#I had this in my drafts for TWO YEARS and didn't realize I never posted it btw

[mccrappytoyblog]

[wishmemel]

so high school, ft. fushiguro megumi

synopsis: you’ve known megumi, nobara, and yuuji since freshman year of high school, but it's only recently that you and megumi have started realizing that your feelings might run deeper than friendship (that is, if either of you have the courage to make the first move...) tags: megumi x f! reader, non-curse au, this might be from megumi's pov idk, friends to lovers, all fluff, all characters are about 17, reader is an older sibling, megumi being his usual reserved self, reader is more bubbly, definitely self-indulgent (reader is a sanrio lover), probably ooc but this is just for fun, no beta reader so let me know if there’s any errors cw: i don't think there are any? please let me know if you spot anything, i'll add it! wc. 5.9k posted: 22/10/23 a/n: i've been working on this fic forever and i didn't think i was going to post it at first tbh... most of my fics stay in the drafts but i spent a little more than 2 weeks on this so i thought why not. also, yes, i know you can't legally drive a car in japan at 17, but we will ignore that for the sake of the fic!

Megumi chewed his lower lip, feeling the weight of the necklace stored in the lower pocket of his black backpack.

He and Yuuji had stopped by a comic book store before school started at the latter’s insistence—Megumi had already stopped by yesterday and picked up the copy he’d wanted in secret, stashed underneath his pillow—so he’d split from Yuuji and made his way to the Hello Kitty Shibuya store a few feet down. He didn’t want his friend to see the romance mangas that he was interested in, and he’d already spent most of his allowance on the two copies he’d bought yesterday. He didn’t want to be tempted any more.

Stepping into the store, dressed in all black, heavy eye bags present, his hair unkempt and spiky, he must have frightened the employees, but they’d done their best to greet him with a cheery smile and welcomed him inside. Megumi had pulled down his snapback and wandered around, wondering what he was doing flipping through a rack of cinnamoroll earrings.

By the time he was at the front counter, ears red, using the last of his allowance to buy a pink heart-shaped necklace of My Melody, he was convinced that he was insane. It was the last one on the shelf and it was… expensive, to say the least. He almost put it back on the shelf after seeing the price, but he hesitated, your sweet smile flashing in his mind. To see you rave and gush about him buying this necklace for you, which was supposedly out of stock everywhere online… Well, he really wanted to see your smile.

The employees at the register giggled over his flushed expression and prodded him about who he was buying it for, when he would give it to you, if you were already his girlfriend or if you were just a friend. They wrapped it in a pink box with a white satin ribbon and he left the store with the tiny amount of dignity he had remaining, his ears brick red from dodging all their suggestive questions. 

He hardly remembers stuffing the box deep in his backpack, underneath a spare sweater he keeps in his bag, and rushing over to the manga store with his hands in his pockets, nonchalantly waiting for Yuuji outside as if he’d never left.

They’d walked to school together, chattering away: well, it was mostly just Yuuji talking. Megumi listened, but that was the way he preferred it. 

He couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever been labelled talkative. Even as a child, Gojo, his guardian, had complained about Megumi’s blunt and silent nature. Yuuji didn’t mind the silence—it just meant that he had a chance to talk. Nobara despised it—she was always rolling her eyes or pressing him about one thing or the other. When it came to you, you liked the comfortable silence. You didn’t feel the need to fill it with conversation, and even when you did, it was because you wanted to, not because of some awkwardness that you felt between the two of you. 

The two boys met up with you and Nobara, both of you bleary-eyed and early at school for once. 

The two of you had this awful habit of staying up late and talking on the phone to get your homework done and then waking up hours after school had started, practically missing your first period classes. 

Megumi and Yuuji used to wait outside the gate for you two in the beginning, but now they knew you too well and usually headed inside, talking at Megumi’s locker. On the off chance that one of you arrived on time, you knew exactly where to find them. 

“Where were you two?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with a confused scrunch of your brows. “We looked for you at your locker, but you weren’t there. Nobara and I actually got to school on time! Aren’t you proud?”

