roused from his thoughts by another grunt, escaping from between your clenched teeth.

Whatever you’re going through, it looks like hell.

Ugh. You know what? Fine. Maybe this isn’t the way he envisioned it, but when has life ever blessed him with a perfect scenario? He’ll offer his… services, and respect whatever answer you give him. If you refuse him now, he can always try again later. Under less perilous circumstances, provided you survive the night.

And if not, well, he's never been one to play the hero, but at least he tried. 

He steps further inside, closing the entrance behind him. The moment he seals the tent shut, there is a palpable shift. The space feels infinitely heavier, laden with unnatural energy, reminiscent of anticipation, but just slightly… off.

He breathes, trying to focus on anything but that intoxicating scent. The haze of it is maddening.

The elf sits on his knees beside you, hands resting in his lap. 

He clears his throat, hoping the sound would be enough to wake you.

There’s no response. 

He whispers your name.

Nothing.

No choice, then.

He drums a finger against your bare arm.

The cleric was right. Your skin is so hot, it borders on scalding.

Finally, you begin to stir.

-

Again. It happened again. 

As soon as you closed your eyes to rest, you saw him - That thing that wore his skin. You felt his hands and mouth as he ravaged you until you fell apart beneath him, above him, wrapped around him, like he was everywhere all at once. 

He was demanding as he took pleasure from you. Ravenous. Mocking your cries, your begging.

The hours stretched into what felt like lifetimes, and you’d nearly given up hope, resigning yourself to the idea that this was your new, endless reality. 

Until suddenly, you hear a voice that pulls you from the dark recesses of your subconscious-- the very voice being used to torture you

Your name, uttered quietly by Astarion. Just Astarion. No second, more sinister layer beneath it.

Your eyelids flutter, then widen as a chilling realization washes over you. 

He’s touching you. The pads of his fingers are both a balm and an irritant, soothing and igniting the flames licking at the corners of your mind.

“You look like you’ve seen better days.” He teases. 

You recoil from his touch, sitting upwards and crawling back away from him. 

He can’t be here. He, of all people, can’t be here.

And yet, something within you is screeching in delight.

'That’s him, isn’t it? The object of your desires? How fun!’

You swallow. Hard. 

“Astarion, I -” 

He holds up a hand, silencing you. “I’m aware.”

“Shadowheart informed us of your… predicament,” he continues, “I can’t help but feel partly responsible, seeing as I was there when you found the chocolate -”

“The chocolate? Is that - wait, what?” 

Shit. Your head is pounding. 

You press your palms against your eyes and groan. 

“I’ll spare you the details, but that chocolate was laced with succubus spittle - a highly potent aphrodisiac - and you, my dear, have consumed enough to bring an entire brothel to its knees.”

Your eyes snap open, meeting his own. There isn’t an ounce of humor in his tone. No sign of his usual mischief.

Gods, he’s being fucking serious.

“Now, as amusing as this might be if it were anyone else, I’d prefer it if our party’s leader made it out of this alive, and that leaves us with a choice."

You gaze at him silently, waiting as the candlelight paints his sharp features in warm hues of amber and honey. 

'He’s quite handsome. I see why you like him.’

“You can ride this out alone,” Astarion explains, “Shadowheart will return with her best salves and more potions for the fever. We’ll hope this passes quickly, but Wyll’s translation suggests the amount you consumed could leave you in this state for up to a week.”

Your stomach churns. You’re going to be sick.

“And the alternative?” you manage to ask.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining with your own. Your skin prickles at the contact.

“The alternative is that you let me help you through this. Consider it a repayment, of sorts, for gifting me your blood. I’m somewhat of an expert on… well,” he lets out a humorless laugh, “let’s just say, I’m the best chance you’ve got.”

Maybe it's the blood roaring in your ears, or maybe you’re still dreaming, but it sounds like Astarion is offering to… fuck you?

“I’m sorry, what?”

He groans, visibly frustrated. “Sex, my dear. If the magic is compelling you to have it, I think we should listen.”

‘Handsome and smart.’ 

You hiss, “Would you please shut up?”

Astarion squints. “What was that?”

“Nothing, sorry.” You clear your throat. “Listen, I - I get what you’re trying to do. I appreciate it, really, but -” 

Pain lances through your abdomen, a sharp, icy shard that interrupts your words. You clutch at your side, releasing Astarion’s hand before falling helplessly on your back, twisting in agony.

He inches closer, voice tinged with urgency. “We’re running out of time. If you want my help, it's best to ask now, because as much as I love the idea of you begging for me to bed you, I won’t be comfortable doing this unless you agree to this while you’ve still got your wits about you.” 

Tears sting the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision at the edges. He’s right. You don’t think you can endure this alone, and as much as you fucking hate to admit it, the damned succubus magic - that thing - is right.  

You do desire him. You’ve wanted him since the moment you met beside the nautiloid. Now here he is, offering to alleviate your suffering.  

There’s just one part of his offer that you can’t quite come to terms with.

“I didn’t let you drink from me because I was hoping you’d repay me.” Your voice warbles, wet and stressed, “I can’t have sex with you if it’ll just be part of some ridiculous transaction. Not with anyone, and certainly not with you.” 

His expression softens as your words sink in. It’s a confession, of sorts. The kind he’s wholly unfamiliar with. It stuns him almost to the point of speechlessness.  

“My apologies. Believe me, it was more of an excuse than anything. I didn’t mean to suggest…” He lets his words trail off, shaking his head. You two can revisit this conversation later, when time isn’t of the essence. “It doesn’t matter. I want to do this. Let me help you.” 

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver up your spine.

It’s clear he means this.

He means every word. 

You nod. “Okay.”

Astarion clears his throat, rolling the tension off his shoulders. 

“Good. Now that we’ve got that taken care of,” he says as he throws one of his legs over your waist, straddling you, “Why don’t you lie back and let me take care of this, hm?” 

His posture is relaxed. Confident. He regards you with hooded eyes and the faintest hint of a smirk. It’s quite the sight, one you’d enjoy significantly more if your body wasn’t busy screaming for his attention. 

His deft hands make quick work of the laces of your shirt, and with every string that loosens, your composure unravels further. You squirm, unable to resist the heat that teases your skin and the growing itch beneath it. 

As if Astarion can sense your rising panic, he places a cool palm against your burning cheek, his touch both gentle and practiced as he rubs smooth circles at the dip of your temple. 

“Relax, dear,” he whispers, both a request and a command. The gentle lilt in his voice masks the underlying authority, but your body obeys all the same, tension releasing from your muscles. “I’ve got you.”

Astarion quickly rids you of the offending fabric, chest and stomach now bared to him. His eyes scan over your form with focused intensity, lips pinched between his teeth, like an artist deciding what to make of their blank canvas.

“Normally, I’d take my time with this,” he admits, “but given the circumstances…” He swiftly undoes the buttons of your trousers before yanking them off along with your smallclothes. One single, fluid motion. 

He can’t hide the mild shock that follows when he sees the state of you - dripping wet, red and pulsing with need. 

He dips the tip of his finger between your folds. It glides over velvet skin, coating the digit in warm, wet slick. A strangled, pitiful noise escapes from your throat.

For a moment, Astarion’s calculated expression falters, surprised by the rate at which your body opens itself up to him. A glint of hunger lurks beneath the surface.

“This may be easier than I thought.” He says with a smirk, more to himself than to you. 

He presses two digits in, slow and intentional. There’s no resistance; A knife through warm butter. You’re dripping down his knuckles, gripping around him like a vice. He slides all the way in until the heel of his palm meets your clit. 

“Breathe.” 

Not even realizing you’d been holding your breath, you release it with a shutter.

“Very good.” He punctuates his words with the slow drag of his fingers. Long, languid movements. He’s taking his sweet time with you, pulling scandalous little cries from your lips. It’s like he’s toying with you - seeing how long you can hold out before breaking. 

It doesn’t take much time at all.

“Astarion -”

“Yes?”

“Please.”

“Please, what? What do you need, darling?” His eyes are fixed on your own, grin tugging at the edge of his mouth. A cat playing with a cornered mouse.

“More. Anything.” 

He hums in approval, then wets the pad of his thumb on his tongue before drawing circles exactly where you need. Heat coils at the base of your spine, forming a ball of tension that threatens to snap. 

The sheer intensity of it is enough to scare you, caught between the urge to chase the sensation or flee from it. “Astarion, I -” 

He ignores your warning as if he hadn’t heard it, plunging his fingers into your heat and curling them - expertly caressing a spot that threatens to shatter you. Your hands fly out, gripping the fabric of his shirt, the sheets beneath you, anything in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.

“Go on, love. Let it out. I’ve got you.” 

Your body seizes as your orgasm tears through you, igniting every one of your oversensitive nerves. Back arching off the bedroll, several strangled sounds - almost pained - rip from your throat. The pleasure threatens to tear you apart, but the thick fog of lust occupying your mind begins to subside, offering the slightest bit of clarity as you twitch beneath him. 

Astarion grabs you by the jaw, tilting your head this way and that, admiring his handiwork. He's quite pleased with himself, with the mess he's made of you - jaw slack and brows pinched. He coaxes out the aftershocks, watching you squeeze around his fingers.

"There,” he gives you a playful pat on the cheek, "You're looking better already." 

"You're - agh - enjoying this too much."

"I never said I wasn't going to enjoy it." 

A beat of silence passes between the two of you as he allows you to catch your breath. For a moment, you think the coast is clear - that maybe, this was as far as things had to go. This was what the magic was compelling you to do, or at the very least - it was close enough. You fulfilled its wishes. Surely.

But then he pulls out of you, and the second you feel the vacuum of emptiness where his fingers once were, that voice in your head is screeching like some sort of petulant child. It pouts, waggling its non-existent finger in your direction. The demanding bitch. 

Part of you, instinctually, realizes that this is just the beginning - that you’re simply at the edge of the shore watching the tides recede while a devastating wave builds somewhere in the distance. 

“What is it? Does it still hurt?” Astarion asks, breaking the silence, and you realize that no, it doesn’t. Not like before, at least. 

You shake your head.

“Good. I’d wager that means this is working.” He smiles triumphantly, working the laces of his own clothes, and ridding himself of the final layers between you, revealing an intricate network of muscle beneath. For a man who’d supposedly been starved for the last two centuries, he certainly doesn’t look the part.

Astarion nudges your legs apart with his thigh, then settles between your knees, dragging the head of his cock between your folds. He hums in approval, admiring the sight as he coats himself in your slick. It practically drools out of you.

There’s no resistance when he dips himself into your entrance. 

His eyes scan over your face, searching for any discomfort, but all he finds is need. 

So, he presses in further. 

“Shit, you -” 

He hisses, sucking in a sharp breath as he bottoms out, then takes a moment, eyes pinched shut, collecting himself. 

He slides out, just an inch or so, before plunging back in, buried as deeply as he can reach. It’s so damn easy, the sinfully wet mess you’ve left all over his cock allowing him to glide in and out, tilting his hips with each thrust.

The stretch of him is perfect, like you were made for this - made to take him. His length rubbing and dragging against your walls acts like a balm, relaxing your body as you swallow and grip him in scorching heat. 

He grabs one of your thighs, pressing it into your chest - the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper into your core.

It isn’t long before you’re begging him for more, digging your heels into the curve of his back.

Astarion starts pounding into you - a new, brutal pace spurred on by your encouragement and the wet, filthy slap of his skin against yours. The sounds reverberate off the canvas of your tent, blending with your choked sobs. You just know your companions are going to have something to say about this in the morning, but you honestly can’t bring yourself to care. 

The only thing that matters now is the man above you - his nails digging into the flesh of your ass, whispering how good you feel. How well you’re taking him, “Like you were made for this - for me.” His grunts are like music to your ears, drowning out all other thoughts as his chest vibrates against your own.

It’s all too much. 

Your orgasm sneaks up on you before you have a chance to warn him, but he feels the way you flutter around his cock and acts on instinct - snaking his fingers between your bodies and rubbing your clit in quick circles. 

You throw your head back with a cry, shaking beneath him, and grip him like a vice as you come. The force of it slams into you, hot and devastating, tightening every muscle within its wake. You wind your limbs tightly around the hard planes of Astarion’s body as he rolls his hips into you, slow and deep. 

You can feel him twitching inside you, his rhythm suddenly stuttering with each thrust. Something tells you he’d come now, if you’d allow him.

But where?

'Where else?'

The very idea of him not spilling every drop he has inside of you disturbs you nearly to the point of panic, and with that, you finally understand what this damned succubus has been demanding of you this entire time.

“Astarion, please. I need you.” 

“Where?” he asks, voice muffled, panting hot and open-mouthed against the swell of your shoulder.

“Inside,” you beg, “Please. Please -  It’s alright.” 

He shudders, surging up into you one last time with a strangled grunt. Holding onto your hips, he pulses within you, the warmth of his release filling you to the brim, until a thick white ring of come forms at the base of his length. You can’t help but clench around him, moving to match his previous pace and trying desperately to wring as much out of him as you can, until it begins to seep out onto the sheets beneath you.

It isn’t until he stills inside of you that you release your hold on him. The two of you take a minute to collect yourselves, waiting for your heart to settle and listening to Astarion’s ragged breaths. 

He lifts his weight off of you with a grunt, settling back on his knees. 

“That was - agh,” he shivers as he pulls out of you. You don’t even want to look at the mess.

“I’m going to have to burn these sheets, aren’t I?” you ask, sitting up on your shoulders.

He throws his head back with a genuine, hearty laugh, and cards his fingers through his dampened hair. 

This is the most relaxed you think you’ve ever seen him - not a scowl line in sight. He rolls his shoulders, and sighs at the subsequent pop before turning his focus back on you.

“I’ll have you know,” Astarion muses, “I’ve done this more times than I can count— but this, my dear,” he chuckles, “This was one for the books.”

“So, was sleeping with me everything you could have possibly imagined?” It’s an obvious joke, given your tone. An offer to squash any chance of this happening again, should he wish to. An exit. 

He hums playfully. “Well, next time I think I’d prefer the subtle influence of wine over a mind-altering aphrodisiac, if it's all the same to you.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Did he just offer to do this again? Well, not exactly, but -

“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asks. 

Better, is the honest answer. Slightly confused and deeply embarrassed, but better. 

The apologies you’ll have to make after the night’s over seem endless, both to him and to Shadowheart for all the trouble you caused. Not to mention the others, who’ve probably had the sound of your squealing burned into their memories forever. The idea of it is daunting.

“Because if you’re still reeling from any nasty, lingering effects,” he continues, “I’m sure I could be… persuaded to help again.”

Oh.

Hm.

“Well, now that you mention it…”

-

Tag List (sorry if I missed anyone! I only added you if you explicitly asked to be tagged): @daedriclys @captain039 @sushiumex @sugasweettea @marauders-moon @starlightelegy @ablxssm @the-lake-is-calling

[world0fmadness]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ FIRE AND ICE

kimi raikkonen x cky / jackass member! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter x ( platonic! ) oc son

featuring: a daughter called tilly because it’s just such a pretty name and some dico and rake slander

faceclaim: assorted but mainly lucy liu

୨୧ okay so the timeline on this one is a little messy but please just deal with it <3 i imagine they met when they were around 21, had their daughter when they were around 28 and married when they were around 30… so their daughter is around 16 years old… is that messy? a lot of this is from the pov of their daughter and fan accounts since social media wasn’t really a thing in the early 2000’s and stuff…

reading music recommendations: lost in a contraption by cky - along comes mary by bloodhound gang - your sweet 666 by him

loveuyn: thinking about how in an old interview yn said she was going to keep her first ever car so it can be her future child’s first car and now tilly has it and absolutely loves it 🥹 photos from tilly’s social media

ckylvr: it’s so crazy seeing her drive the car that was featured in SO much of the early cky stuff 💔 every time i see her post it i do the leonardo dicaprio point like “ oh! that’s the car bam jumped off while it sped down a road ”

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

ynlnstomponme: i hope yn cleaned it REALLY good lmao… the amount of times people have been caught on video vomiting in it is genuinely nuts

> loveuyn: not to mention the blood lmao 😭

> ynlnsbackhand: if that car could talk…

> loveuyn: if that car could talk it’d be taking yn to court straight away for pain and suffering

tillyraikkonenln: the best part about being a late 2000’s baby is you get all your parents cool vintage stuff :D

ynraikkonenln ✔️: you’re grounded for a year

> tillyraikkonenln: i’m sorry mom :(

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

> iluvf1: teens calling stuff their parents used when THEY were teens “vintage” just to annoy them is so funny to me

> loveuyn: crying rn, the time tilly was on live and someone commented to ask yn and kimi about AOL “ what the hell is AOL”… and yn immediately giving her a whole history on how she used to flirt with boys in her school over AOL while kimi and tilly just watched her ramble from the side

> oldf1lvr: she needed to educate her baby on the old ways real quick 😭

> kimicelover: kimi had SO MUCH love in his eyes on that livestream… i want what they have

oldf1lvr: tilly, who’s your favourite grid uncle?

> tillyraikkonenln: seb!

> sebastianvettel ✔️: the greatest medal of honour! thank you tilly, come visit soon - sebastian ❤️

> lewishamilton ✔️: what at am i? chopped liver?

> tillyraikkonenln: sorry uncle lew :3

❤️ liked by lewishamilton

> jackass4ever: favourite jackass uncle?

> tillyraikkonenln: CHRIS! definitely chris

❤️ liked by chrispontious

> chrispontious ✔️: thank you very much tilly, always knew you were smarter than your mother

> ynraikkonenln ✔️: get lost 🙄

ckylvr: the amount of HIM and CKY pin badges you can spot in that pile 💔 take me backkkk

jackass4ever: what’s the nastiest thing your mom did on cky? in your opinion…

> tillyraikkonenln: kissed dico and rake 😟

loveuyn: yn’s grid milf fashion highlight ❤️

tillyraikkonenln: i don’t think i’ll ever get used to people calling my mother a milf :(

> iluvf1: lmao poor tilly 😭

oldf1lvr: kimi in the third picture in a boring ass button up and jeans… i hate m*n

> ynlnsbackhand: she’s EVERYTHING, he’s just ken

iluvf1: i miss seeing her interact with fans in the paddock so much, bring our mom back 💔

> tillyraikkonenln: she misses interacting with people in the paddock! they’ll visit soon, her and dad have just been busy with KJ ❤️

> new2f1: KJ? who is that?