Despite your weariness, your makeup was always done to perfection, uniform ironed and straightened, hair silky and shining underneath the scorching sun, so Megumi always thought you looked good.

It was just recently that you had started looking beautiful instead of nice and seemed more funny than even his best friend, Yuuji.

“Megumi and I ran to the comic book store,” Yuuji said, eyes lighting up with excitement. “I got the one-hundred-fifteenth edition of Human Earthworm. Basically, in this edition, Worm Man falls in love with this woman, but there’s a catch! She’s also half-worm, but she’s a worm from the top half of her body and the bottom half—“

“Itadori,” Nobara barks. “It’s too early in the morning for your SuperWorm stories.”

Nobara glares at him, looking like she hadn’t even had time to do her makeup.

Yuuji peers at her. “You look kind of… sick.”

Nobara’s eyes flare with uncontrolled rage and she leaps on Yuuji’s back, wrapping her legs around his waist as she pulls at his pink hair. “Do you want me to kill you?”

Megumi sighs while Yuuji laughs and dodges Nobara’s advances. You just giggle, your arm brushing against Megumi’s, though he wonders if he’s the only one who notices the warmth of your skin on his.

The bell rings, startling them, and Nobara slowly unlatches herself from Yuuji. You bound over to her and fix her hair and she allows you patiently.

“Good?” she asks, checking her phone’s reflection.

“Good?” Yuuji mocks, patting down his own hair. 

“You both look hot,” you affirm, giggling at Nobara’s murderous look. You tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and check your phone. Your expression brightens as you glance over at Megumi. “Megs and I have Chem together first. We have a lab today, remember?”

He doesn’t return your smile, mostly because he’s starstruck at the sight, but nods slowly to let you know he’s heard.

Nobara groans. “Yuuji and I have Gym first,” she gripes.

You snort, flicking her cheek. “I don’t want to know why you would ever decide to take that class.”

“It’s not bad or hard,” she defends, but then she puts her fist up and grits her teeth. “But there’s this really stupid teacher who always picks on me for being a woman. He thinks I’m slower ‘cause I have a vagina and that makes me want to pull out his hair.”

“And he hates me because he always says I’m cheating during our run,” Yuuji complains. “It’s not my fault I’ve trained a lot!”

You laugh again before bouncing over to Megumi and wrapping a hand around his bicep. “Let’s go,” you insist. “We have to get the seat at the back before Miwa gets there again! Last time, she took my spot and she knows it’s my spot. I always sit there!”

You drag him with you, calling your goodbyes to a stunned Yuuji and Nobara, the two aware of how much Megumi hates physical touch. They wait, watching for their friend to remove your hand, but he never does. The two exchange nervous looks as they follow you through the front doors.

You’re sitting on a large boulder, your back to him, as you listen to Yuuji and Nobara’s insistent speech. He can almost imagine your confused look: your eyebrows scrunched, lips pouty.

The three of you haven’t spotted him yet, nonchalantly strolling towards you, hands tucked in his pocket, but even at this distance he can hear what the pair are telling you.

“You cannot touch Megumi,” Nobara insists. “He hates being touched.”

“The last time I tried to hug him, he squeezed my wrist so hard I thought it’d break,” Yuuji points out, cradling his arm. “He hates physical touch.”

Megumi sighs and rolls his eyes. 

Just when he’d started getting close to someone, his cursed friends had to interfere. Even if their intentions are in the right place, can’t they mind their own business? He isn’t exactly the people-pleasing type: if he’s letting you touch him, it’s on purpose. 

Both Nobara and Yuuji share exactly one brain cell, he thinks. 

“Oh… really?” Is he imagining the hint of disappointment in your tone? “Ah, I didn’t know. Okay… I’ll try to keep my distance from now on. Thanks for telling me.”

“What are you three talking about?” he asks, stopping at your back.

You still as his leg brushes against your back. You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes with a tentative smile. He’s awestruck all over again, like every time you flash him that smile. 

“You,” Nobara answers truthfully, taking his attention off of you. 

Yuuji elbows her and laughs awkwardly. “She’s kidding. W-we were talking about Human Earthworm 5! Yeah, Human Earthworm. Obviously. I told them we should go see the fifth—“

You roll your eyes, watching him take a large step over the boulder to stand next to Yuuji. “I don’t know why they’re lying. We were just talking about where to go for lunch. Yesterday, Nobara and I got to pick and we went out for sushi, remember? We thought you guys might have a preference today.”

“That’s what we were talking about,” Yuuji affirms quickly with a painfully bright smile. Megumi isn’t so awestruck at the sight. 

There’s a collective moment of silence; they’re all holding their breath, waiting for his answer. 

He looks at you. You give him an innocent smile, blinking, and he finds it slightly frightening how easily you can lie to his face like that.

“Okay.” Megumi shrugs, accepting your words. “I’m in the mood for tteokbokki,” he says, despite his lack of allowance, if only to change the topic. He remembers Yuuji salivating over the thought of the street food yesterday in Math class, even after lunch. 

“There’s a place near here that has corn dogs and tteokbokki,” Nobara mentions, checking the Maps app on her phone. “It’s a five minute walk.”

“I want tteokbokki with a boiled egg,” Yuuji announces eagerly. 

“Tteokbokki is best with egg,” Nobara agrees. “Wanna share?”

“I want the whole egg,” Yuuji warns.

“You can spare me half,” she insists. “I want it too!”

“If we want to go, then we should go now,” you interrupt. “We only have thirty minutes left.”

Both Nobara and Yuuji start bickering over their order and you take that chance to sneak a quick glance at your phone, frowning at the recurring texts you’ve been receiving. 

Megumi looks to you, eyes catching onto the worried crease between your eyebrows. You put away your phone at his watchful gaze.

“Sorry,” you say, feigning a smile. “Let’s go.”

He nods, wondering if he should ask you why you had that concerned look in your eyes. But Megumi isn’t good at words; he always stumbles and trips over them and can never quite get his thoughts out properly, unlike you. He’s always admired the eloquent and seemingly veritable way you speak, even when you lie. You’re always able to put on a mask. 

He’s not so good with words, so in a rare display of bravery, he resorts to offering you his hand, as if extending his heart to you. His ears turn red as he looks away from you, realizing that Yuuji and Nobara have stopped arguing long enough to watch. 

You blink uncertainly, then beam up at him and take his hand. 

Your hand is warm in his and much much softer than the callouses that roughen his. Often, you offer him hand lotion in Chemistry and he hasn’t the heart to refuse you. You squeeze a dollop of the rose-scented cream in his hand before doing the same on your own. He gets the pleasure of watching you beam as the two of you rub the lotion into your palms. As a result of your generosity, his hands have been feeling softer than usual.

You thank him for the gesture and he just shrugs, bumping shoulders with you as you enter the address into your Maps app, trying to avoid the awkward atmosphere in the air. 

“We can get two eggs,” Nobara attempts, to break the tension. 

Yuuji agrees immediately with no argument. 

The jewelry box feels especially heavy in Megumi’s bag.

When the three of you reach the restaurant, Yuuji and Nobara immediately fight over who’s paying for the extra eggs. Nobara insists that it should be Yuuji who pays because he should be the one paying penance, while Yuuji wants to split the cost in half. The two of them bicker a little more, embarrassing you and Megumi in front of the cashier before they place their order, and then continue to do so while taking a seat at a table for four.

You just sigh and muster your brightest smile to make up your friends. Megumi hovers closely behind you as you place your order, feeling slightly protective of you in front of the handsome male noting your order. 

The man is tall, maybe taller than Megumi himself, and he has this air of easiness that Megumi instantly dislikes. What, with his eager grins and frequent winks sent your way, it’s clear that he just can’t—won’t—take a hint. His name tag reads Haru, which has many many meanings, but the one Megumi decides on is sun. He’s overwhelmingly sunny, much like Yuuji. But while Yuuji’s is a natural sunniness, a disposition that comes easily to him, Haru has this overbearing nature, like when he leans over the register to take your cash and purposely lets your fingers brush his. He has these charming chocolate-coloured curls and he keeps brushing them out of his big, dark eyes. Even through his instant dislike, Megumi can’t help comparing himself to the man.