> oldf1lvr: it’s their son! they haven’t revealed his name or anything yet since he’s only 5 so they call him KJ because according to yn he’s a double of kimi

> iluvf1: kimi’s genes are incredible because tilly looks EXACTLY like him too 😭

> loveuyn: she’s a double of kimi look wise but has the exact same personality as yn

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

loveuyn: gentle reminder of these adorable pictures yn posted when she was pregnant with KJ ( and the only pictures we have of him so far )

ynlnsbackhand: her comfy mom era was her best era, fight me

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

oldf1lvr: baby KJ 🥹 you can’t even see his face but you can tell he totally IS a copy of kimi

kimicelover: i wonder if KJ will be the future racer, since tilly is more into skateboarding and photography?

❤️ liked by tillyraikkonenln

> iluvf1: maybe! but is the grid really prepared for another iceman 🫣

jackass4ever: i love how whenever she’s in the jackass movies she’s still a total hardass but the second it comes to her babies she just crumbles 🥹

> kimicelover: it’s the same with kimi! he’s still ice cold to most people but the second he sees tilly, KJ or yn he just melts and there’s SO much video evidence of it 💔

ynraikkonenln: my little girl helping me and kimi celebrate our anniversary by cooking dinner for us ❤️

tillyraikkonenln: i burned literally everything… and i’m not a little girl anymore, i’m 16 :(

> kimiraikkonen ✔️: we’re still grateful and you’ll always be our little girl kulta 💙

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and tillyraikkonenln

> tillyraikkonenln: oh and did you have to include that picture of me washing up?

> kimiraikkonen ✔️: yes, she did, it’s pretty unbelievable for a teen so we need people to see photo evidence

loveuyn: yn ln… then and now 🥹

tillyraikkonenln: black and white filter on the first pictures made me think my own mother was dead for a second…

> loveuyn: sorry tilly 😭

iluvf1: goddamn, this woman has aged like fine wine…

ynlnsbackhand: just me who thinks she’s got hotter with age?

> oldf1lvr: definitely not just you…

> kimicelover: kimi too though… they’re both so hot as older people… i want them BOTH so bad 😭

jackass4ever: genuinely HOW is this the woman that let dico pee on her in her sleep and only hit him with a belt after?

> oldf1lvr: sorry WHAT?

> loveuyn: the iceland incident…

> ynlnsbackhand: at least ryan got back at him properly for her

> ynlnslighter: those belt whips she gave dico were fucking crazy what do you mean 😭

> ynlnsbackhand: HE PISSED ON HER

> ckylvr: everyone was pissing on each other in iceland, wtf was in the air over there?

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

her parents are in love… gross

tillyraikkonenln: sigh… my parents are still SO in love even after like… 60 years… nasty

kimiraikkonen ✔️: cheeky girl… thank you for taking these pictures kulta 💙

> tillyraikkonenln: wonder who i get that from… you’re welcome isä <3

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

ynraikkonenln ✔️: 60 YEARS? you’re pushing your luck missy… love you

❤️ liked by kimiraikkonen and tillyraikkonenln

kimiynlover: if i don’t ever have a love like theirs i have failed at life 💔

sebastianvettel ✔️: KJ is getting big! sending my love ❤️ - sebastian

❤️ liked by ynraikkonenln, tillyraikkonenln and kimiraikkonen

[helluvapoison]

You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.

Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.

The Rat King.

Soon you would meet…

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain

• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close

• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before

“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”

“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”

• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something

• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue

• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put

• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”

Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.

Your smile faded.

“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“

Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.

• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.

No, it was worse.

Vulnerable.

“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.

Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.

A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”

“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”

• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?

• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.

“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.

He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.

• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.

Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!

“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“

“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”

• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.

“You’re welcome to come back?”

He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”

A smile of your own began to spread.

“I also dabble in conversation.”

_

(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)

[space-matt]

Could I request a Matt x reader.They have been dating for a while but the reader has never left that honey moon stage.One day Matt is not having a good day and the readers presence make him on edge.He ends up blowing up on her calling her overbearing and clingy.Things shift and she becomes more distant,for a while he feels ok but he starts to miss the relationship they way it was before.when he tries to talk to the reader she cries to him about the whole situation.He is really sorry and does his best to make it up to her.

I’ll make it up to you 

matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: It's really true that you understand the value of things when you lose them.. Matt figured it out too late, but will he be able to make up for it?

request: yes 

author’s note: thank u so much for the request!! I hope you’ll enjoy it ♡ I added the song that helped me to write it. For everything I’m here!

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

English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

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

revised

Still lying in bed you feel the heat coming from the window left half open in Matt’s room, with your eyes closed you stretch by turning to the other side meeting a boulder of a blanket, you reach out your hand in search of your favorite person but to your surprise, your hand leans on the mattress, so you open your eyes trying to focus and notice that half of the bed is empty.

You've been together for seven months and thirteen days now, and you have to say that they are the best months of your life; Having never had previous relationships, it can be said that Matt is your first true and actual relationship in your 20 years of life. 

Everything had started as a pure joke between you two to make fun of Chris and his girlfriend Maddy, but the more time passed, the more you began to feel real feelings towards the boy who unlike you had liked you for a long time, but for fear of being considered only and solely a friend, he wanted to avoid putting his heart in the foreground and listening to the rational part of his brain. 

But fate wanted that one evening while you were saying goodbye to go to your own house, the moment you were about to press a kiss against his cheek, Matt turned earlier than expected causing your lips to collide, making you immediately move away but when you stopped to look into his eyes you saw in both of them a spark to burst a breathless kiss.

It must be said, from that moment you have been together, indeed perhaps precisely because it is your first relationship that you try to always make everything go for the best unlike Matt who still had his first relationships during his adolescence that, however, according to him, ''they can't compete with you''. Of course, it scares you that sooner or later it may get bored or otherwise lose interest in you, but you still try to eliminate this thought and be the best girlfriend in the world. 

So you get out of bed by completely opening the window so that the room can change air, leaving the bed undone; Take your change in the drawer that Matt has free so that you can put some of your things when you stay at his house to sleep, and you head to the next bathroom without noticing who is in the open space connected by a small corridor to his room.

Meanwhile Matt was lying on the sofa, the TV turned on in the background, with the phone in his hand looking at the various social networks but his mind was elsewhere, indeed the day had started in the wrong direction.

All night you did nothing but stay attached to him not making him move, which didn't make him sleep a wink and that's why he was quite nervous.

His brothers were still in their respective rooms changing, as they would then be out all day under your precise instructions, as you wanted to spend a day entirely with Matt before leaving for spring break in two weeks. 

When Nick and Chris find themselves in the living room ready to go out, Matt pulls up his head ''Do we have any meetings today?'' He asks confused getting up and putting the phone in his pocket ''The two of us yes, you have the day off today.. enjoy it'' Chris replies with a grin on his face which vanishes when he hears a puff from him ''Wow I didn't expect all this enthusiasm '' exclaims ironic Nick going to the door of the house ''Please let me come with you, I need to disconnect, I need air'' Matt responds whispering so as not to be heard by you ''Sorry MattyB but no'' says Chris taking a can of Pepsi from the fridge and then he goes out too.

Another puff comes out of his lips knowing he has to stay with you all day, and resignedly throws himself back on the couch closing his eyes.

When he feels your steps approaching a sense of annoyance and nervousness pervades his body, he can't even understand the reason for all this but it's already been a couple of days that he just wants to have a moment for him, but with you in the middle it's almost completely impossible.

On the other hand, you do not notice anything different, perhaps because taken by too much love even the most obvious things go unnoticed by your eyes in the shape of a little heart. 

All happy you go to the kitchen take water pouring it into a glass, you notice Matt on the sofa, you leave the glass on the counter and go in his direction lowering yourself to his height ''Babe, let's go out for breakfast?'' you ask trying to caress his hair but at your touch, he moves by sitting down looking at you ''I can't, I have to go out'' he responds annoyed without even looking at you, leaving you a little surprised but doesn't give up trying with a ''Then when you come back we can go for a ride at Lake Hollywood Park, right?'' hopeful in one of his answers but the only thing he pronounces is a ''See you later'' without greeting you and leaving the house, leaving you standing in the middle of the living room. 

The hours go by and so does your enthusiasm, you start thinking about the worst situations in your mind, which do nothing but increase your paranoia;

Okay maybe you recognize that in the last period, you have always been with them but although it has been almost a year since you moved to Los Angeles, you have not been able to make many friends due to your armor that you tend to raise when it comes to new people. But with Nick, Chris, and Matt it's different, you've known them since you were little, and with them, there was never a need to create a wall to protect you, because they are your guardian angels.

You've always gotten along, except for a few quarrels which is normal, but you've never noticed before behaviors so distant from Matt, as if your presence wasn't welcome.

When you hear the door open you hope that your boyfriend's figure will come out of the stairs but you recognize the voices of Chris and Nick, you resign yourself completely on the couch with your pajamas and the tray of ice cream on your legs.

''Ookay... why are you at home? Didn't you have to go out?'' Nick asks looking at you confused ''By the way where is Matt?'' Keep looking around ''I have no idea'' you answer him in a subtle voice while you eat a spoonful of vanilla ice cream, you feel the tears stop at the corners of your eyes, so you don't see you turn your head on the other side putting the teaspoon in the tray ''He came out this morning and never came back, I tried to text him and call him a couple of times but I didn't receive an answer'' you keep whispering closing your eyes making the tears fall.

You feel the package of ice cream being removed from your legs and two arms that surround you, from the essence that envelops you, you recognize that is Chris and with your eyes still closed you abandon yourself in a liberating cry after holding it all day ''Shh, it's okay'' he whispers massaging your back ''You know that now and then he has its relapses and behaves like this'' he keeps trying to reassure you.

You pull up with your nose and detach yourself from his arms ''But with me, he had never behaved this way.. at all he always came to me'' you explain looking in his direction receiving almost an expression of pity on his face ''What do you say if we order something and watch a movie here all together? We will make you choose'' announces trying to cheer you up But on your part, he only receives a nod with your head.

Even though he had spent the whole day outside walking around the crowded streets of Santa Monica, his mind did nothing but think about the time to get home, the only thought of having you always stuck made him take his breath away, of course he cared you but this so much physical contact, at that time, was leading him to detach himself from everything, but especially from you.

That's why he had waited for a late time to come back, so as not to have to face you trying to postpone everything to the day of your departure. But you know how his thought works more than yourself, in this way after finishing watching your comfort movie together with the two boys, you decide not to go to sleep right away but to stay on the couch not being able to stay alone in bed without Matt by your side, with the knowledge of having done something wrong. 

The fact that there was no communication between the two of you was new, you have always been the anchor of each other, and not being it in a short time has completely upset you, especially not understanding how to act, and consequently how to find a solution. 

The silence that reigns in the house is broken by the noise of the keys that are inserted into the door patch, your heart begins to beat quickly but you remain motionless sitting with your gaze turned in his direction, while he tries to slowly climb the entrance stairs but when it reaches the last one, he stops seeing you pulling his eyes up ''you shouldn’t have waited up for me, there was no need'' he says changing towards the fridge taking a bottle of water but no longer being able to hold back your thoughts for you ''What have I done? It's all day that you avoid me indeed it's days that you behave strangely'' you blurt out getting up to get closer to him, and given your height difference you are forced to pull up your head to look him better in the eyes.

As you stand in front of Matt, you can feel the bitterness in his words cutting deep into your heart. "What did you do to me?" he asks, his voice laced with anger and frustration. "There's that you've become overbearing and clingy. I can't take it anymore. You're always sticky, I never have a free moment, and if I have it, you're always there" he exclaims with clenched teeth and a hard look.

His words strike you like a bolt of lightning, and you take a step back, not believing what you're hearing. "We weren't like that before, and now I understand why no one has ever wanted you" he adds with wickedness, making you feel small and insignificant.

You try to speak, but your voice catches in your throat. You know what you've been through, and you've always hoped that Matt would understand. But instead, he holds it against you, making you feel like an outcast.

"You're an asshole" you finally manage to say, raising your voice as tears slide down your face. It's not like you to use such harsh words, but you're hurt and angry, and you can't help it.

At that moment, Matt opens his eyes, and you can see the surprise and shock on his face. He had never heard you say such a thing to him. Among all people, it was always you who used a calm tone, even in the most difficult situations.

Seeing you rush into his room, he follows you around, but when he sees that you start to take your bags, he realizes that he has exaggerated. "What do you do?" he asks, trying to take your arm. But with all the anger that you had in your body, in very little, you wriggle from his grip. "Let go of me" you say in a dry tone.

"I'm not going to stay in the room with you anymore. I'll go to Nick's, and I'll bring all my stuff" you finish, closing the zip and dragging the bag on the ground. As you come out of his room, you find yourself facing the two guys who, from the screams, immediately catapulted to see what had happened.

As you ask Nick for help, you feel exhausted and drained from the situation at home. Without even turning to see him, his hand takes the bag from yours and you head up to the room with the older brother. In the distance, you hear Chris saying, "Dude you have already done too much damage, let her be."

Days pass by, but the situation at home remains the same.

After receiving some harsh words, you decide to build a wall between you and Matt and try to avoid being alone with him.

You attempt to behave like a mature person, spending more time with the two brothers and going out on your own when they can't accompany you.

Matt, on the other hand, feels good when you're not around. However, as time passes, guilt starts to creep in, and he realizes that he doesn't want to push away the one person who means the world to him.

He understands this even more when you don't even look at him at the airport and leave without a single glance. "Why did I do wrong to her?" he says to himself as he watches you go through security checks. "Because you're a jerk, that's why" answers Nick, watching him with a serious expression.

Although he regrets his actions, Matt is determined to make things right between you two. Without telling anyone, he packs his backpack with only the bare minimum and heads off to the other side of the country.

Spring break is coming to an end, and leaving your family and friends in Boston again feels like a stab in the heart. This time, it hurts even more because you know that once you get back, you'll have to fend for yourself completely, starting with finding an apartment.

You and your family were having a pleasant evening playing board games when you heard the doorbell ring. "Were you expecting someone?" you asked, moving your pawns on the board. "No, we weren't. Why don't you go and answer it?" your mother replied, gazing at you with a gentle expression. You got up from your spot, a little confused.

As you reached the door, you saw Matt standing outside with a bouquet of your favorite tulips and a puppet with the words <I'm stupid> written on it. The sight of the flowers made you smile, but you didn't let your guard down completely.

''Please, I have to talk to you''

"You have five minutes" you told him as you closed the door behind you and sat on the porch, keeping a distance. He handed you the flowers and the puppet, and you accepted them, putting the flowers next to you and holding the puppet in your hands.

"I'm sorry" he began, fiddling with your fingers. "I know I'm not good with words, but I realize now that I was wrong to say what I said.

I shouldn't have blamed you like that. I just wanted to talk to you and explain my side of things."

He paused, looking down, and when he looked up again, his eyes were watery. You felt your own eyes fill up with tears, too.

"I don't want to lose you" he said, touching your cheek. You closed your eyes and put your hand on his. "I was an asshole, but I understand that now that you're gone."

You spoke up, your voice barely above a whisper. "It was a low blow. You've never made me feel so small and helpless before. But I have to admit, I've been clingier than usual lately. That's just my way of showing you love, and if you don't like it, we can end it here."

"No way" he said, taking a step closer. "I flew over 2,500 miles to see you and tell you I love you more than anything. We just need to communicate better and make sure we're both happy. I'm here because I want to be and make it up to you." concludes by looking into your eyes '' I love you too... but please let's not hurt ourself anymore'' you leaned your forehead against his and felt his lips on yours in a gentle kiss.

When you pulled away, you grinned and grabbed the puppet. "Would you be him?" you asked, laughing together.

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

Taglist:  @sturniolosreads @mayhem-72 @dracoflaco @lyzsaphrodite @ifilwtmfc @xoxo4chrisss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @inlovewithmattstur @sturniolobendystrawsposts @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07

[cal-flakes]

could u pleaseee write a blurb abt reader accidentally hitting rages nuts while try to get comfy cuddle him and he starts swearing and like whining like a little baby cause it hurts and reader juat try’s to comfort him xoxo

ABSOLUTELY YES (assuming i read this correctly, this gif felt fitting) i hope it’s what you wanted, enjoy <33

╰┈➤ rafe gets injured

warnings: swearing.

summary: while trying to get yourself comfortable on top of your boyfriend as you settle down to watch a film, you accidentally hurt him.

the smell of butter popcorn fills the air as you stand in the kitchen, bored. according to you, three minutes is a very long time to wait for popcorn. “you coming baby?” rafe calls from the living room, waiting for you to come watch american psycho with him. “just a minute!” you call back.

the loud beeps of the microwave break your concentration on your nails, alerting you the popcorns done. sighing contently, you open the bag, careful not to burn yourself, before pouring the contents into a large sharing bowl. sparing the kitchen one last glance to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything, you switch off the light and head through to the living room.

as you set the bowl down on the coffee table in front of him, you scanned his figure, internally screaming at how good he looks splayed across the couch. “where am i supposed sit?” you pouted, poking fun at how he’s taken up the whole damn chair. rafe smirks up at you before gesturing for you to simply climb on top of him. deciding to be a bit pedantic, you do exactly that and plonk yourself down on top of him.

nothing could prepare you for the dramatics that would happen next. “fuck!” rafe yells, possibly louder than you’ve ever heard him. your eyes widen at the scene before you. rafe rolls around the rug on the floor, clutching his crotch, possibly in tears.

at first you thought he was being dramatic and let out a loud laugh, that was until he began his torrent of curses.

“it’s not fucking funny y/n! do you know how much that fucking hurt?” rafe shouts out in a weak voice, somewhat out of breath. realising what you had accidentally done, you crawl over to him and sit by his side. rafe flinches as you put your hand on his cheek and turns to face you. “oh my god! i’m so sorry! im so so so so sorry! i didn’t mean to!” you pleaded, noticing the tears welling up over his waterline. stroking his face, you lean down to kiss his forehead while he continues his hold down below.

sighing breathlessly, he rolls over onto his back as the pain subsides. his eyes narrow at you, shooting daggers. “you are so going to regret that y/n” he jokes as he quickly jumps up. before you could blink, rafe had you locked in his arms, pinned underneath him as he began tickling you.

kicking and screaming, you struggle to get away from his grip. “rafe! i-im sorry! i didn’t mean to!” you choke out between laughs.

you could never understand why tickling made a person laugh, especially when it was one of the top five torture methods, or atleast it was in your books.

[7s3ven]

THE IDEA OF US. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… the saddest thing in a relationship is knowing you met the wrong person at the wrong time yet you still can’t let them go.

“She’ll be the best you ever had if you let her. I know it’s for the better.”

A/N : This took me at least a week to right, omg

Warnings : toxic relationship, swearing, ed (eating d1sorder) mentioned, mental illness, mentions of sex, dirty jokes, making out, y/n and theo are both bitches, vulgar language, angst

—

Y/N L/N and Theodore Nott had been good friends for years. And their families had known each other for much longer. Since childhood, the two had been attached at the hip and nothing changed when they were accepted into Hogwarts.

“Y/N.” Theo called out, jogging to catch up with the girl. She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you can’t copy my answers, Theo. I told you to do the homework yourself.”

Theo sheepishly smiled. The day he was supposed to be studying, he was at a party. Y/N was there too, though she had already completed all her assignments and could drink without a care. Y/N had always been the better at academics out of the two.

“Change of topic, are you going to the Malfoy ball?” Theo asked. Y/N almost scoffed. She had no choice and neither did he. If their parents were going, they had to as well.

“Duh. What’s the color of your suit?”

“Dark blue. Apparently I look better in navy according to my mother.”

“Debatable.” Y/N hummed.

“Your dress?”

“Also dark blue. Matching. Again.” Y/N sarcastically smiled.

They seemed to coincidentally match for every important event; this was the fifth time. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was accidental anymore considering their mothers always chose their clothes for these events.

Theo chuckled, “I think our parents are up to something.”

“You just noticed?”

“Well, sorry I don’t pay that much attention to people like you.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy undressing girls with your eyes to notice.”

“The only girl I’m undressing is you and I don’t need my eyes for it. My hands can do that for me.” Theo smugly smirked while Y/N’s face scrunched up in disgust. She pushed him, causing the brunette to crash into a nearby stone wall. He winced, which amused Y/N.

“Think twice before you try and get me in bed, Nott.”

Theodore Nott was a handsome fellow with his slightly curled hair, messy tie, and the smell of cigarettes blending in with his strong cologne. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Y/N wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing him. He was attractive after all but still her best friend. It was never a good idea to date someone you saw every day because once you broke up, it became too awkward to bear.

That wasn’t the only reason. The main reason were Theo’s eyes. His gaze was constantly bored and dead, even when he was around beautiful girls. He never showed emotion apart from the smug smirk Y/N liked to wipe off his face. If she dated him, would he still he bored? Showing appreciation was never his strong point.

Theo slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “I was thinking that since you don’t like potions and I don’t either, we could take a little detour. Sneak in a cig or two. Maybe even some forbidden romance.”

For two years, Theo had been playfully flirting with Y/N. Nobody batted an eye, already assuming that the pair had something going on. Y/N could still remember the first terrible pickup line Theo had used on her after the Christmas break.

Y/N was walking down the steps that led to the girls’ dorms. She adjusted her tie so it wasn’t choking her to death. Her blouse and skirt were a size too small because she, or rather her parents, had forgotten to order a new uniform.

She spotted her usual friend group consisting of the highest-ranking Slytherins all perched upon the couches next to the fireplace. As she waltzed towards them, Theo lifted his head and for a moment, Y/N swore there was a flash of emotion before it disappeared.

“Matt, have you seen Pansy? She wasn’t in the dorm when I woke up.” Y/N placed a hand on Matteo’s shoulder like she always did. He turned to look at her, startled.

“Y/N, I didn’t even recognise you.”

“Seriously, Matt?”

“What? You’ve changed a lot!”

“My boobs just got bigger.”

Matteo’s eyes flickered down before he nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Theo leaned over to smack Matteo’s head. “Stop staring at her chest, you idiot.” As always, he came to Y/N’s rescue, even when she didn’t exactly need it.

“Matteo was right, though.” Theo piped up as he walked Y/N to class. “You have changed.” He heard her laugh. “I’m serious. It’s the way you carry yourself, not just your face.”

Theo was her best friend but he had never been so… gentle with her. He fanned his face with his hand, loudly exhaling. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

It took Y/N a moment to realise what he was implying. She stared at him, unamused. “Never talk to me again.”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer.” Y/N uttered, “But not the romance. Stay six meters away from me.”

That’s how Y/N and Theo ended up in the latter’s room, sharing one of Matteo’s cigarettes and laughing.

“Okay, but seriously. How many cloaks do you think Snape has in his wardrobe.” Y/N asked as she took the thin blunt from Theo.

He blew out a cloud of smoke. “He changes? I thought he lived in one.” An amused grin spread across the Slytherin’s face. “How many students do you think have accidentally patted Mcgonagall thinking she was a normal cat?”

“Plenty, I’m sure.” Y/N turned her head, almost jolting when her nose brushed Theo’s. “Ew, why are you so close?” She said it teasingly, grinning at her friend who was strangely silent.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

In all honesty, Theo wasn’t having much luck containing the thought of kissing Y/N either. The first few years of school were purely platonic but once everybody started to grow up, Theo found himself in an unusual predicament; he had feelings for his best friend.

“If you want to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” It was another playful jab at Theo but with all the smoke rushing to his head, he took it literally. Y/N didn’t expect him to grab her by the chin, forcefully pushing his lips against hers like he had been starved of kissing, which she knew wasn’t true. She had seen Theo kissing a brunette girl at a party weeks ago. Yet he hadn’t kissed her with such passion.

Theo was the first to pull away, his chest heaving up and down. Y/N remained still. She parted her lips to say something but no word rolled off her tongue.

“Theo.” She finally said. “What was that?”

“I thought you were being serious.” He was still unbearably close, his strong cologne washing over Y/N and clouding her senses. “We don’t have to talk about it… but I needed it. Let me have this, Y/N.”

She had never heard Theo beg. It sparked a fire of warmth in her chest. “Ask nicely.” She muttered. Theo paused for a short moment before he thickly swallowed.

“Please.”

The moment the word slipped past his lips in such a delicate way, Y/N leaned forward. Theo tilted his head back as their lips met once more, hands clumsily trailing over each other’s bodies and holding their breaths to make the kiss last longer.

Theo felt ashamed that he was kissing his friend but in the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. All he could focus on was Y/N. She was practically on top of him, easily taking control while he was reduced to putty.

Y/N with her perfect hair and untainted uniform.

Y/N with her chuckles of amusement at Theo’s reactions.

She was all that occupied his mind. He repeated her name in his head like a mantra, never stopping until they were wrapped and tangled in his bed sheets.

They never spoke of that particular day but a new spark had been born; one that consumed both their lives. Everybody noticed the not-so-secretive looks Theo sent Y/N and the small shared smiles in between classes. Like old times, Theo never left Y/N’s side. He paid no attention to other girls, not when his arm was wrapped around Y/N as she laughed with Pansy and made fun of Matteo. And despite the pair silently vowing the incident where they ended up in Theo’s bed together would not occur a second time, it always happened again.

The holidays finally arrived and the pinochle event of the wizarding world was finally drawing in; the Malfoy ball.

“Where’s Y/N?” Pansy was the last of the group to arrive at the manor, holding a bag that contained her dress and her extensive collection of makeup.

“Coming later.” Theo said, running a hand through his hair.

The whole group had decided to meet at the Malfoy Manor to get ready. Everybody but Y/N. This wasn’t unusual behaviour for her; she always stated how she worked better alone. Theo almost laughed at the memory of how she’d always refuse to do group work.

“How do you know that?” Draco piped up.

Theo casually shrugged as if he hadn’t spent two hours with Y/N. “I saw her on my way. She’ll probably arrive when the event starts.”

Pansy pouted. “I wanted her to help me with my dress.”

“I’ll help.” Draco said a little too quickly. Matteo and Lorenzo snickered together, playing kicking kissing faces at the platinum blond.

“Oh, shut up you morons.” Draco hissed as he followed Pansy to the bathroom to help her. As soon as he was gone, Lorenzo and Matteo chose Theo as their new victim.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice a little romance thing going on between you and a certain H/C-nette.” Matteo coolly uttered, resting an arm on Theo’s shoulder.

Lorenzo subtly rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t noticed? It’s quite obvious.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Theo muttered, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah. That bracelet on your arm says otherwise.” Matteo fired back. Theo almost started cursing at him. He had forgotten how he jokingly slid on one of Y/N’s bracelets. To make matters worse, not only were her initials carved into the silver but so was her full name.

“Coincidence.” Theo grumbled, quickly pocketing the bracelet.

“What about you two always sneaking off? You love staying at parties until the end but lately, you’ve been disappearing. Into rooms. With you-know-who.” Lorenzo was ganging up on Theo as well, much to his annoyance.

“I’m not fucking Matteo’s dad.” Theo retorted.

“When I said you-know-who, I meant Y/N!”

“I know! It was a joke, Enzo!” Theo huffed, his gaze darting back to the large mirror in front of him.

“We hear you, by the way.” Matteo whispered. “The walls are thin and we have to hang out in Blaise’s dorm when the door is closed because we know what’s happening.”

“Oh, please. Please. Yes, right there.” Lorenzo mocked, copying the noises he had heard mere days ago. Theo’s cheeks flushed red.

“That’s not me.” He was already losing to Matteo and Lorenzo’s little game but he stood firm.

“Hm. Right.” Matteo didn’t believe his friend’s words for one second. “Well, I better get dressed. Guests will be arriving soon. Can’t wait to see your little principessa or whatever you call her in bed.” He walked off, cackling like a hyena. Only Lorenzo was left.

“Just confess to her, dude. She probably feels the same way.” Lorenzo matted Theo’s back before he followed after Matteo, needing to get dressed as well.

Theo found himself alone in the glittering ballroom, still waiting for his late companions. He swirled the champagne around in his glass in boredom, almost wanting to spill it on someone to watch their reaction.

“All by yourself, Nott?”

Theo didn’t waste any time in spinning around. “Y/N.” He stated. She was staring up at him, focused on his eyes like she always was. Sometimes Theo wondered if he could see the slight joy in his gaze whenever she was around.

“Where are the others?” She questioned.

“I’m not sure. Right now, it’s just me.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s good because I was looking forward to spending more time with you.” As if they didn’t spend enough time together as they were.

“Isn’t it funny how our mothers dressed us up in not only the same color, but the same shade, as well?” Theo grinned. “Same fabric too. Are they trying to tell us something?”

“What? That we should date?”

Theo deeply hummed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He placed his glass on a nearby table, his attention focused solely on Y/N. “The party’s just started so let’s find a way to pass the time.”

Y/N grasped his tie, pulling him forward. “You’re on, Nott.”

They found themselves in a dark and crowded room filled with old antiques. Theo harshly kissed Y/N, tightly gripping her waist. In the midst of the heated moment, three words that Y/N dreaded accidentally slipped past her lips.

“I love you.” She froze, realising what she had said out of impulse.

“That’s too bad.” Theo joked but his words still made her heart sink and she felt numb in the actions that followed their kisses.

Nobody was shocked when they returned to Hogwarts to find that Y/N, who never liked anyone, and Theo, who only engaged in casual relationships, were dating. It was expected because they hardly spent any time apart, which made room for romantic feelings.

Theo knocked on Y/N’s dorm door. Somehow, he had found a way past the charm placed on the stairs. “Hey, the Ravenclaws are having a party. Wanna go? The whole gang is going.” He stepped into her room that she shared with Pansy and two other Slytherin girls.

Y/N was sitting on a desk pushed into the corner next to a window, overlooking the scenery. “Don’t feel like it.” She muttered, busy writing an essay for who knows what. Theo faltered.

“Are you sure? Otherwise I’ll go with Mel.”

Y/N paused and she slowly glanced over her shoulder. “Mel?” She raised her eyebrows in a condescending way. “Who’s that?”

“One of Pansy’s friends but she’s cool. She’s the one who invited us anyway.”

“Okay.” Y/N turned back to her work without uttering another word, leaving Theo frustrated.

“Why are you mad?” He questioned, taking a step forward.

“I’m not.” The monotone sound of Y/N’s voice made it clear that she was. “You can go to the party, I don’t care.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“And I wasn’t asking you to bring up another girl.”

Theo clenched his jaw. Y/N had been in a jealous state for over a week. Every time Theo simply accidentally glanced at another girl, she grew mad.

He spun Y/N’s chair around, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t shove him away. He could smell her expensive body lotion and perfume as it washed over him. “What the fuck is going on with you?” He seethed, “You’ve been like this all week. I don’t fucking know what you want, Y/N.”

“I want you to stop paying attention to other girls. Easy.” She shrugged.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to look at other girls if you were more laid-back.” The biting words rolled off Theo’s tongue before he could stop them. Annoyance clouded his brain but he knew he’d come to regret it when he saw that glint of anger in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m asking for the bare minimum, Theo.”

He didn’t even know what she was asking at this point.

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes like she always did. “Go to the party, see if I care. Maybe Mel is more laidback than me.”

With a strong push, Y/N shoved Theo back. She walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Theo stood in the same spot for a moment, trying to register what had happened. He heard the faint sound of the bath water running; Y/N always had relaxing baths when she was stressed.

“Come to the party if you change your mind.” Theo called out in a futile attempt to make amends. All he got in reply was a loud hum.

Theo wasn’t too sure when their relationship went downhill. It was great for a while in the honeymoon phase until the arguments started.

Theo would scream at Y/N for not eating so she could use that time to study until her nose bled and she passed out from exhaustion.

Y/N would accuse Theo of cheating because he spent about as much time with other girls as he did with Y/N and his friends. It wasn’t his fault he was a heartthrob.

After every fight, they made peace and promised not to let their mistakes happen again. But they always did because history repeats itself until you learn from it. Perhaps Theo and Y/N were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t exactly match but you forced them to anyway.

“Theo.” Mel’s hand brushed his shoulder as she handed him a dark bottle of beer. “What’s on your mind?”

Mel smelled like roses and sweet strawberries while Y/N’s perfume was always addictive and deep. They were complete opposites but Theo had always preferred Y/N’s.

“Y/N.” Theo grumbled, taking a gulp from the bottle.

“She’s always causing problems.” It was not Mel’s place to say such a thing but she wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know. She’s been so paranoid and it’s just rubbing me the wrong way. She gets mad at me every five minutes, even for shit I don’t do. She’ll blame Matteo’s tricks on me.”

Mel shifted closer to Theo, their hands accidentally brushing. She smiled. “You’ve told me about all this before. Why don’t you just break up?”

Theo almost wanted to laugh. Him? Break up with Y/N? She was a L/N, a prestigious family that stood above everybody else. He’d need to have a death wish to leave her. The only way he could get out unscathed was if Y/N broke up with him or if it was mutual.

Mel’s finger trailed up his thigh and despite Theo giving her a look to stop, he didn’t grasp her wrist.

His stomach sank in dread as someone behind him cleared their throat. “Is “one of Pansy’s friends” now code for a new fuck buddy?” Y/N leaned over, her warm breath hitting Theo’s neck. He could feel the anger radiating off her. “Nice one, Nott. You almost had me convinced you’d settled down.”

Theo was up in a heartbeat, practically pushing Mel away from him. He raced after Y/N, who had already exited the Ravenclaw common room. She was now quickly pacing through the dimly lit corridors, no particular location in mind.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Theo shouted, his voice echoing. He was expecting Y/N to speed up but instead, she spun around and grabbed him by the collar.

“What were you doing with her, huh?” Y/N hissed, “Just because you’ve finally tied me down doesn’t mean you can go and not put effort into this relationship!”

“I was only talking to her!”

“Well, it didn’t look purely platonic! Her hand was on your thigh and you didn’t even stop her!”

“That’s just the way girls are with me! What am I supposed to do, huh? You can’t ban me from talking to other people!”

Y/N shoved Theo, “You are so frustrating! You never take anything seriously!”

“And you take everything too literally. I was just talking to her! Nothing else!”

“She looked like she wanted to fucking kiss you! And she was probably going to!”

“Everybody wants to kiss me! Where’s the problem in that, huh?! You kiss me!”

“The problem is you have a fucking girlfriend!”

“You’re the one always talking to other guys like some…” Theo spluttered, tripping over his own words in search of a retort. “Some sort of slut!” As always, he immediately regretted his words. Y/N’s face morphed into a look of fury.

“I have been loyal from day one!” She screeched, “The thought of cheating has never crossed my mind so don’t you dare call me a slut when you know the only person here willing to cheat would be you!”

Y/N and Theo stared at each other, panting heavily. “Fuck you.” Theo whispered.

“Why don’t you go back to the party and fuck Mel instead, huh?” Y/N wittily snapped back. The last of Theo’s calmness finally broke and he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, shoving her into an empty classroom and locking the door behind him.

“Mel is only a friend. She’s not my girlfriend, you are. I have never thought of cheating either and the fact you accuse me of it is preposterous.”

“Using big words now, are you?” Even in a locked room with someone who could easily throw her out the window, Y/N was making annoyingly smart remarks.

Theo spoke again, only it wasn’t in English. He angrily spoke in full Italian, yelling at her. Y/N had learnt a few words for his sake but she found it hard to keep up.

The fast words slipped past Theo’s lips and he paused, waiting for Y/N to answer as if she actually understood him. She awkwardly smiled. “Uh… Sì?”

“At least you know that word. Mel doesn’t know any Italian so who’s the better one between you two, huh? I’ll give you a hint. I like girls who attempt to learn my language.”

“So get Mel to learn it.”

“I love you, not her.” Theo insisted.

“It’s too late for that.”

Theo let out a quiet sigh as Y/N unlocked the door. She paused, waiting for him to call out for her again. He didn’t.

“Have fun.” She grumbled.

Theo ran his tongue over his teeth before he grabbed Y/N’s shoulder. “Every time we argue, we don’t try to resolve it. So we’re going to work it out right here, right now.”

“Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” Y/N sneered.

“See, that’s your problem. You’re insecure.”

Y/N scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn’t insecure; she was far from it. She was the most confident girl in the year.

“You get paranoid every time I talk to a girl. You’re controlling and you’re always accusing me of shit I would never do.”

“You cheated on your first girlfriend.” Y/N piped up, making Theo freeze. “What? You didn’t think I’d find out? Once a cheater, always a cheater, Nott.”

“So why’d you date me, huh?”

“You aren’t even going to defend yourself? I thought you were different because you were my friend. I thought you finally grew up but I don’t think you have. My problem is paranoia, yours is cheating. And don’t get me fucking started on the drinking and smoking.”

Theo clenched his jaw. “You wanna play that game, prissy princess? Okay. You have more than one problem. In fact, you have too many to count. You’re fucked in the head, narcissistic, you can’t fucking eat properly, and you think everybody likes you when in reality, we’re all waiting for your downfall. You aren’t as popular as you think. And the damn studying. You study so much that you get sick! Physically and mentally sick! You’re just setting yourself up for failure!”

“I warned you.” Y/N whispered, harshly poking Theo’s chest. “I warned you about me! I warned you about the mental issues, the eating disorders, the problems that will start showing! And like everybody else, you said “it’s fine, I’ll be able to handle it”. Then like everybody else, you want to back away the moment I show negative signs! Do you think I like being like this? Depressed, anxious, paranoid, starving, and barely able to eat?! Do you think I fucking like going to therapy?!”

“You may as well go to more sessions because you aren’t getting any better.”

“You’re an ass, Nott.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Did we resolve the issue like you wanted? Because if so, I’d like to return to my dorm so I can watch a movie with a love interest who isn’t a complete jerk and only thinks with his dick.” As always, Y/N was the first to storm off.

“You love my dick!” Theo shouted after her.

“Fuck you!” She pointed the middle finger at him without turning out.

Theo shoved his hands into his deep pockets, clicking his tongue. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, hoping it would fix his pounding headache. “I need a cigarette.”

Theo didn’t attend his classes the next day. And, by the looks of it and the remarks from Pansy, neither did Y/N. He stumbled across her in the astronomy tower, smoking one of her reserved cigarettes.

“You beat me to my spot.” Theo grunted, cautiously taking a seat beside Y/N. She didn’t shove him away. She only slowly blinked and nodded.

“You should go to potions.” She muttered, smoke seeping past her teeth.

They were both numb from their previous argument, too tired to fight again. Theo had stayed up all night, replaying Y/N’s words in his head and scolding himself. Y/N wasn’t any better. Pansy slipped her some vodka from the party and the events that followed after were hazed history.

“How’s Mel?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from being snarky. She heard Theo scoff.

“Fuck, you can’t stop bringing her up for even five minutes?”

There were no apologies in their relationship. Perhaps they learn it from their parents who, every time they’d argue, would gift them with lavish gifts instead of saying sorry.

“Why should I? You can’t stop calling me a slut.”

“It was one time.”

An awkward silence settled between the pair before Theo drew in a heavy breath.

“I love you…” He muttered. Y/N thickly swallowed, blowing out another mouthful of smoke.

“If you loved me, we wouldn’t be doing this. We wouldn’t be going back and forth, continuously fighting and trying to one up each other. We wouldn’t be trying so hard to make this work when we know it’s going to fail.”

A pit settled in Theo’s stomach. “Are you… breaking up with me?” The sadness in Y/N’s eyes made it apparent.

“Face it, Theo, we aren’t a good match. The only other reason we got this far is because of our parents. Our parents wanted us to never friends, our parents wanted us to date, our parents want us to get married. What about what we want? What happens if we do get married? It’ll crash and burn. We don’t work. No matter how hard we try, we will never work.”

“But… I love you.”

Y/N shook her head, “That’s not enough this time.”

The sudden realisation that Theo was losing Y/N caused him to cup her face, pressing his forehead against his.

“There’s a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving them.” Y/N mumbled, “Us? We love the idea of each other. We are constantly stuck on the “what ifs” of our relationship? The possibilities. We are so obsessed with this relationship because we created a different version of each other in our heads when in reality, those version of us will never be true.”

Theo rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. He knew she was only telling the truth but it still hurt. Maybe Y/N was the right person for him or maybe she wasn’t; all he knew was that they met at the wrong time.

“I love you too, Theo, but we have a problem even saying those simple words.”

Their breakup was inevitable once the arguments started. It was only a matter of time before the fighting became too frequent to ignore.

“So… this is it?” Theo muttered. “We’re finally breaking up?”

“We had a good run, Theo.” Y/N uttered, fiddling with her cigarette. She handed it to Theo, slightly smiling. “See you around… I guess.”

“You’re just… walking away?” Theo himself was cold sometimes but he didn’t expect it from Y/N. It was finally clear why she had been placed in Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw; she was as heartless as her friends.

“If I don’t walk away, Nott, then I’ll keep holding on when I know I need to let go.”

Nott. Y/N always called him that when she was angry or teasing him. She didn’t look angry this time, only sad. They’d see each other at meals for sure but it would never be the same because they’d no longer be holding hands under the table.

“See you at dinner.” Y/N said, her voice a hushed mutter. She feared that if she spoke any louder, Theo would hear her voice break and notice her glassy eyes.

“Yeah… see you.” Theo watched as Y/N walked off with no intention of chasing after her. He wanted to and it took all his power to fight the urges to hold her back. This was for the best. Theo knew he’d have to let go of Y/N eventually so that both of them could pursue a healthier relationship in the far future.

He’d always be thinking of her, though, day and night. He knew it’d be the same for Y/N because despite everything that had happened between them, they were still each other’s first loves.

Theo glanced down at the cigarette he held in his hand. He could see Y/N’s lipstick stain imprinted on it, the last reminder of the kisses they shared before it all burned down.

HP TAG LIST (comment to be added) : @jetblackpayne @rafeslittleangel @opheliamalfoy236

[srjlvr]

[ DOUBLE BIRTHDAY ] — psh . <3

SYN. sunghoon asks you to help him buy a birthday present for his cousin….but he doesn’t even have one!

genre . fluff ! warnings . second hand embarrassed , caught in lie ! word-count . 1.2k+ ! note . im so late but happy birthday sunghoon!! my ult bias ever since the first ep of i-land<3 will write one for ni-ki soon!! this one is so rushed i don’t really like it, but maybe you could find a way to like it!!

“finally! what took you so long?” one of your coworkers asked you as soon as you entered the store.

you’re a jewelry seller, been working in the same place ever since you were young. you love your job, and love your coworkers too.

“sorry! i had some things to take care of” you said and went to get ready and start your shift.

as you got out of the workers room, you saw all of your coworkers standing outside while holding a cake, “happy birthday y/n” they cheered.

“thank you” you smiled and blow the candles.

you completely forgot that it’s your birthday today, your coworkers are always the ones to remind you, and you’re more than thankful to them, but other than eating the cake with them you’re not the person to go and celebrate on your birthday.

“what are your plans today?” one of your coworkers asked.

“finishing this shift and going to binge watch some movies” you smiled, “so boring!! go out and celebrate!!”

you shrugged them off as you saw someone familiar coming closer to you.

“sunghoon? is that you?” you asked and when you realized it’s him you waved, “hey! how can i help you today?” you smiled.

sunghoon was your classmate in college, you were good friends, but busy schedules cut you off.

you had the biggest crush on him in college, and you would definitely say yes if he ever asked you to date him, but he never did.

you spent all of your college days together, he was there for you when you needed him the most, and you promised to take care of him as long as you’re alive.

but life doesn’t always go according to your plans.

you and sunghoon share the same birth date, and you’ve spent your birthdays in college together.

you made eye contact with him and you forgot how much you missed him, all the time you spent together flashed back in your mind.

he smiled back at you and showed you his cute dimples while you tried so hard not to swoon over him.

“hey y/n! it’s been a while! how have you been?” he asked and you nodded, “nothing really changed, i’m still working here” you chuckled.

“what brought you here?” you asked.

“it’s my cousin’s birthday soon and i wanted to get him a jewelry, not something expensive and hardcore, but more like soft” he said.

“alright! let’s get to work!”

it was a bit strange for you, you can’t remember sunghoon having a cousin, but nevertheless you wanted to help him and spend some time with him.

you showed him a few jewelry which he tried on and liked a few of them, you shared full conversations which lead you to more talking and talking about whatever you had in mind.

“is that how you’re going to spend your birthday today? buying a jewelry for your cousin?” you chuckled.

“he’s very dear to me! it’s been a while since i saw him” he smiled and you nodded.

“do you think he’ll like this one or that one?” he asked, pointing at two designs that you told him you liked the most.

“what kind of a person he is?” you asked, “each jewelry has to match its owner”

“he’s shy, but really cute, also smart and pretty” he chuckled, “if you were him which one you’d pick?”

“i’d pick the bracelet, it’s really soft and not too eye catching, it matches pretty faces like yours and it’s really adding to the final touch if you ask me” you finally realized what you just said and freezed in your place.

“pretty faces like mine-“ “hey sunghoon! what are you doing here?” someone cut sunghoon off.

“jake? aren’t you supposed to be at work?” you remember jake, sunghoon used to talk about him a lot during lunch breaks, you’d laugh your ass off while listening to the funny stories sunghoon has on jake.

“i asked you a question first” jake coughed.

“i’m here to buy a jewelry for my cousin” he answered confidently, elbowing jake as if he’s trying to hint him something.

“cousin? you don’t have a cousin sunghoon what are you— o-oh” jake then looked at you and realized what was happening. he took his hand off of sunghoon’s shoulders and awkwardly giggled, “hahaha i forgot! you do have a cousin!! tell her i said hey!!”

“it’s him” sunghoon whispered, “oh yes!! tell him i said hey!” jake coughed and ran out of the store.

“i’m sorry for his—“ “so no cousin?” you crossed your arms.

sunghoon fixed his tie and awkwardly giggled, “no cousin”

“oh! you got it for yourself then? it’s your birthday after all!” you smiled, “yeah, you could say that” he nodded.

“i don’t understand” you shook your head.

“i was actually trying to find a way to talk with you” he played with his fingers, “it’s been a while since we talked, and i remember the workplace you told me you’ve been working ever since you were young”

you were a bit taken aback but you can’t deny that this man named sunghoon had such an effect on you.

you remember your college years, when you used to have the biggest crush on him, and apparently, you still have it in you.

“i didn’t know how to come up to you without sounding so weird, so i used the cousin excuse, but if i’m being honest i just missed you” he cleared his throat.

“i was actually wondering when does your shift end, and if i could finally take you out on a date” he scratched his nape.

“i’d love that, i finish in a few hours-“ “no! your shift ends now!! thank you for your hard work!!” your coworker pushed you to the workers room and closed the door after whispering a “go get your man!”

you got out of the room after you got ready and your eyes met sunghoon’s.

he was holding a box with your store’s name on it, “i know you don’t like celebrating your birthday or receiving gifts, but please accept this one, happy birthday y/n” he opened the box and you saw the bracelet you recommended him a few minutes ago.

you threw your hands on him and hugged him tightly, “i missed you so much sunghoon, happy birthday”

he hugged you back even tighter, “i missed you so much too”

“before we leave! let me get something, go wait for me outside i’ll be right back!” you said and he nodded.

you ran back to your coworker and hugged her, “thank you, i just need one last favor” you smiled and she nodded.

when you went outside to see sunghoon again, you handed him a box.

“y/n just because i bought you a present it doesnt mean you have to do it too—“ “just open it!” you pleaded and he did.

there was a bracelet that was exactly his type, the one he’d always tell you how much he wanted.

his eyes widened and he tried to fight the urge to kiss you right there and then.

“it was made a few years ago, when we were still in college, i wanted to hand it to you but i was scared, so i kept it here and swore i’ll hand it to you as soon as i get a chance” you said and he smiled, hugging you tightly again.

“i love it, thank you y/n”

“thank you for making my birthday so much better with your presence sunghoon”

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 (bold means cannot be tagged)

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[quillst]

My brain is in a very big Once Upon a Witchlight mood right now so here’s something I’ve been thinking about, how many years each character has. Weird ik but I couldn’t stop thinking about all the years both Gideon and Torbek lost and then started thinking, how does everyone have left?

So, here’s what I think at least (roughly cuz we don’t have some ages of some characters):

Kremy-

From a little search, most lizardfolk live to about 60. The oldest was 80 so. Currently (at least from what the wiki says), Kremy is 42 meaning he has 18 years left. If we’re pushing it and he becomes the second oldest a lizardfolk has lived to, then he has at the most 38 years left.

Gideon-

So, we don’t know how old he actually is but from that one adult man goblin animation, Gideon is younger than Kremy and Gricko and is older than Frost. Genasis usually live up to 120 years old. So, roughly, he has 80 ~ 85 years left. More than double than Kremy.

Gricko-

According to the wiki, Gricko is 44. He is the oldest in the group (before Torbek joined) and most likely to (at least through old age) die first. Though, let’s be real it would probably be Kremy and Gideon to die first with all the cons and that they pull off by pissing off the wrong people. Like lizardfolk they live up to sixty, so he has 16 years left.

Frost-

Frost is the youngest in the group, and again doesn’t have a canonical age but the wiki says that he is in his 20s. Some say tabaxis can live up to 100, most say that they have the same lifespan of a human. So I’m going with that. We usually live up to early 80s, late 70s so for the sake of me not having to put in more numbers, I’m going with 80. So, he has 51 ~ 60 years left.

Torbek-

Torbek’s age is going to be a rough guess considering the fact that we have no confirmed age / age range, and the many years that he had taken away from him. I think it’s a safe bet to put him at around 45 - 55. Bugbears live up to 80. So, he has 25 ~ 35 years left. Though, considering all the things he eats and the people after him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he dies younger than that.

So! To sum it, here’s the list of who would die first and how many years they have left:

1. Gricko -> 16 years left

2. Kremy -> 18 ~ 38 (if we’re pushing it) years left

3. Torbek -> 25 ~ 35 years left

4. Frost -> 51 ~ 60 years left

5. Gideon -> 80 ~ 85 years left

Sorry for the sort of morbid post, I was bored and wondering, so I did the maths for it! :)

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 8: late

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

' “Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.”

She’s so cool. '

---

You meet the girl of steel, though you've yet to get closer to her. Luckily, you have friends around the corner like Yuuji— and Megumi, too, but it's a little different with him.

word count: ~7k; tws: none for now :)!!

short a/n: hi i’m sorry i was away for so long!! life got a little busy and this chapter took a while to write. I will preface it by saying that this one is quite boring, though, but the chapters to look forward to a bit more are the two next ones!! lots will happen there :). thank you for your patience and i’m so sorry again!

25-6-2018 

By the time you’re back in Jujutsu High’s campus, night time has already shed its shadow against the world, black over Tokyo's fulgid skyscrapers like a veil, the sky devoid of any stars. Tokyo is a metropolis of glittery, coruscant lights that litter the land, with parks and crepe shops and cafes galore. And oh, how you love it every time you come back, from its 90s movie mood to its futuristic innovations. 

Dr Ieiri really had planned everything, as if she’d always expected you to be here: she’d got you a room near her office, even helped to clean some of it up, and promised you that you’d still be merely a room away from the one other female student currently in the school. Once the last first year— a girl— arrived, she’d be staying right next to you. 

“So? How long do you think you’ll be staying?” Dr Ieiri asks, “I know you’re planning on just giving someone something, but you’re going to be here for much longer, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright, but I’ll give you a heads up first. Staying here and operating as an actual sorcerer here, or a doctor for sorcerers like me or your father— it’s a far cry from the last time you were there. I won’t force you to help me when I need it, but you’re still going to be demanded of at almost all times, and I know you’d be the type of person to try to save people as much as you can. You have to be ready for that— the strain and all.” 

So she knew what you wanted better than you did. “I am.” You’ll ask that of your father later, to tell Sugisawa Third that you’re transferring to a religious school in Tokyo. They knew too little of you to think of whether you were religious or not anyway. 

“I’ll help you so you can still take things easy, okay?” 

“...okay. Thank you, doctor.” 

26-6-2018 

Dr Ieiri smokes less than you thought. Really, the night that you first met her was the first time she’d smoked again in five years, according to her. She attributed it to nostalgia and reminiscing on old memories before asking you to just go to bed— it was almost two in the morning. But you thought it made sense that the ones who were made to heal were the ones who mourned what was unhealed the most; you weren’t the only one stuck playing long-gone memories like a panoramic film on loop, a permanent backdrop in your mind. 

“You need to get a good night’s rest,” she’d said, but now you’re walking down the desolate hallways again. It’s fine— if there’s one thing about actually going against your parents for the first time instead of solely refuting them verbally in heated, mangled arguments, it’s that it’s insanely liberating. Before this, you’d have never even considered it an option, yet now it suddenly exists— that autonomy; suddenly, there isn’t a need to follow whatever order you’ve been given. And yes, you do respect Dr Ieiri and probably everyone else in your life, but you can choose not to abide by what they tell you just because you don’t want to— you decide it. No justifications, no reasons or polemics. Just pure responsibility and autonomy of yourself. You can’t fathom now, why you’d been scared of it before, or whether you’d even realised you were. It still feels unfamiliar, like a thrill, like adrenaline from treading on a tightrope above pits of deep, all-encompassing water, but in a week or so you’re going to have become used to it. 

From your room, if you walked all the way to the end of the hallway, you’d see the first year boys’ dorms. You don’t take the letter with you— that’s a bridge to either burn or cross another time, when you’re not right about to sleep. 

Careful to make as little sound as possible, you knock the door, hoping he’s awake. 

You hear his groggy steps as he seems to trudge himself along, before the door opens with a creaky whine. “—it’s one in the morning,” he frowns, “What do you want—” 

“Hi, Megumi.” 

He closes the door. You wait outside for a moment. 

Megumi opens the door again. 

“...I should’ve told you I was here, actually,” you say. 