He keeps wondering: Is this your type? Would you be interested in someone like this, so sunny and bright, almost as much as you are?

“A mozzarella corn dog with cinnamon sugar and the small tteokbokki, no egg,” you’re confirming, cutting through the jealous haze that is his thoughts. You glance back at him, finally taking his attention off of Haru. “Want anything?”

“Naah, I ate earlier,” he says with a shake of his head, sidling closer so that your back brushes against his chest. You startle slightly, but don’t move away. Haru’s smile falters a little. Megumi wants to stick his tongue out at him petulantly like a little kid who’s just won a game of rock, paper, scissors. 

Somehow, Megumi can tell you see through his lie, likely because you’ve been with him for almost the entire day, but you don’t argue and he quickly pulls out his phone and distracts himself with the Weather app so that you won’t suspect him further. 

A forecast of rain, he notices, startling. 

He usually stores an umbrella or two in his bag because he knows you never bring one—it doesn’t rain as often as you’d like, but even when it does, you enjoy the water soaking you to the bone. Megumi usually watches you, Nobara, and Yuuji splash in puddles, his black umbrella already opened up to keep him dry. When the three of you get tired or cold, you can count on him to lend you one, and you often plaster yourself to his side, getting his clothes wet as your teeth chatter underneath the umbrella. 

His fond expression breaks when you nudge his shoulder and the two of you make your way to the table where your friends are already seated, Nobara sitting cross-legged on the seat to face Yuuji, hands waving about animatedly. 

“You know, you were checking that guy out for an awfully long time,” you tease with a cheeky smile.

Megumi’s mind doesn’t put two and two together. In fact, he feels like it might be short-circuiting. “What?”

None of what you’re saying makes sense to him—isn’t it so obvious that he’s interested in you? 

“You know, Megs, if you’re gay, you just have to tell me,” you say solemnly, trying not to let your face crack. “I’m sure Nobara and Yuuji will also support you. Nobara likes girls, and, besides, that’s what friends are for. We’re here for you, even if you’re into the douchey cashier.”

“You thought he was douchey?” he blurts, the only thing that his brain seems to process. 

“So, you are gay!” you exclaim, slapping your receipt onto the table where Nobara and Yuuji are sitting. They jump at the thump sound the receipt makes on the table, their conversation interrupted. 

“Fushigoru’s gay?” Nobara asks skeptically with a raised brow as she turns around to face the two of you. An amused smile plays on her mouth. “I knew it. I called it first!”

“I said it first!” Yuuji protests. “Remember when he punched Kai in the face and I said that he did it because he thought his was was just too pretty to—“

“I’m not gay,” Megumi snaps, cheeks on fire. “And I don’t like Kai!”

You stifle a giggle, sliding your receipt in Nobara’s direction. “I got a corndog and tteokbokki. We can share.”

Nobara scans the receipt with a raised brow, letting Yuuji read off her shoulder. “Another phone number?” she teases slyly. 

“What?” you and Megumi blurt at the same time. 

Megumi snatches the receipt from her freshly-manicured nails and his eyes widen in horror at the series of numbers that are, indeed, printed at the bottom in black pen next to a winky emoji. Beside him, you cringe and Megumi crushes it up in his palm and shoves it into his pocket. 

He raises a brow, sliding into the booth, and asks, “Did you want that?”

You shake your head almost immediately and follow after him, sitting across from Nobara. She taps the side of your sneaker with her own and you look her way long enough to see a mischievous glint enter her eyes. 

“You’ve just been collecting phone numbers left and right, haven’t you?” Nobara sings, wiggling her brows at you to break the silence. “Quite the player, aren’t you?”

“This is the first number I’ve gotten all year,” you protest, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “You know that—you guys are always with me!”

“What about the guy at the vending machine yesterday?” Yuuji asks.

“Kai?” you ask in disbelief. “He’s not—We aren’t—”

Megumi blurts, “Kai asked you out yesterday?”

You groan aloud, burying your face in your hands. “No, he didn’t! He just expressed his interest. I told him I didn’t like him and we left it at that.”