“It’s one in the morning,” he goes, “Why aren’t…” he blinks his eyes awake a little, groaning as he rubs his temples, “Why aren’t you asleep? —no, why are you even here, really…” 

You’re going to regret your replies come morning, probably; they’ll sound stupid by then. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but that doesn’t really bother you. “I’m sorry. It’s just, um, I actually wanted to give you something, I mean— I’ll give it to you tomorrow or one of these days, but I was just bored. I just got here, and I’m just going to help Dr Ieiri with some things, um. …sorry, did I wake you? You should rest, actually, it helps your injuries heal faster; sorry for waking you—” 

“—no, not… not really. Don’t worry about that,” he states, “But you should still go to sleep anyway. It’s late.” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

He opens the door and heads inside. An invitation for you to enter, it seems, because he turns and waits for you, the door ajar as you hesitate in front of it. 

You come in. 

His dorm room seems quite similar to the one in his old home, actually, the only difference being how his room now is only just a little larger than the one you were in at fourteen. (You wonder what happened to it, whether Tsumiki still lies on her bed with her phone for a maximum of five minutes at the same time every day.) The two of you sit on the foot of the bed, the lack of light unquestioned. Just like things were two years ago. With the lights outside his window, the bustling city still abuzz with their izakayas and night clubs, your eyes can trace over an outline of his sharp face and spiky hair.  

“How long will you be staying?” 

“Quite a while, I think.” 

“...which is?” 

“Probably more than a week.” 

“Wh— then what about school?” 

“Oh, I kind of, um… threw it away. I don’t know, um. My parents knew I’d be here for a long time. I think I’m just going to transfer here. I’ll leave it all behind that way.” 

He sighs, “I know, but that… that just sounds like a thoughtless decision.” 

“The only part of it that I put thought into was whether I’d run away and live or stay and rot there. So when Dr Ieiri gave me a chance I just took it. And I’ll keep taking what she gives me. If not, then… I’ll be stuck dwelling on it for the rest of my life, I think.” For so long, you’d been trying not to do so; to not take that life-determining chance, to decide to dwell yearningly instead of live, and to appease your parents so at least your mother would have that sliver of assurance, but not anymore. They wouldn’t be in your life forever. 

“So you’re doing this just so you won’t live a life of regret? You’re doing this just for yourself?” 

“It’s the same thing as doing this so that I can help people. It’s two sides of the same coin. Not everyone has what I do.” 

“You sound like Itadori,” he says. The way he does so makes your chest ache slightly and you don’t know why. But nobody is as selfless or as much of an unstoppable force as Yuuji is. Nobody, ever. You turn your eyes away from him even if he can’t see you do so in the dark. 

“But Yuuji takes that to the extreme, I’m…pretty sure. I’m just trying to do what I can because I can.” 

You move your right hand to the side, fiddling with yourself, empty hands trying to find something to do. It bumps into something— something warm and soft. Skin. 

With imaginary chills running along your body, you feel Megumi’s left pinky finger loop itself around yours. He clears his throat, breaking the silence, and you look at him again, at the vague shadow before you. “—that’s…that’s my hand.” 

“Oh. Ah, okay,” you say. It feels right this way— comfortable, nervous, jumbled, calm— 

Your hands move slowly, your fingers trying to steady it like steering around an old, shaky wooden boat with only a paddle, set and ready to embark on a journey. Quivering, you pull your right pinky finger away before your hand is fully enveloped under the hold of his. The heat from his palm on the back of your hand transfers itself right to your face and neck. It’s summer, but it feels cold and hot in the best way possible. “Do… do you want me to let go? Do you want me to stop?” 

“...no. I don’t think so. Do you?” 

“No. I want to stay.” 

“Okay. Me too.” 

He does. 

In the silence you sit up, biting your bottom lip, your nerves like jelly and your brain probably fried if not for the lack of sleep. For a moment you decide to look at him, and you see him swifty turn his head away from you as soon as you do so. 

(—so he’d been looking at you?) 

What wakes you up is the sunrise, an early morning. It’s been embedded into your brain to wake up at seven sharp no matter how late you slept. 

He’s sleeping, his face down, water in his eyelashes— you suppose that’s why he has such crystalline eyes, viridian ones that remind you of summer and life and protection. Jade and grass. Shifting into rather uncomfortable positions so as to not wake him, you pull yourself away. 

His hand still remains snug over yours. 

‘Just friends’ don’t do things like this, you think. But at the same time, ‘just friends’ don’t fight curses or heal those who do so, and ‘just friends’ don’t have a third person they had better relationships with before they broke apart while constantly thinking of each other and decided to at the very least become active figures in each others’ lives again. 

This is scary, moving all too quickly. You’re being grabbed by the waist and thrust into a paraglider; you’re flying in the vast expanse of a boundless, unnavigable sky, manning a paramotor with no previous warning or idea of how to do so. 

But he's very beautiful like this. Hair so black it’s blue, eyelashes woven of silk, a jaw so sharp yet so smooth. The sun greeting the sky as it ejects itself from the inky-hued horizon. You don’t know if there’s a creator, or if there’s a god— you’ve heard of Christianity and many other kinds of faith, though you’d never really dabbled in any of them. But you’d definitely thank someone like that, because scenes like these are proof that someone like that exists, and that that someone is an artist, a masterful artist. So he must have created you and given you an apt appreciation for beauty and art, too, as well as someone like Megumi who was beauty and art. 

‘Just friends’ don’t think like that. 

But you still will anyway. You can allow yourself that. 

He makes a tired little noise as he wakes up, taking in a deep inhale. “...did we really—” 

“Yeah. Um. —wait! I should, um, probably brush my teeth first, my breath probably smells horrible right now, sorry—” 

“Oh. No, it’s fine, I should too—” 

“Yeah, I think I’ll go back to my room too; I don’t want doctor suspecting anything, ah—” 

“Oh— okay,” he releases his hand. 

It’s strange to have things like these— little snippets and moments that remind you to just have fun and be a kid. For years— maybe your whole adolescent experience so far— every day hailed with it a new matter to tend to and worry about, and every day you subconsciously wondered if you were wasting your life away, doing nothing but fantasise of a faraway fancy in which you could use the only potential you had for something. 

But who knew that it was so simple, yet so profound: that the excitement and memories that you yearned for could be obtained just from wanting to do so? That if you wanted to do something, you could just up and do it? 

You like it, though. The paralysing, dizzying feeling of it all, breaths caught in your throat and you can’t say anything without stuttering. The last time you’d felt it, it was Yuuji: you’d had yourself emotionally constipated to the point you choked it all up within you, toned things down and muted the intensity of it all before you even felt it. But it was fun then, and now this is much better. It would seem delusional to hope for anything else. There’s not much of a fantasy for you to look to and put yourself into a deluge of daydreams about, but for once you want to feel something without the implications. That must be what being a teenager is like— you’d seen it time and time again in movies, with cliques and girlfriends and gossip sessions, but you’d never had the luxury to have them yourself and be a girl like that. So this must be what it’s like, at least a semblance of it, with its fun and frivolities and feelings straight from familiar flicks. 

Not quite the time to put a name to it just yet, but it’s fun. At least, you can do it a little longer. It feels like a breath of fresh air after chaining yourself down like an anchor to the seabed. 

You rush to the door. “I’ll see you later? For breakfast,” you try to smile as calmly as you can while you turn back to look at him again. 

Thank goodness Dr Ieiri wakes up at eight whenever there isn't much work for her to tend to. 

You set a mission for yourself: hold Megumi’s hand again at least once in your high school career. 

Now that’s how to live without regrets, be a teenager, and have fun. 

Are you being delusional? 

You don’t know what Fushiguro Megumi is to you now, because ‘friend’ doesn’t sum it up well enough, ‘stranger’ doesn’t do the two of you your deserved justice, classmates isn’t the actual term, and ‘boyfriend’ is way too far from the truth. 

So to have dreams like that; thoughts like that, you think as you brush your teeth, you’re probably making a fool of yourself again. 

There’s something going on here and you don’t know what it is. And even if you’d told yourself you were fine with it, you don’t know how long everything else will be. 

It makes you feel like an idiot. 

But in your head you're filled with thoughts and, for a lack of a better term, hindrances. Did he sleep well? Do friends do that? Or was it just the two of you who’d do that? Was there even any meaning behind it all, any implications on your relationship due to this? This way you’d drive yourself insane before you could even get to breakfast. 

Did he like it, though? Could he have liked it, the sight of you sleeping next to him? Of vulnerability? No, he couldn’t, right? Yet, if he did, then—

You needed to calm down. 

(What about the letter?)

Maybe this was adrenaline: you’d run and take a few bites of breakfast before anyone else did, heading back to your room after you had done so. This way, nobody would see you. (You weren’t calm enough to do this, what made you think, in your sleep-deprived mind, that you’d be mature enough to handle this the next morning?) 

Just as you’re planning strategies to spend the whole day holed up in your room and avoid contact with anyone for it all, there’s a knock on your door. 

“Took so much to talk to the dad alone—” he says, his voice muffled as he speaks to someone else, “I could never stand that old geezer! If he’s like that I’m glad I never had to know how much worse his wife is.” 

It’s Gojo, you can tell. There’s a slight mocking tone in the way he does everything, in the way he says and laughs about the most out-of-pocket shit ever— this is one of those times, because you can almost hear what you think is a feral maniac with the voice of an idol laughing like a loon as he bangs against your door as if he’s trying to kill it. 

“You probably shouldn’t hit it so hard.” Dr Ieiri’s voice. 

You open the door. “Yes?” 

“He’s saying that you should come as backup, and I thought it would help you be put on the spot. It’ll teach you how to operate with clarity as you work,” Dr Ieiri explains. 

“Besides, you won’t even need to help that much. It’s just that this way, you’ll be able to do so if it’s needed while we’re here to guide you. Think of a baby taking its first steps with the help of its parents. If it gets dangerous for them, I’ll step in and you can heal them, but if you can’t heal them enough, we’ll just bring them back to Shoko,” Gojo cheerfully adds. Dr Ieiri nods along with him. 

“Ah… okay.” Your first “actual” lesson as an “apprentice”, then. 

“But first, you should change,” Gojo tells you, handing you a set of clothes, “Here. It’s a spare standard uniform that we keep for special cases. Now you can match with Megumi!” 

Your eyes widen, unsure of whether to laugh nervously or slap him or dash in the opposite direction— shawty a runner, she a track star.  

“I’m so sorry that he’s like this,” Dr Ieiri goes. Joking or not, she’s right. You’re sorry she’s dealt with him for so long, too. 

“...thanks.” 

“Don’t bully my student, Satoru,” Dr Ieiri orders, and you kind of like the sound of your new title. 

You wonder how Gojo got used to teleporting with his cursed technique, but you suppose that it comes with the innate ability to switch from one scene to another so rapidly without feeling at least a little sick— like how the shift from the quiet of the dormitories to the bustle outside of Harajuku has you feeling right now. The brightness of the summer sunlight feels like an intrusion as Gojo sets you down and you open your eyes again. 

“Wow.” 

“Oh, it’s [Name]!” 

Megumi looks away. He’s probably embarrassed to hell and back right now— angry at you, even, maybe. You weren’t sure anymore; you couldn’t even think. You try to let the heat rising up to your face subside without fanning it, steadying yourself beside Gojo, swearing that you’d like to be invisible just this once. 

“Sorry for the wait! I had to take up a call. I brought [Name] over here for backup too to get a grasp of the on-field experience.” Gojo says, waving at them, “Oh! Your uniform made it in time.” 

“Yeah! It fits great! Though I noticed it’s slightly different from Fushiguro’s. Mine has got a hood.”

It does fit him, you think, as you look at Yuuji. It looks better on him than it did when he sent you pictures of it over text. It’s easier to look at him now than Megumi. 

“That’s because the uniforms can be customised upon request.”

“Huh?” Yuuji tilts his head to the side, “But I never put in any requests.” 

“You’re right!” Gojo smiles, “I was the one who put in the custom order.” 

“Huh… oh. Well, cool!” 

“Be careful,” Megumi goes, “Gojo has a habit of doing that kind of stuff. So why are we meeting up here in Harajuku?” 

“Because,” Gojo clarifies, “That’s what she asked for.” 

“Oh!” Yuuji starts as the four of you walk out of the station, “You’re wearing the uniform too, [Name]. Looking good!” 

“Really? Thanks. I mean, I like the skirt. The uniform makes me feel like a fancy princess in a fancy school or something, but the skirt looks a little like it belongs to an elegant office lady.” 

“Uh, yeah,” Megumi follows, “You… look good. In the uniform, I mean.” 

You force out a laugh— “Haha, uh… you too. I mean, everyone would look good with these uniforms, right?” Wow… 

“...I guess so,” Megumi replies, looking in the other direction. 

If you see Gojo stifling his laughter in front of you, no you don’t. 

“We- we should get popcorn. I read online that said you could get really tasty popcorn at one of the shops in Takeshita Street.” 

“Yay, popcorn!” Yuuji exclaims, “I want some!” 

“Sure,” Gojo chuckles, “The shop’s pretty near here anyway. This is your guys’ first time in Harajuku, right, [Name] and Yuuji?” 

“Ah… yeah, and now that I think about it, Yuuji had never been out of Sendai until recently, actually. Right?” 

“Yeah, but I thought you’d have been to Harajuku before.” 

“I mean, I used to live in Tokyo, but I didn’t really move around. I think the most famous place I’ve been to is Shinjuku-Gyoen. Really pretty garden…” 

“Oh… then we should go around Tokyo one of these days!” 

“Yeah,” you smile, “We should! But you could spend a whole week exploring and you still wouldn’t see all of it,” you remark, “It’s a good idea, though.” 

“Fushiguro, wanna come along?” 

“Uh, sure…” Megumi goes, avoiding eye contact with you. You do the same. 

“...hey, is everything okay between the two of you? How come you’re so shy with each other all of a sudden?” 

“H-huh? Ah, no, no, it’s okay.” 

“You said ‘no’ twice. You usually only repeat words like that when you’re really worried about something,” Yuuji says. Curse his affinity for knowing you. 

“But it’s fine, though. Don’t worry.” 

“Uh… yeah. What [Name] said.” 

“You sure?” Yuuji asks again, a bit concerned. “Okay, then.” 

The rest of the walk mostly goes in silence— Yuuji excitedly heads for things to buy, from funky accessories to buckets of snacks. By the time it’s over and all of you are near the 400 yen corner, he’s decked out in all the Tokyo tourist gear, there’s popcorn in his hands, and sunglasses with frames spelling out “ROOK” on his face. (Maybe because he’s a rookie?)

There’s a well-dressed girl in front of you— you wonder if it’s her, but she isn’t wearing the uniform, so it probably isn’t— and a man most likely bald and wearing a wig with his black-and-white business suit. “Well, hello, there!” the man says to her, “Are you on the clock right now?” 

“No, not right now,” she replies. 

“That’s great! You see, I’m looking for potential models. That’s what I do! Would you be interested?” 

He’s scouting for models? 

There’s a sliver of hope in you that he looks at you next and asks you that question. You’re sure it isn’t going to happen, but you suppose you would like being told you were pretty by having a job associated with people who were— there was no chance, though. In Tokyo, the vast metropolis that it is, there are so many with better looks; better faces, prettier hair, nicer bodies— or people who dress better, walk more confidently; people who are adequate in all the ways you aren’t. 

The thought slightly shocks you, in reality— you haven’t thought about how you may not be able to compare with others since the time when you really did realise that Yuuji would never like you (not in that way, at least, and it still hurts to think about it). You never thought you’d feel that way again, and you never thought you would have to be surprised by such thoughts that had been brought in by something akin to envy or jealousy. 

“I’m in a hurry right now,” the girl denies. 

At least she probably knows just how beautiful she is. 

“Hey, you!” another girl calls. This one is just as beautiful— prettier than you, with brown (probably dyed) hair, and pretty brown eyes to match. She’s wearing the same uniform as you save for some titivations at the skirt, and she looks way better in it than you do. “What about me?” she asks, pointing at herself, “For that modelling gig. Hey, I’m asking what you think about me.” 

She’s so confident, it’s so cool… 

“Oh, well uh… I’m in a hurry at the moment,” the man says. Little bitch boy. 

“What the hell?” she asks, holding the man by the collar, “Don’t run, come out and say what you think!” 

“Wait, she’s the one we have to go and talk to? This is real embarrassing,” Yuuji says. 

Megumi mutters under his breath, “Yeah? So are you.” 

“I think she’s an icon,” you express. 

Gojo waves at her, amused, “Hey, we’re over here!” 

The girl slams the locker door shut after she places her backpack— a really tiny, cute pink one— into its pit of shopping bags. Probably to buy pretty clothes. She’d look really good in them. 

“Right, so now we have our three students! Oh— [Name] here isn’t really a student, by the way, I’ll explain later,” Gojo informs the pretty girl, “I’d like you to meet—” 

“Kugisaki Nobara. Be honoured, boys,” she says, stance confident, “I’m your group’s girl.” 

She’s so cool.

Oh, she’s judging them, you think as she stares at the boys. 

“I’m Itadori Yuuji. I’m from Sendai!” 

“Fushiguro Megumi.” 

“Ugh,” she lets out, “This is what I get to work with? Great, just my luck.” 

“She took one look and sighed— that can’t be good,” Yuuji says. 

“Are we going somewhere from here?” Megumi asks. 

“Well, we do have all three—” 

“All four—” Megumi interjects. 

“Ack— no, no, Megumi, I’m not a student, hold on—” You don’t want to be something other than a ghost, not right now, because then you’ll have to deal with whatever you’ve done in the last twenty-four hours that you’d rather beat around the bush and eventually forget about than anything. 

“Okay, we do have all four of you together, and since three of you kids are from the countryside, that means…” he pauses for effect— were you really “from” the countryside, though, if you’d moved around so much that you had no sure idea where your roots were? “...we’re going to Tokyo!” 

You and Megumi watch as Kugisaki and Yuuji chant the city name over and over in unison before arguing over where to head to. But this is Gojo— so there may be a catch somewhere that you just haven’t found yet. 

Megumi looks as annoyed as ever, much like the expression his younger self used to have when his eyebrows crinkled in exasperation from your antics. 

“If you quiet down, I’ll announce our destination,” Gojo begins, and the newly formed pair quiet down, “Roppongi!” 

It’s probably just something like an abandoned building in Roppongi, not Roppongi in all of its glamour itself. 

It’s an abandoned building in Roppongi. 

Gojo explains the situation after Kugisaki and Yuuji’s outrage— “There’s a big cemetery nearby. That, plus an abandoned building, and you’ve got a curse.” 

Kugisaki stops her raging when she finds out that Yuuji is still learning about how curses are formed. “Wait, hold up here. He didn’t even know that yet?” 

“To be honest…” Megumi starts to explain. 

She looks horrified after. 

(If you could, though, if you were anything other than a ghost right now— you’d tell her of how selfless and brave Yuuji is, of how incredible he is that he stopped at nothing to help his friends. You’d tell her that this was what made liking him as easy as breathing air.) 

Before the two of them head into the building, Gojo hands Yuuji a cursed tool— you’d never actually seen one before. You wonder if he’ll be able to wield it well enough: you know he has it covered, but you’re still worried about him anyway. (You always are.) 

And he gives Yuuji a challenge, too, though it’s more like an ultimatum. “Don’t let Sukuna out, okay?” 

Soon the three of you sit down near the building— there’s a block of concrete that you wonder why it was placed there for, and Gojo gestures for Megumi and you to sit down there. 

“Hey, you should be sitting here. I’m fine with standing.” 

“Nah, just take a seat. I’ve got to be on standby anyway.” 

“But you’re the teacher. You should get a better seat. And I’m not injured like Megumi, so I’m fine with standing.” 

“Pft,” he snorts, “You think I actually care about that sort of stuff?” 

You pause. “I… guess not. Thank you. Sorry again.” 

Gojo squats down instead, only his feet on the floor. “See? It’s better this way. Just you and Megumi in your own little world—”

“—please stop.” 

Megumi turns away from you again in embarrassment. 

“Anyway…ah, Kugisaki is really pretty,” you state, “And she seems really strong. I’m still worried, though. What if the curse inside is stronger than anticipated…” 

“...I think I’ll go in too,” Megumi says, “Someone needs to keep an eye on Itadori, right?” 

“You should rest and let your injuries heal, though. I mean, I could help you with that, but I’m supposed to wait for their injuries first—” 

“Well, the one we’re testing this time is Nobara,” Gojo highlights, “That Yuuji… he’s got some screws loose: he’s fearless— these things take the form of terrifying creatures who try to kill him, yet the guy has no hesitation at all. And he doesn’t have the familiarity with curses that you have. We’re talking about a boy who used to live a normal high school life. By now you’ve seen plenty of sorcerers and you’ve seen them give up because they couldn’t conquer their fear or disgust, right?” he explains to Megumi. 

He’s right, though. For someone who had no idea what curses were just a bit more than a week ago, it’s amazing how he can acclimatise himself to such a new life so quickly. When you’d first learned about curses and jujutsu sorcerers, the only reason your life stayed that way was because actually becoming a victim of it seemed like merely a faraway hypothetical, something that couldn’t affect you— up until your father revealed his cursed technique and you exorcised that curse in the store a while after. That was when the ghastly figure of reality that was jujutsu society reared its head and pricked you with its cold finger. As happy as you were after you’d exorcised it, you could feel that empty pit forming in your gut— you did it, thank goodness, but what now? And as your heart raced while you helped that lady, you didn’t address it. 

You supposed the benefit of your position was not having to at all. 

“Hasn’t Kugisaki already dealt with curses before, though?” 

“As we know, curses are born from human minds, so their strength in numbers grows in proportion to the population,” Gojo teaches, “Do you think Nobara understands? Tokyo curses are of a different level than those in the countryside.” 

The curse you handled before would be on the weaker side, then. “In what way?” you ask. 

“Their cunning— monsters that have gained wisdom will force cruel choices upon you where the weight of human life hangs in the balance. [Name], when you fought that curse last time, did it seem to be sentient or self-aware?” 

“...I mean, I guess it seemed like it couldn’t really see the other person there. It was just me and the lady who worked there, so… no.” 

“Well, to put it into perspective, [Name], the curse, had it been one from the city instead, could have done something like take the lady hostage to sort of threaten you and keep itself at large. So this test is to see if Nobara is crazy enough.” 

It wouldn’t matter, though— you were the healer, the medic, the doctor. Whatever level of martial prowess you were supposed to have didn’t concern you. 

“And speaking of tests, [Name]…” Gojo begins, “One of these days, you’ll have to get one too. As someone about to take Shoko’s role, this is your first test as a medic— every mission you get sent to will be a test in that aspect. But as a sorcerer…” 

“Hey. I’m not an actual sorcerer, though, remember? And you should speak with Dr Ieiri first if you want me to expel curses like one and all.” 

“Well, I didn’t speak to Dr Ieiri. I spoke to your dear old dad!” 

“What?” 

“Took a lot of convincing, but—”

“He didn’t tell me anything about this. I’m sorry— I know you just treated me well and gave me a better seat, but why didn’t you think to ask me first? It’s not like I ever really wanted to fight, either. And they were on-board with that. It’s just— why would you change that?” 

Megumi sighs exasperatedly, “Seriously, what is this?” 

“Yeah! What is this, Gojo?” 

“Okay, okay: I’ll share a secret with the two of you, then. You’ve always been tied together, so there’s no use in me telling either of you just to not tell the rest. Keep it between yourselves, okay? Think of it as another part of your shared bond,” Gojo says. 

You purse your lip. (Your mother did that a lot. There is nothing you can do that your parents are not entwined in even now; the roots of them have been planted so deeply into your life, ingrained so deeply into your psyche.) “Look, I just want you to answer me, Gojo. Why did you do it?” Why ruin a consensus that took years of compromise and arguments to settle on? 

“...because you can. I mean, it’s your philosophy to be like that, right? If you have the ability to help someone, do it.” 

“I mean, in essence, yeah, but what kind of point are you trying to make here?” 

“That I think with that mindset you’d make a pretty good teacher. You know,” he sighs with a faux furtiveness, “Your father had that same mindset, with his strength and his intelligence and his kindness, and he was one of the best teachers you could ever have. He wasn’t an actual teacher, but… he was the kind of geezer who people thought were wise and would seek guidance from. A great guy, actually. But to cut to the chase, what I’m saying is that I want you to be a sorcerer who knows how to fight, too, instead of just the doctor in the corner that you believe will be the peak of your potential. I think you can do better.” 

“So? I mean, as bad as it sounds, I don’t want to.” 

“That’s why I just want you to try. I want you to have that test and become an actual student here. Shoko doesn’t mind you not becoming one because she thinks they won’t send you on missions if you’re considered ‘too valuable’ by the higher-ups. But I want you to become my student— I’ll give you time to think about it, but look at this way: you have abilities that exceed what you think of yourself— imagine how it sounded to other sorcerers when they heard of you back then, a thirteen-year-old with a late-blooming cursed technique grasping control of it instantly and defeating a grade two curse, even healing the person left behind. Face it: you’re technically a prodigy. The only thing that separates you from others like you is your humanity that troubles you with a reluctance to believe you can actually do anything.” 

Harsh. “...I’ll think about it. But why spring it up on me now?” 

“Maybe you know too little. O-kay, children, listen carefully. Little [Name]’s father would be a relatively famous sorcerer just because of his partial position as a healer, right? For all your life, you were sheltered and protected by your parents who never wanted you to enter into the jujutsu world. I even spoke to your mother herself, remember? Told her that you’d probably be a window but that you could still use cursed energy. You hadn’t shown signs of a cursed technique yet, but we hadn’t considered that it was because prior to that you never had to use it— the countryside areas you grew up in were practically devoid of any curses that your mother and father wouldn’t have already killed themselves. So, with your father’s quote-en-quote ‘fame’, what makes you think that people wouldn’t have wanted you as a jujutsu sorcerer from the start?” 

Just like that the worlds in your head have had worlds of meanings added to them. 

“So? What do you think, [Name]?” 

You turn to Megumi. When you’re backed out into a corner, your eyes scrambling for a place to put them, you turn to Megumi. 

His hand moves hesitantly to your shoulder, ghosting over it like a teapot over a china cup. “...whatever it is, you’ll do well. Gojo just likes to pull stuff like this.” 

It feels warm. You won’t be in trouble if you don’t run away from this. It’s nice. It’s calm, his steady hand on your shoulder as your heart feels like it’s about to take a nosedive. “...thanks.” 

“Give me some time, Gojo.” 

Yuuji and Kugisaki come back with a little boy in tow. 

“Ah— you’re back!” 

“No injuries, [Name]! We’re all scratch-free! The kid has a bruise on his knee, though.” 

“Oh. Can I see it, please?” you ask the boy, kneeling to his height. 

The boy pulls the left hem of his pants up, revealing a fresh violet blot on his skin. 

“Would you be okay if I touched your knee? I can take the bruise away for you.” 

He nods and soon it’s gone, his skin pristine and new. “Woah,” he goes, “Thank you! Was that magic?” he asks, eyes full of childlike wonder. 

You giggle. “Something like that. Could you keep it a secret?” you make the best welcoming and kid-friendly grin you can as you place your index against your lips. 

“Okay!” he whisper-shouts, smiling wide. 

Kugisaki and Yuuji rest by the building while Gojo, Megumi and you bring the kid back home. 

“You know, I wanted to say, big sister,” he starts, looking up at you, “You’re really pretty!” 

(So cute!!) “Ah, really? That other girl is really pretty too, though.” 

“You too! You could be like a model on a poster!” he exclaims, “Oh wait— I live over there! Thanks again!” he points to the turning on the left. 

“Haha, thank you,” you reply as Gojo waves at him, “Take care of yourself!” 

“I will! Bye-bye, big sister!” 

“Are you hungry?” you ask Gojo and Megumi. “Ack— I feel lightheaded.”

Megumi turns to you in an instant— “You didn’t eat enough for breakfast?” 

“Guess so,” you reply, “I should be fine, though. I think I just had something on my mind the whole day and I couldn’t feel the hunger or something.” 

He whips his phone out. 

“Oh, there’s a famous tonkatsu restaurant back in Omotesando,” you suggest as he scrolls through restaurant options. “I think Yuuji may want to eat something like steak, though, and I don’t know what Kugisaki likes. Is there anything you want in particular?” 

“I’m fine with anything,” he says, “But it’s Gojo’s money we’re going to be using, so we should probably make the most of it.” 

“Mm… we can eat beef steak in Ginza, I think… ah— Yuuji’s grandfather always called it beefteki. I’m surprised I can still remember.” 

27-6-2018 

“Hi. It’s one in the morning, Megumi,” you greet him as he stands outside your room’s door, “Can’t sleep?” 

“...yeah,” he admits sheepishly, “Sorry about this.” 

He sits down on the bed. “Nah, it’s fine. It’s like we’re going to keep doing this,” you start, “Our special ritual. Something like that. I mean, we help each other in this way, right?” 

Your hand strays upward a little, nervous as it inches toward his shoulder. 

He brings your hand there and places his own hand on top of it. “Yeah,” he replies contentedly, “But I… wanted to ask,” Megumi begins, “What Gojo said. Are you going to become a student?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, looking at how things are going now, I may. It seems like things are leaning more towards me being a full-fledged sorcerer. Haven’t had the time to think about it.” 

He seems to pause for a moment, to reconsider something one last time like a record in his head. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“I should take you to see Tsumiki first.” 

You nearly gasp. “She wants to see me?” After all this time? “I’m happy, but… wouldn’t she be busy, though?” 

“No… I mean… you really should take a look at her first. Then you’ll see what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry, but I just— I really should have told you sooner.

“Told me what?” you frown. Learning of this feels a bit like restarting and going back to square one somehow. 

“I’m sorry, can we just… do something else for now? Just… please be patient with me a little longer. I’m sorry you have to do that so much.” 

“…okay.” 

You wake up to his figure being illuminated shyly by the light of dawn. In the tiny bubble that the two of you share— of intertwined paths, secrets, lives— and the sensation of waking from a late night, you realise just how much you want to stay there forever. 

This morning, you don’t rush back to your room and hastily go through your routine. All you do for a while, for what feels like it lasts for a century yet lasts for too little time, is look at him, at his steady, quiet breathing as his eyes are shut comfortably tight.

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 65

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Tuesday, March 2nd; 4:50 p.m. - in Class  

I tap my foot while staring at my watch. The end is near. Like most days, we finish with Management, with Mr. Johnson. There's not a single day we don't see him anyway. Today, our two hours were interesting. For once, I more or less understood what we were working on. We even ended with exercises that I finished before most of my classmates. He announced that we would correct them in the next class, and they would count as homework if we hadn't finished. That's good news. I've already completed my other assignments, so besides having my exercises checked in this class, I won't have anything to do. There are still a few minutes left, so I wait, tapping my foot impatiently. It’s dragging on. Only five minutes have passed, and ten remain before the bell rings.

"Have you already finished?" Alessia murmurs.

"Mm-hmm."

"You're starting to outdo me," she jokes.

I giggle softly, shrugging. I'm lucky to understand things easily. Lucy definitely had something to do with it because, before, Management and I were not on good terms.

"Could you stop tapping your foot?"

"Sorry."

I stop immediately. In truth, I’m eager because I plan to meet Lucy after this last class. I’ve noticed that toward the end of the year, people are much calmer, so it’s the perfect time to spend time with her. She doesn't have to look after as many students anymore. Of course, she has spent a lot of time focusing on me, but I know she’s been responsible for several first-year students. When I asked her about it again on Sunday, she said she’d released many after two months since they weren’t rebels—like me. As for the others, she explained that Wiegman reassigned the toughest cases to Ingrid when I arrived so Lucy could prioritize me. She was right to do that, and I’m grateful. I admit that I must have been quite a handful when I arrived. I often regret being so cold and difficult. Mr. Johnson interrupts my thoughts by standing up from his chair, catching the attention of several students, including Alessia, who was still working on the exercises. It’s surprising because, according to my watch, there are still five minutes left. I doubt he’s going to let us go early.

"Alright, we’ll stop for today. You can pack your things, and as I mentioned earlier, the rest is due tomorrow. I’ll check that everything’s been done."

"Are you letting us out early?" a student asks.

"No, I have something to discuss with you."

Several groans echo throughout the room at this news.

"Yes, yes, I know. It’s so boring being stuck here with me," he mocks. "If I finish what I have to say quickly, we can renegotiate," he adds.

Strangely, everyone quickly starts packing up. He waits until they’re done to get everyone’s attention.

"Alright. I wanted to let you know that your class has been granted a field trip. We’ll be visiting a nearby industrial company to show you how it operates."

He begins distributing papers to everyone.

"Obviously, I expect this exercise to benefit you, so attached, you’ll find a company profile of the place we’ll visit. Some details are missing, so it’ll be up to you to find them."

"How are we supposed to do that without access to computers?" one student asks.

"I know you're allowed to have computers in your rooms," he replies. "And if you don't have one, there are computers available in the library."

The student grimaces slightly. I imagine he’s one of those who don’t have one. I haven’t had many chances to go to the library since I spend a lot of time in Lucy’s office, but I know it’s not a popular place. Few people like going there. They’d much rather spend time in their rooms or the common room.

"Do we have to fill out the second sheet too?" another student asks.

"No, that one is for the field trip. I expect you to take notes and complete this small questionnaire. I’ll collect the sheets to ensure you’ve done the work, and then we’ll go over them in the next class after the trip."

"Will it just be you supervising?"

A small laugh escapes him. His news has managed to excite everyone. Outings must not be granted often here. Usually, we’re confined within the school’s walls.

"In addition to me, your Management teacher and two instructors will accompany you. You’ll be divided into four groups to keep you focused and well-supervised."

"Can we choose who to go with?"

"Definitely not. The groups are already assigned, and no changes will be possible. I expect you to respect my choices. The supervisors will have a list of students in their group, so you won’t be able to cheat. All you’ll achieve by trying is wasting everyone's time and earning yourself a punishment."

He says this as he walks past me. He looks at me intensely. I feel like he has an issue with me ever since he started seeing me in Lucy’s office. If only he knew what I was thinking… I smile to provoke him. We both know I’ll be with Lucy, and he doesn’t seem to like the idea. I had noticed his displeasure when Lucy made the request. He ignores me and walks down my row to return to his desk. The bell rings just then.

"Alright, I’ll let you go. Don’t lose the papers, please. I’ll inform you of the trip date in the next class. Have a great rest of your day."

Having already packed our bags, most of us head straight for the door. Alessia and I follow calmly. Leah and Alba, on the other hand, have already rushed out with the first group.

"Did you know about this?" Alessia asks. "You were one of the few who didn’t react."

"I did, yeah. He suggested it to L—uh, Bronze when I was in her office," I catch myself.

"Oh. So, she’s the one accompanying us?"

"Yeah, along with Engen."

I have to think before I speak. It’s so complicated to use their titles when I know their first names and spend time with them outside of class.

"I see… Well-informed, huh?" she teases softly. "Do you know which group you’re in?"

"I only know I’ll be with Bronze," I shrug. "She used her position to make that happen," I admit with a small smile. "But I can’t tell you yet if we’ll be together."

"Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait."

"I’ll try to find out if we’re in the same group once she has her list. I can’t guarantee anything. She can be pretty unpredictable sometimes. And for all I know, she might not get it until the day of the trip."

"Thanks, that’s nice of you. Are you going to meet her now?"

"Yep. I’ve done my homework, but I’d like to review, and it’s the only place where I know I’ll have some peace and quiet outside of my room. Except in my room, I tend to get a bit too distracted…"

"Yeah, I totally get that," she laughs. "You don’t have to explain yourself, you know."

"No, but… You get it. I don’t want you thinking I’m ditching you for her or anything like that. I’m just really focused on exams. I can’t afford to fail this year."

"I understand. She’s doing a great job. I’ve noticed that you’ve been following classes better lately. It’s different from the beginning of the semester," she teases.

I laugh, nodding. It’s true; things were different back then. Since I didn’t understand anything, I would zone out easily. I’ve made a lot of progress since I returned. Lucy advised me to ask my teachers for summaries of previous years’ classes. Of course, they gave them to me, and I plan to start studying them today. I hope Lucy will have time for me. I never know what she has planned for the day.

"Alright, see you later."

"Yes, have a good afternoon."