And here Megumi was thinking that the guy had learned his lesson—It was true that Megumi had punched him in the face, but not for the reasons that Yuuji predicted. If Yuuji had truly heard what Kai had said about you, he wouldn’t be nearly as lax with his teasing remarks. And, fine, it was true—Kai did have somewhat of a pretty face and Megumi did have this tiny inkling that Kai had feelings for you, but he’d done his best to ignore that small, jealous whisper and tuck it aside. He never imagined that Kai would act on his feelings.

Maybe Megumi hadn’t punched him hard enough. 

Megumi removes his snapback and places it on the table, rubbing the material between his fingertips to soothe the burning in his chest. 

Yuuji raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his mouth. He looks like he’s about to make another unnecessary comment, but he’s interrupted by Haru, the cashier, serving them their lunch on a long, silver tray. 

You make eye contact with him and suddenly regret your decision to sit on the outside of the booth when he smiles at you for long moments while serving, explaining each and every dish with precise detail to you and only you. He flatly ignores your friends and keeps his eyes locked onto you, even while serving—you’re half afraid he might drop something that way. On the positive side, he knows exactly what he’s talking about—each dish, each flavour, each part is explained down to a T. 

You know more about canned Coca-Cola now than you ever have in your entire life. Who knew that the drink used to contain cocaine before 1929? Not you. But you’re thinking you could use some right now to get out of this awkward situation.

On the negative side—Yuuji is stifling his laugh, Nobara looks like she might explode any moment now, and Megumi… Megumi is glaring daggers at the man who ignores the icy look and continues his long-winded speech. 

You break eye contact and try not to roll your eyes as you lock gazes with Yuuji across the table. He gives you a knowing look, pressing his trembling lips together to hold in the laughter that dances in his eyes. 

He seems to be saying this is all your fault. 

You just sigh, a smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll pay for your eggs," is what you mouth back at him. 

Yuuji’s smile widens and he makes out, “Deal!”, right back at you. 

Haru has only just moved on to explaining how tteokbokki is made in their kitchen when Megumi tucks his black snapback onto your head, bringing it down to cover your view. He opens his mouth to argue but is interrupted by Nobara who snaps, “I think we know what we ordered. And Chef doesn’t seem like it’s part of your job description.”

The silence that befalls the restaurant makes your face burn hot with embarrassment. You sigh and cover your face with your hands, wishing a hole would appear in the floor so you could crawl into it, roll around, and just die. 

Megumi is not sure whether to feel grateful to Nobara for speaking up or annoyed because he was going to say something first. 

Haru mumbles, “It’s not. I’m a server.”

“I think we can handle it from here,” Yuuji coughs awkwardly. 

“Thank you,” you mutter under your breath, nudging Megumi with your knee. 

“Thanks,” Megumi repeats tersely, unpleasantly reminded of the existence of social etiquette. 

“Men take a hint,” Nobara mutters, glaring at Haru’s retreating back. “Level: impossible.”

You snort under a breath and point a set of packaged chopsticks at her. “And you made fun of me for rejecting Kai. He also wouldn’t take a hint and was incredibly insistent—I mean, what kind of guy waits outside of class for you every. single. day. after you reject him?”

Nobara slides her tteokbokki in her direction, seeing as how all of the dishes are placed in a spot advantageous to you. You give both her and Yuuji a pair of chopsticks, then push Megumi’s smaller tteokbokki dish towards him. 

“Megumi and I wait outside your classes for you,” Yuuji points out, breaking apart his chopsticks with a skeptical eyebrow raised. 

Indeed, Megumi is frozen, awaiting your response with bated breath. 

Do you find him creepy or weird when he waits for you? He’d always thought you might appreciate having someone to walk to your classes and chatter with, especially when Nobara isn’t around. He hadn’t considered the fact that you might think of him as a creep…

“You and Megumi don’t count,” you insist, glancing at him with your brows furrowed. “We’re friends. It’s different. Kai would bring me a different flavoured chocolate each day and deliberately hand it out in front of a group of guys that are known to gossip. He’d make these stupid comments, put his hand on my shoulder, and act like we were dating.”

You unwrap a set of chopsticks, snap them in half and offer them to Megumi who takes them with a troubled look. 

“Stop it,” you argue, nudging his leg with yours. “I already told you: I’m uncomfortable when Kai does it. You guys are my friends—it’s not any different than when Nobara waits for me.”

“Preach,” Nobara says solemnly, shoving another rice cake in her mouth. Yuuji startles and protests at the fact that he’s been too busy conversing with you to even have a bite, but Nobara just sticks her tongue out at him petulantly. 

So now he’s being compared to Nobara, Megumi sulks. He’s not sure which is worse—being likened to a creep or to Nobara. 

You nudge him with your elbow this time, shooting him an effortless smile. “Come on, cut out the whole protective older brother thing. I can see it in your face. Nothing happened, Megs.”

Megumi starts, then just nods, though he hadn’t been thinking of Haru. Unfortunately, your words do nothing to ease his mind. 

Now you’re referring to him as your older brother… He can’t say he’s not used to it, but… he doesn’t want to be your older brother, nor does he want to act like one.

Nobara smirks. “Yeah, Megs, listen to your—”

He kicks her shin from across the table and her eyes blow wide. “Hey! You didn’t do anything when…” Nobara’s train of thought is cut off when Yuuji elbows her. She settles for glaring at Megumi with a look that says I’ll get you back. 

Megumi looks indifferent to her nonverbal threat as he takes the first bite from his meal. Seeing him eat spurs you into action and you open up the container with your mozzarella corn dog.

He knows you see Nobara as a fun, sister-like figure: someone you can laugh with, go shopping with, and call whenever you need advice, gossip, or a pick-me-up. With Nobara, your time flies by in seconds, the two of you always busy giggling and laughing on FaceTime. 

You see Yuuji as a younger brother: someone to indulge and take care of, especially because Megumi doesn’t humour him and Nobara bickers with him day and night, much like a sibling would. You ruffle his hair when you’re pleased with him, making him beam, and you graciously tag along to the movie theater with him when a new Human Earthworm movie is released, since he and Nobara staunchly refuse whenever Yuuji pleads. 

So, maybe Megumi’s role has been predetermined from the start. He’s always been overprotective of his friends and he nags like a mother hen, especially when it comes to you. Whenever you text him that you’re going out, accompanied with a few pictures, asking him what to wear, he always makes sure that you have your location on, your ringer on, that you aren’t on silent mode, or you haven’t muted his texts. He makes sure he knows exactly where you’re going, when you’ll be back; he makes sure his phone is always nearby so he never misses a text from you, in the rare case that you might message him to pick you up. After all, he is your group’s designated driver. He figures you might need him once in a while. 

He chews his rice cakes slowly, trying to ignore the burn in his chest. He glances over at you, busy in conversation. The three of you are used to his frequent silence; you don’t take it as odd anymore, nor do you press for him to join the conversation. You all know he’ll speak up when he wants to. 

Is he overbearing? 

Actually… he’s not unlike you, in that sense. 

You’re the first to remind Yuuji, as always, that he’s left his phone in Megumi’s car, or his books in the classroom, or that his hoodie is in his locker, as always, but you’d picked it up for him because you knew he’d forget. Before he can even tell you that he’s lost his pencil for the third time this week, you’re pressing one into his hands with a skeptical eyebrow raise that asks, anything else? He’s like a little puppy that you look after when no one else will. 

With Nobara, he’s seen you often calling her when she’s alone in a taxi and she texts you that the driver is being weird. You stay on call with her, purposely raising your voice loud enough for the driver to hear you ask repeatedly, “Where are you? When are you getting here? We’re all waiting for you.” You always wait on her text that tells you she’s reached home safe before your shoulders loosen and you feel some of the tension leave you. 

Before Megumi goes out, you’re over at his house, fussing over his clothes (the same ones he wore a day ago), his hair (that never seems to settle, no matter how much gel or hairspray you use), his face. You pinch his cheeks, tell him to go wash his face again because he still looks half-asleep, toss him a rose-scented lotion tube, straight from your bag, and insist that he keep it. You completely baby him. 