We part ways at the bottom of the stairs in the hall. I knock on the slightly closed office door and enter. I’m surprised to find another student in my usual spot in front of Lucy. She doesn’t seem to have noticed me yet, as she’s filling out a form with him. So, I turn to Ingrid and wave hello.

"Hey Ona," she greets me with a smile. "How are you? »

"—Good, and you?"

"—Great."

Since classes resumed, we haven't had many opportunities to see each other. It's a shame because I really like her.

"—What are you doing here?" my girlfriend asks me.

"—Hey... Uh... Well, I finished classes. I have some reviewing to do, but I can come back later if you're busy."

The guy sitting across from her looks at me strangely. To him, I must look like an alien. I must be the only one who willingly comes to my supervisor's office. His face doesn't ring a bell, but judging by his appearance, I'd say he's younger than me. He must be a first-year student under Lucy's supervision. To get my attention, my girlfriend clears her throat.

"—I'll be a little while. He just got here. Can you go over this with her, Engen? Or do you have something else to do?" she asks her friend.

"—No, it's fine," she replies, gesturing for me to sit with her. "But I can't guarantee I'll be as good as your supervisor," she teases me.

"—I'll make do with what I have, what can I say."

She laughs at my joke before ordering me to take out my things. I quickly realize that she intends to be as serious as Lucy, which suits me perfectly. I need that authority to make sure I stay focused.

"—Is that Ona Batlle?" murmurs the student facing Lucy.

I turn around amused to watch them. I immediately meet Lucy's threatening gaze. I quickly understand that I should stay out of it.

"—We have something to do, don't you think?" suggests Lucy.

"—I've never seen her before," he continues.

"—Do you want me to let you go? I can always change my mind, you know."

"—Come on, let's get to work," Ingrid pulls me toward her.

"—Um..."

"—What do you want to work on?"

"—Management and accounting."

"—Wonderful," she murmurs. "All my favorites... She owes me for this."

I chuckle softly. First, I put away the sheets my teacher just handed out. Since we'd already packed everything, no one had bothered to put them in their bags, myself included. Then I take out my famous summary notes.

"—These are the courses from previous years. I need to work on them," I explain to her.

"—Let me see."

It wasn't Ingrid who asked me, but Lucy. I look up to see her behind me. I hand her my notes without thinking.

"—You finally took my advice. It was about time. Here, have her do some exercises; I have a site you'll love," she tells Ingrid as she passes behind her desk.

She types something on the keyboard, and I take the opportunity to glance at the student. He was just looking at me. He immediately turns back to his work. He's working on a worksheet, from what I can see. I wonder what it could be.

"—Ona," my girlfriend calls me.

"—Yes?" I say, turning back to her.

I then notice some sheets in front of me and the printer running. I feel like I'm going to have a blast... Especially given the number of worksheets that are coming out.

"—What's this site?"

"—I found it when I had some free time. There are lots of practice exercises; I thought it would be cool for you."

"—Awesome, and there are even answer keys for us," Ingrid rejoices.

I roll my eyes with a small smile. Unlike Lucy, this must not be her area of expertise if she's reacting like that. She seems to dislike it. I wonder what she studied, actually. Will she stay here her whole life? That's also a question I won't hesitate to ask Lucy, or even Ingrid directly.

"—Alright, get to work. I'll take over once Kyle leaves."

She pats my shoulder before returning to her desk.

"—So, back to us. Are you almost done?"

I stop listening to them and focus on the sheets to see what they are. They're exercises from chapters I didn't study in the first two years. The number of them makes me lose motivation. It's not really something I enjoy either, but well, I have no choice but to work now. Ingrid mocks my expression as she brings me the rest of the stack. I feel like crying seeing the whole pile.

"—Do I have to do all of this?" I complain desperately.

"—Of course not. We just printed everything at once. Do the ones you feel like, but it would be best to work on as many as possible in the coming months."

I relax a bit. She's right; I still have a few months to do everything. I nod and take the small stack before starting the first worksheet. The exercise seems short and simple, so I might as well start with easy things. I'll vary gradually until tonight with other, more difficult exercises. I start calmly, not rushing. I have barely finished one exercise that I've given to Ingrid when Kyle gets up from his chair.

"—Don't make me regret my choice, alright?"

"—Yes, I'll try."

"—No, you'll make sure you don't end up here again."

He doesn't respond, but I know he does when she says:

"—Go on, off you go."

I hear papers being gathered and a chair creaking. I'm forced to turn around to look at them again.

"—Thank you, Bronze..."

Our eyes meet for a moment as he heads toward the exit. He stops in front of the door to give me a gentle smile. I return it out of politeness.

"—You're famous here. I'm glad to have seen you at least once. I'm almost a fan of yours."

His comment earns him a smack on the head from Lucy. I laugh discreetly. That wasn't very smart of him.

"—I haven't signed the form yet, so you'd better leave before I change my mind."

That was all it took for the poor kid to flee the office. Lucy sighs while scribbling on the paper in front of her.

"—Well, you've started quite a movement too," comments Ingrid as I return to my exercises.

"—I didn't ask for anything," I reply, shrugging. "As long as it's in a good way, I don't care."

"—It's not especially in a good way," grumbles Lucy from her corner. "This one gave me quite a bit of work to set him straight, if you know what I mean."

"—Well, you just released him, didn't you?"

"—Lucy usually releases her students around December, or even January for the more headstrong ones," Ingrid tells me in a whisper.

"—Oh..."

I don't know what else to say. It's not like I encouraged these young people to act rebellious. I was too busy with myself to be concerned with others' behavior. I wasn't surprised that the young man who just left was one of the last rebels. He had an angelic face that I would describe as popular. That's certainly what he was before coming here. I jump when the office door slams. Lucy comes toward us and, with a hand gesture, asks me to push back my chair. I barely have time to do so before she sits on my lap. With her hand, she grabs my neck, and her lips capture mine firmly. I respond without flinching. I don't know why she's doing this, but I'm not going to complain. She's offering me more and more private contact, whereas she insisted at the beginning that we keep our distance. She finally sighs and settles against me so that her head rests against my shoulder.

"—Seems like someone had a long day."

"—Mm-hmm," she sighs. "I just released my last student."

"—No. You still have me."

She laughs softly, placing a kiss on my exposed neck. I've given up on my exercises since it's impossible to do anything in this position. I'm forced to hold Lucy to prevent her from slipping off my lap.

"—Naturally. You'll remain an exception until the end," she says.

"—That's for sure," I giggle. "Have you already told Wiegman that you won't be here next year?"

"—No," she murmurs. "I'm going to wait a bit before requesting a meeting."

"—No kidding. She's going to fall into depression when you go," Ingrid mocks. "You were her favorite. »

Lucy shrugs indifferently in response.

"You have to know what you want in life. Right?" she asks, sliding her hand under my sweater.

"Yeah," I murmur. "And what about you? Are you planning to stay here much longer?" I ask Ingrid.

"I don't know. Definitely next year, then we'll see."

"What did you study, if it's not too personal?"

"Social work," she replies. "I plan to seriously look for a job next year."

"I already told you, if you do your degree in sports, we could hire you with Jenni," Lucy says to her.

"I know, I know," she rolls her eyes. "I'll wait to see if your thing works before I commit," she teases.

"There’s no reason it won’t work," I defend.

She smiles mischievously but says nothing more. Lucy finally grabs the exercise I was working on.

"How's it going? Are you managing?"

"Not really," I mumble. "I'm feeling overwhelmed seeing all I have to review. I’m never going to make it."

"Don’t say that. I've never seen a student as hardworking as you," she says with a touch of amusement.

"It's only because you motivate me. Otherwise, trust me, I would've given up already."

"But you won’t give up. Otherwise, I’ll go on strike with kisses and cuddles," she threatens me. "That’d be silly, right before our one-month anniversary," she adds quietly.

I smile, knowing full well that our one-month anniversary is tomorrow. I've been thinking about it and planning our weekend since Monday with Mapi. She’s also celebrating her one-month anniversary with Ingrid. We have the upper hand, being in Barcelona.

"Seriously? Using that as leverage? That’s blackmail!"

"Is it working?" she asks with a mischievous grin.

"Of course. You're such a brat."

"Careful what you say. I can still use my rank to make you run laps outside."

She pinches my belly, which she had been caressing, making me squeal. I pout to show her I don't like it, even though I understand her reasons.

"No need to pull that face," she laughs, getting up.

She stretches in front of me. The position probably wasn’t very comfortable. Still, I would've liked her to stay a little longer. The warmth she created by cuddling against me is already fading. Unfortunately, she can't stay in that position forever, considering where we are.

"Grab your stuff and come with me."

"Now that I was so comfortably settled," I complain.

"You can stay here, but you’ll be all alone," Ingrid teases as she gets up too.

"Are you leaving?"

"Yep, I'm going for a walk to keep the peace," she says with a wink. "Don’t use it as an excuse to fool around."

I laugh, shaking my head. She hands my first paper back to Lucy, then leaves. Meanwhile, I switch positions. Lucy is already checking my work.

"I think we have some work to do," Lucy teases.

"Why do you say that?"

"Your exercises are far from correct," she laughs.

I groan in frustration, not even bothering to continue the previous exercise. I already know she’ll want to rework that part before moving on to the rest, and she’s right.

Tuesday, March 2nd; 8:30 PM – Ona and Alexia’s room.

"We haven’t seen much of you since the break ended."

Alexia throws this comment as we return to our room after dinner. To be honest, I would’ve preferred she bring it up another time. I’m exhausted. I could fall asleep right here. The pace is hard to get back into, and the revision sessions don’t help much with resting, as that’s all I’ve been doing.

"I know, sorry," I sigh, collapsing onto the bed.

"I overheard Alessia talking to her sister when she came back from class without you this afternoon. They think you’d rather spend time with your supervisor than with us, if you know what I mean."

Her tone is somewhat amused. I deduce she doesn’t think the same, thankfully. If even she starts judging me, I’m in trouble.

"I regret that they saw us at that convenience store. Now that they know, they think I prefer staying with Lucy. I told them it’s for study sessions. I even have proof if they need it."

My binder is full of exercises I do during evening sessions. If it were up to me, they’d all be in the trash.

"Well, apparently they think differently," she shrugs. "Don’t worry about it, let them talk. I just wanted to let you know."

"I doubt they’ll dare say anything to my face."

"I don’t think so either," she admits. "But who knows. At least now you’re prepared if it happens."

She closes the doors of her wardrobe, where she had been searching for her pajamas. Then, she turns and offers me a small, sympathetic smile. I wonder if she’s ever dealt with similar comments. Honestly, I’ve never asked her if anyone knows about her relationship with Jenni. Since I’ve been here, she mostly hangs out with me.

"I just think it might be a good idea to slow things down between you two here. You know how fast rumors spread."

"We’re not doing anything wrong," I sigh. "These study sessions were in place long before we got together. If they can’t understand that I want to pass my exam, that’s not my problem."

She nods, deciding to drop the subject. Instead, she heads to the shower. Meanwhile, I check in with Mapi about the weekend. Everything should be set now. We had already discussed it last week, just before she left. I still send her a message to make sure she’s booked everything. We have different plans, which is better. One-month anniversaries are meant to be enjoyed as a couple, after all. Now, I just need to make sure Lucy hasn’t planned anything. I’ll ask her tomorrow. Knowing her, she’s probably already planned something, but what? As for tomorrow, I’m pretty stuck. I don’t even have anything to give her, and I can’t really prepare something. My movements are being watched. The only thing I have to offer is a drawing that’s been lying at the bottom of my closet since Monday night. I feel almost foolish, considering this woman deserves all the love in the world. I just hope she’ll like the gesture... Anyway, it’s too late to plan anything else. When the shower stops running, I search for my things.

"It’s your turn," Ale says as she steps out of the bathroom, towel in one hand drying her hair, the hairdryer in the other.

"Thanks."

I grab a random pair of pajamas and some fresh underwear, then head to the bathroom. An idea sparks as I place my clothes on the counter next to the sink. I turn around and call out to Ale before she turns on the hairdryer.

"You’ve been in a long-term relationship—any ideas on what I could give Lucy for our one-month anniversary tomorrow?"

"Is that already tomorrow?" she asks in surprise.

"Mm-hmm... I did make her a drawing, but I feel silly only giving her that."

"Well, in your situation, it’s a bit tricky. Jenni always managed to plan things because she had more freedom than I did, but I have to admit I never gave her anything while we were here. I always made up for it when we saw each other outside."

I sigh and nod, a bit disappointed. I should’ve thought about it this weekend, though even then it would’ve been hard since we were at Lucy’s place.

"One month already," Ale whispers. "Time flies!"

"Yeah, no kidding," I giggle.

"When exactly was it? The night Korbin jumped on you?"

I wince but nod. I hate remembering that event. It feels so far away now and yet not that distant at all.

"Sorry," she grimaces, sensing it bothers me. "I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories."

"It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll hop in the shower. Maybe the water will help me come up with ideas for tomorrow."

"Good luck," she teases softly.

I return to the bathroom as Ale starts drying her hair. I was hoping this moment would help me brainstorm ideas, but it didn’t. I sigh, giving up on planning anything. I’ll make it up to her this weekend.

[vcnillazelda]

alive

simon riley x reader

summary: you almost die on a mission

tags: near death experience, angst with a happy ending, hospitals, hand holding, hurt/comfort, cuddles bc ik y’all crave it, f! reader, also very stubborn! reader, jealousy at the end but it’s not too bad

✞———————❖———————✞

your heart beats below his fingers and simon lets out a soft exhale. it’s not that he doubted your condition, he just needed to see it for himself. simon hadn’t gotten to visit you since the mission, but now you were in safe hands he could relax and sit beside you. his heart aches for you, and he clutches your hand tight. “i’m sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers, blinking. his mask feels stuffy in the warm room, yet he doesn’t care enough to remove it, even when the paint around his eyes begin to smudge and fade. you hum softly, head rolling towards him a little as your body shuffles to sink further into the cardboard-like mattress that was your hospital bed in the infirmary. simon sighs, running his fingers over your knuckles. you twitch a little, hand flexing under the feathery feeling of his touch, and simon lets up, not wanting to disturb you.

“simon..?” you mutter, voice thick with medication and sleep. “i’m here, doll.” he responds softly, and you hum. “hi, there.” you smile a little, not bothering to open your eyes due to the heavy lead feeling on them. “how do you feel?” simon asks, and you hum. “not too bad… i’m on some heavy meds.” your lips twitch upwards once more and simon huffs out a small laugh. “i can tell.” his hand squeezes yours, and you let out a soft exhale through your nose, body relaxing. “don’t get all depressed, si. it’s not my first time in here.” you state, and he hums. “i mean it, y’know.” you finally open your eyes, poking his forearm. “i know you do.” simon states, eyes soft and doe-like. “good. just because i got hurt, doesn’t mean you’re at fault. we all got separated, there’s nothing anyone could of done.” you reply, smiling a little.

there’s a small silence between you both, and yet it’s not uncomfortable. “you’re impossible, y’know that?” simon mutters after the silence fades with the sound of footsteps walking past. “i know.” you respond, closing your eyes once more as you settle beside him. with that, you fall asleep. simon stays by your side for as long as he can before the doctors kick him out, knowing full well he’d be back in the next day after every little job he had to do was settled.

simon comes back after his shower, which he took after training, his hair is damp under his hood and his actual mask is gone, leaving him in the balaclava he wears under it. you’re awake this time, yet relaxing as your fingers run over the bandages. “hello, sweetheart.” he mutters, and you open your eyes. “hi, simon.” the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him smile. “you need to rescue me, si. recovery is so boring.” you joke, going to sit up. simon gently pushes you back down, sitting on the chair beside you. “hey, now. recovery is important. i don’t want any lasting injuries on you, okay?” he mutters, and you sigh. “stop agreeing with everyone.” you roll your eyes but he can tell you’re joking because you break into a grin and kiss his fingers.

simon let’s you talk about things, noting every little ‘get well soon’ gift and card you had gotten. he has to get you one too… “so, yeah. that’s how i broke my arm on the first day of training.” you sigh, and he hums softly. “sounds rough…” simon sympathises, and you hum. you know better than to ask him for stories in return, anything he told you would be of his own accord when he was ready. “johnny dropped off some book, but you know how i am…” you trail off, and simon rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah. where is it?” he asks, and you point to the bedside table. “in the top drawer. thanks, si’.” you grin widely as he picks up the book, one he wasn’t familiar with, and opens the cover.

you had fallen sound asleep just after simon had finished reading the fifth chapter, and so he put the book down and lifted his mask a little to gently kiss your forehead. he doesn’t leave just yet, he had nothing else to do, and so simon sits and watches over you, keeping a close eye on your vitals and the machines around you. you seemed to be doing well, but simon knows how easily it would be for you to take a turn for the worst; he’d seen it before and truth be told, it terrified him.

simon gets the news that you’d flatlined then been resuscitated from johnny, and he drops his firearm, startling poor gaz who was trying to get some tips. he sprints through the base, ignoring the worried looks and anyone trying to stop him. barging into your room, simon sees price already there, arms crossed as he watches the doctor test your vision with a pocket light. “just keep following the light here, you’re doing well…” he mutters, watching your eyes carefully. “everything seems to be okay… that was a close call.” the doctor stands upright, and price speaks up. “do we have to send her home?” he asks, and you tense. “i don’t want to go home..!” you frown, but the doctor sighs. “if it continues to worsen you might have to.” he replies, and you sigh. “simon..!” you silently plead, plead for him to take your side, and yet he sighs too. “you should listen to them, they doctor’s right.” you frown at him, turning away. simon’s heart aches, yet price pats your shoulder gently. “don’t worry about it, kid. they’re just looking out for you.”

simon moves out of the way to let the two leave, sitting beside you. “hey..” he mumbles, gently grasping your hand. you don’t respond, clearly upset. simon wants to yell at something, someone, yet not at you, he’d never raise his voice at you. “please talk to me.” he begs, squeezing your hand a little. “…i don’t want to go home.” you mumble, and he nods a little. “i know, but if it gets serious you’ll have to go to an actual hospital.” simon responds, although he’s also dreading the idea. “how did this even happen?” he asks, and you shrug weakly. “i’m not sure… it just did- i went to take a nap and i woke up to a damn defibrillator shocking the life out of me.” you frown, leaning into him, head resting upon his broad shoulder. “how do you feel now?” simon asks, moving his hand from yours to rub your back. “my chest hurts and i feel dizzy… the doctor said it’s because i got zapped back to life.” you sigh, and he hums. “as long as you’re alright…”

“i want out of this damn room, simon.” you complain. two days had passed and you were on the up and up. “i know, doll.” he responds, waiting for you to be quiet so he could go back to reading the book you were quite interested in. you sigh, pulling his other hand up to your cheek. you’re pouting, and he sighs. “it’s not so bad, darling.” he mumbles, and you scoff. “it’s awful… i wanna go back to normal.” you reply, and he hums. “well, you’ve gotta get better first.” simon looks at you, and you crumble a little under his gaze. “okay, okay…” you surrender, falling quiet once more so he could continue reading.

simon sighs as he enters your room, glancing to your bed as he goes to close the door. you’re holding onto your iv, knees trembling as you stand. “poor timing…” you mumble as your lover immediately swoops over, sitting you down. “poor timing my arse, what the hell are you thinking?” he demands, and you sigh. “i’m bored, simon! i want to do anything else than lay in this damn bed all day!” you complain, and simon sighs. “i spoke to the doctor before coming in, okay? you’ll be out soon.” he assures you. “that’s what they said two weeks ago then i fucking died.” you snap, and simon flinches. “si’…” you trail off, voice small. “no, no… i get it. it’s hard.” he responds, sitting beside you on the bed. you frown, leaning into him. “i just wanna leave, simon…” you whisper, and he nods. “i know, doll. not too long now.”

weeks pass, and you’re increasingly bored. you’ve always been a soldier that enjoys inserting yourself into situations, especially during training. you were practical and many praised you for it. simon brings you whatever he can to keep your sanity in check, he even tries getting you to knit to try and involve you in something. you’re become more irate and upset with every day, so simon backs off a little, cutting down his working hours on base to bring you books- only to read them to you, but it was something. so, when the day the doctor states you’re fit to leave back onto base, you’re elated, a wide grin on your face as you snatch up your belongings. simon keeps his hand close in case you fell, still unsure of you leaving early, but the doctor pulled him aside and stated it was just for your mental health and that he’d keep a close eye on you.

you sigh heavily as simon helps you into your shared room with the lieutenant, watching you flop onto your bed with a grimace. “careful. i don’t need you going back in so early.” he mutters, painfully aware of the stitches on your side which trailed to your stomach. “yeah, yeah. i’d rather get sliced up and nearly bleed out again before i go back into that damn infirmary.” simon sighs at your blunt words, sitting beside you. “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that again, yeah?” he mumbles, and you soften up. “sorry…” you reply, muttering. “it’s okay…” simon sighs, letting you tug him so you were both lay on your bed. “let me see your pretty face…” you mumble, taking off his mask for him. simon smiles, kissing your lips sweetly as your thumbs gently run over the faded scars on his skin. “that was the worst part of staying in there, i couldn’t see you properly.” you mutter, kissing him again. “shush.” simon whispers, coddling you close to his chest. “it’s true..” you respond, squeezing his waist a little as your head rests against his chest. eventually, you doze off, wrapped up in his arms.

when simon wakes up, he shuffles a little. you’re tangled in his limbs, head still pressed to him, fast asleep. it feels good to have you so close once more. you whine softly in your sleep as simon moves, clinging on tighter. he stills, letting you settle before getting comfortable again. “stop moving..” you mumble, burying your face into his neck. “sorry.” simon exhales, resting his chin atop your head. “s’okay.” you reply, falling back asleep.

you wake up to an empty bed, yet no beeping. sleepily, you stretch and yawn, wiping sleep from your eyes. “simon?” you ask, sitting up. you look over, seeing him doing his morning exercises. “morning, doll. sleep well?” he asks, as if he wasn’t lifting his entire body weight up on a doorway pull up bar that he had attached to the bathroom of the room. “yeah, fine.” you mumble, taking your sweet time appreciating how his back muscles rippled with each swift lift. “you look good.” you compliment, enjoying how he falters for a split second. “knock it off, i have to finish this.” he scolds, yet there’s no sternness in his words. “yes sir.” you stand carefully, sighing. there’s a knock at the door, and so you open it whilst simon gets down. “hello, doctor. thought i had escaped you.” you say smoothly, and he smiles. “you thought wrong.” he replies, entering the room.

his latex gloved hands are cold as they run over the sensitive wound, you can see simon glaring at the doctor over his shoulder. it almost makes you laugh. “the stitches aren’t ready to be removed yet, but they should be after a few more weeks. meaning no training.” the doctor tells you, drawing your gaze to his face. “right.” you nod, feeling a little dejected as the doctor starts wrapping your stomach back up. simon stays quiet, brooding at the fact another man was touching you so intimately. you giggle softly, excusing yourself as ‘ticklish’ when the doctor raises his brows. “all done. i’ll be back again tomorrow to change your dressing and check on you.” he states, bidding farewell as he leaves.

the door clicks shut and you laugh openly at simon, who scowls. “stop it.” he grunts, walking over and engulfing you into a hug. “you looked so upset. it’s funny.” you giggle, pulling up his mask to kiss him. his lips are desperate and hard against yours. “you don’t have to be jealous simon,” you coo, fingers brushing over the scars upon his cheeks. “i’m all yours.” you feel his lips twitch up slightly as he kisses you again. “i know you are.” he replies, pulling you down so he could coddle you whilst there was still some time in the morning’s free period. you tangle your legs with his, fingers running over his chest as you push your head under his chin, completely content with the position. “i love you, simon.” you mumble, smiling widely to yourself. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

[whydoyoucare866]

The Night We Met

PAIRINGS:

Titans! Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce's goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn't know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

A/N: I finally figured out a song to base this chapter off, I’m sorry I went so off with their conversation and didn’t really get anywhere with it, I just really want them to bond and I don’t think ahead of writing I just start and see where it takes me, I know this can be really boring but I want this to be a LONG fic and a slow burn and that can’t happen if the whole plot happens in two chapters so bare with me please!

TWS: slow burn, angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven't decided yet) change of plot

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Gif credits to Titanstv on Pinterest

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You felt a throbbing pain in your head and started slowly opening your eyes and becoming aware of your surroundings, you were trying to figure out how long you had slept for since according to the sky it was night now and you didn't know if it was the next day now or if you had just slept some hours, now that you think of it, you didn't actually remember falling asleep either, well thats what happens when you cry too much after not sleeping for two days i guess, you decided that you would really love a glass of water right now and started making your way to the kitchen, you hoped no one was awake or at home, after your whole emotional moment with Bruce and Alfred you realized how embarrassing it had been to cry your heart out in front of someone who did not even know you and how much of a big deal you had made things that seriously were not that deep, then you cried more of embarrassment, and then you realized how much of a baby you were being, and realized you were really sleep deprived and really needed some sleep.

You arrived to the kitchen and just as luck would have it, there was no other than Jason Todd, the guy who had to awkwardly witness a girl he didn't know sob her eyes out but while thinking about it you realized that making it a bigger deal than it was would only make it actually embarrassing and would probably ruin any chance of friendship with that guy so you decided that you would let it go and it had never happened.

Jason didn't acknowledge you at all, he was too concentrated on eating what he had cooked for himself earlier and honestly he didn't seem like a very social guy so you just let him be.

You reached for a glass but then decided that maybe you should grab a thermos so you could bring it to your room and not have to make your way over to the kitchen every time you were thirsty, the noise made Jason acknowledge you but he just gave you a nod while he looked at you and you just returned it, you went to fill the water and you could still feel Jason staring at you, the environment was really awkward and Jason looked like he wanted to say something, or maybe he just wanted you to leave, well, this was your chance to talk to him, if he didn't want to talk to you back then you would just let him be, no harm in trying to make friends in your own home.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there with Bruce?" you asked him

He shook his head and pointed to his ribcage "got stabbed, Bruce wouldn't allow me to go back out there"

"Huh, how'd you get stabbed?" you asked not being bothered by it, you were used to these kind of things

"Harley" he said nonchalantly

"Oh" you said and nodded at him

"Mhm"

"I thought she hadn't been active in a while?" I said, Dick had told me before he left Bruce that Harley hadn't made an appearance in almost a year and it looked like she might want redemption.

"Yeah but Joker was put back in Arkham some months ago, we thought they had broken up but turns out it was just an act and she was just plotting something to try and get him out or get revenge or something like that, and well i may be skilled but Harley is Harley" he said taking bites of his food.

"Yeah I get you, even I am scared of going against Harley"

"You are? haven't you beaten her like a lot of times?"

"Yeah but miss girl is not just crazy and skilled but she's also in LOVE like not cutesy love, but maniac love that's a dangerous combination" you said in an exaggerated way to get your point across.

"I wouldn't call that love" he said while shaking his head before taking another bite of his food which you had no idea what it was.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Obsession I guess, she's like obsessed with him, she would throw herself against chemicals that will probably kill her if he asked for it... oh wait she already did"

"Yeah, poor girl would give her life for someone who just manipulates her and uses her”

"I mean yeah, but I wouldn't call her poor she's still a psycho" he shrugged.

"Maybe, but she's in love, even if you wouldn't call it that i think i would, its not a healthy love but she just loves him in a really obsessive unhealthy way, also if you see it in a way, we are psychos as well" i say before taking a sip of my water.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sipped what must be coffee from a mug and looked at me curiously.

"Well, what kind of people just beats up other people every night?"

"Well yeah, but we only beat criminals and people who deserve it, they actually kill" he said trying to defend his point.

"I mean, yeah they may kill and we don't, but what's worse? dying or being paralyzed and basically tortured for life?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned and tilted his head a bit, he was intrigued in the conversation now.

"Well do you honestly think everyone will just be fine after being thrown around and beaten up until the point where you know if you give one more punch they'll die? I mean even professional fighters get brain paralysis or quadriplegic or like vegetative state from a bad blow and they have like precautions in those fights, now imagine in a fight where there's no precautions and the only stop sign is either them going unconscious or them not being able to move or them being a step away from death keep in mind that the criminals that you beat sometimes aren't trained or don't even know how to fight like regular thieves and shit, im obviously not talking about criminals like Ivy or Harley and stuff and a lot of the vigilantes have actually killed at least one person, maybe not intentionally but yeah" I explained to him.

"Huh, I guess if you think about it like that you're right" he nodded and took one last bite out of his plate

"Of course I am, I"m always right" I smiled at him

"Sure you are" he rolled his eyes in a playful way and stood up to wash his dirty dishes.

"I am!" I say pretending to be offended

"Uh huh, whatever you say" he smiled at me, "well, uhm its pretty late and I guess I should try to get some sleep, so see you tomorrow, I guess" he said before starting to head out of the kitchen.

"Sure, goodnight" I said to him.

"Night" He replied before finally leaving the kitchen.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26 @mad-die45 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @pariahsparadise

[poppadom0912]

Together (Epilogue)

Warnings: Mentions of hospitals, injuries, kidnappings and death

Summary: Life moves on whether or not you want it to.

A/N: This is it my lovelies! It's lowkey been two months since I first released my baby into the world and you've received her with nothing but love. Thank you so much for all the support you've shown, it truly makes me want to write more and better.

I hope you enjoy the final part of this series. This has been so much fun and quite a wild ride. Lots of emotions, I won't lie, some parts really got deep but when you read this, it'll all be worth it. 🤍🙃

Did I lie about the fluff? ... I'm so sorry, I just couldn't resist😭

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist

Black was not your favourite colour.

Some said it nicely complimented your red hair and you kind've looked badass but you couldn't see it. Besides the fact that it was slimming when you wore it, you tried to avoid the colour as much as possible. You much preferred the dark navy and greys instead.

That's why you hated wearing your dress uniform, even if it was for a joyous occasion.

Fixing the black suit, you sighed. According to your lawyer, showing up in uniform created more empathy and so not only were you wearing your uniform, but Jay too.

And Will… Well that was another conversation.

It had been two months since the kidnapping and things were, things were definitely different.

Due to circumstances, the trial had been pushed back a little. Well, their sentencing had, the trial went off without a hitch and all of Intelligence could attest to that but today was the day everyone found how for how long exactly they were going to be jailed.

Everyone had been bitter and rightly so.

Stepping back from the car door, you finished fixing your hair in the car window, happy that no baby hairs were sticking out and the gel was doing its job. You were asked for professional and so a bun seemed fitting.

Going around the car, Kelly joined you by your side but dressed casually. He wasn’t directly involved and your lawyer didn’t make a specific request. According to her, things could go sideways and things needed to look good on your side.

You envied the lack of black your boyfriend was wearing. And what annoyed you even more was the Jay’s uniform was more of a dark blue.

Jay fully healed over the past two months, no injuries for the naked eye to see but the scar was still there on his thigh, the trauma burned into his mind forever after. Similar could be said for you but while Jay was back on duty, you were still taking it slow and doing admin work at the firehouse after being a bored mess at home alone.

Therapy wasn’t much help. Your psychologist wasn’t the problem, in fact she was a darling, but not all things could be fixed. You eventually came to terms with the fact that this would never leave you. As a team, you’d have to turn a new page and keep on going, with the hopes that it became a distant memory no one had to recollect.

“Y/N.”

You could never get tired of hearing his voice, the tranquillity it brought you needed to be studied. His loving face sent you a soft smile, his eyes scrunching up in attempt to keep you calm and collected.

“Jay messaged me, they’re waiting inside.”

With a sigh, you interlocked hands and let Kelly lead the way inside the courthouse. Anxiety weighed down on you heavily, making it feel like you were walking through a sentient sludge that kept trying to pull you down.

A smile graced your lips but at the sight of your older brother in his dress blues, his entire crew by his side, your smile faltered. As soon as it began wobbling, your eyes burned as everything started to go blurry.

Your chest hurt too much, it suddenly felt like you were having a heart attack in the middle of the courthouse.

“Oh Y/N.” Jay sighed, enveloping you in his arms not a moment later. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, huffing into the crook of his neck, being mindful not to mess up his uniform. “Gosh, I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Stop that, don’t apologise.” Jay chided, tutting alike to how Will would whenever you two got into trouble. Whenever Will did that, you knew his annoyance wouldn’t last long, he loved you and Jay too much to hold a grudge.

Shit, now your tears were rolling down your flushed cheeks and making small marks on Jay’s shoulder.

“Do you think he’s okay?”

Jay didn’t say anything for a long time. You were almost scared he wouldn’t answer you like last time. The more time past, the more you knew he wasn’t going to say anything and the same exact scene from two months ago flashed before your eyes, almost sending you into a fit of gut-wrenching tears. But Jay proved you wrong.

“I don’t know what to think anymore Y/N.”

*****

Maggie sighed, shoulders deflating as she sat on the hospital bed. It had been a long day.

Whenever she wanted a break from the ED, she usually found one of the rooms in the ICU where the patient was usually either unconscious or in a coma. The peace and quiet provided her the time and space to get back into tune with her thoughts before going back to being the charge nurse of the bustling emergency department.

Looking at this patient, she didn’t need to look at the chart to know what happened, she’d been in this particular room every single day since their arrival. This patient had a certain pull that made her want to know everything about their condition.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Sharon said, her voice calming as she entered the room, closing the door behind her. “Everyone was waiting downstairs, you missed it.”

“I know.” Maggie replied solemnly, her hands readjusting the blanket around the coma patient. “But they did it, right?”

“They did it.” Sharon confirmed as she moved to stand on the other side of the bed. It was great news, news that should’ve resulted in tears of joy but the charge nurse barely moved an inch.

“Life without parole.” There was a pause, beeping and the whooshing of machines filling the silence. “They weren’t going to settle for anything less.”

“Good.” Maggie replied, her lips pulled tightly together.

Neither of them said anything afterwards. There was still so much that needed to be discussed but the right people weren’t in the room currently. The one big question loomed heavily over them like a stormy cloud just waiting for the right moment to start raining.

“Take a break Maggie. Eat a little something before you join the rest of them.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sharon turned and left the room, mumbling she had a meeting in a few minutes when in reality, she hated being in this room as much as the next person.

Maggie stewed in her thoughts, too many flying all around the place for her to properly take a break.

“Still no change?”

Maggie’s silence was more than enough of an answer. She truly hated her job sometimes, especially when she had to break the news to waiting family members.

“No movement since you left last night.”

Jay’s eyes still filled with tears every time he was given news.

“Are we- Do you think we’re doing the right thing Maggie?” Jay tumbled over his words from where he stood in the doorway, too scared to enter the room. The sadness laced in his words made him sound so innocent and childlike, Maggie just wanted to hide and protect all three Halstead’s from the horrors of the world.

But looking at the coma patient on the bed, Maggie knew her words were biased.

*****

One week later

You were going crazy. You didn’t know how much longer you could handle this. You hated playing the waiting game.

It was in the middle of shift when you got the call. You were finally back to full time firefighting, Crocket deeming you fit and healthy two days ago to work again. The happiness that followed his news only lasted so long.

Your emotions were haywire. When you entered the ED for what felt like the billionth time, you felt your heart physically stop at the sight of a red eyed Maggie. From beside you, Jay was scarily silent, not breathing for a good minute.

But then she smiled, dimples and all.

Connor was supposed to tell you but he was rushed into an emergency surgery and entrusted the charge nurse to tell the two most important people in Will’s life the news.

“Will’s going to make a full recovery. There’s going to be quite a bit of rehab and physical therapy but he’s going to be just fine.”

And for the first time since their initial reunion in the warehouse just over two months ago, all three Halstead siblings would be together again.

It was going to be a long and difficult path to recovery. You and Jay had your own struggles and having Will in a coma only made it harder. But now, Will had the love and support of his baby brother and baby sister, the two people he did all of this for.

And yes, maybe Jay would reem his for being a stupid bastard, protecting them from literal criminals with his life. Obviously, you would chime in when necessary but the big goofy smile on your face did nothing.

All was well now. The future was looking bright for the most of it, guaranteed it be a bit rocky in the next coming weeks that would consist of a gruelling recovery process but at the end of the tunnel, you were all coming out stronger than ever.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid @jamie0515