And when the four of you go out for lunch, more often than not, it’s you who orders for the rest of them, Megumi tagging along sometimes, if only to insist on paying. You half-listen to their conversation, half-wonder when the food will arrive. And when it finally does, you’re the first to urge them to start: handing them their utensils, breaking apart their chopsticks, and reminding them to eat well. 

You’re used to looking after others and putting their needs before your own, as the eldest daughter of your family. Megumi is overprotective as well, but he’s also hyper-independent, used to caring for himself without anyone else. Around you, he always finds his demeanor molding, softening—he acts more spoiled, more sulky, almost as if he’s trying to catch your attention, to make you fuss over him. And you do. You always indulge him, though he’s sure you can see right through his act. 

You’re laughing at something Yuuji says when you notice him looking at you, as if he’s seeing you in a new light. You hold your corn dog up to him, a sweet smile on your face.

Megumi blinks, ears reddening, as he shakes his head. “N-no, I wasn’t—“

“Have some. It’s good,” you insist, and he can’t refuse you.

So he leans forward in his seat, his thigh brushing against yours—he shouldn’t feel so flustered by that action, right? But you’re still wearing his snapback on your head and it looks ridiculous on you, oversized and just barely hanging onto your head. 

Sharing clothes or accessories isn’t new between the two of you either, nor are brief touches like his leg against yours. For some reason, he’s starting to feel hyper-aware of his every movement around you in a way that he doesn’t feel around Nobara, or even Yuuji. 

Often, when the four of you have sleepovers or movie nights, typically held at Megumi’s house (he’s always playing host, but he’s grateful that you help out by always arriving an hour earlier with bags of snacks. Gojo adores you for that reason alone), you don’t shy away from physical touch. You’ve fallen asleep on his arm more times than he can count, laid your legs in Yuuji’s lap while the four of you argue over which movie to watch, and squeezed Nobara’s hand throughout countless horror movies. 

And yet… Your thighs brushing through your jeans as he leans close is somehow the most intimate feeling he’s had since his kindergarten crush had hugged him tight on the playground in front of his friends. 

You hold your corn dog up to his mouth and he takes a bite, relishing in the stretch of mozzarella as you pull the snack away from him with a laugh. He keeps his eyes locked on your lit smile, unaware of Yuuji and Nobara’s troubled gaze trained on him.

You’re like the sun; wherever you go, you shine so bright, making him want to reflect you: he can’t help smiling back. 

Sharing food has never been a big deal between the four of you—well, three of you. Before you had found them and became involved in their little friend group, Megumi used to firmly refuse to drink from the same bottle as Nobara or eat from the same spoon as Yuuji, on account of “hygiene”, he claimed. Then you’d stumbled and tripped right into their world and the easy way you’d steal Yuuji’s gatorade from right under his nose and take a sip or share a bite of the cake pop you’d brought for lunch with Nobara had been enough to make him loosen up too, just enough. Eventually, he’d forgotten about that little rule, all because of you, with no shortage of teasing from Yuuji and Nobara.

He drinks from the same glass as you when you’re over at his house, and when you find yourself parched at school, he’s the first to offer to run to the convenience store and back in time for your first period class, Chemistry, which you share with him. The two of you often pass the drink back and forth in class and he tosses it out afterwards when you walk out together, complaining about the homework or the in-class lesson. 

Although, he wonders absentmindedly, if you’re eating from the same spoon as him or sipping from the same can from him, can that be counted as… an indirect kiss?

His eyes are inexplicably drawn to your glossy lips as you beam at him and put together a string of words that flies right over his head. What if he leaned forward, just a little? The sparkles on your lips are illuminated by the warm lighting of the restaurant and he finds himself musing about the flavour of your gloss. 

Cherry, perhaps? He’d like cherry. Or even strawberry might be nice, sweet and sugary, he thinks. Anything would do, if it was you. 

You call his name again, snapping him out of his daze, and he stammers, “W-what?”

You giggle, tucking his snapback onto his head and covering his face. Why doesn’t he have a voice recording of that precious laugh of yours? “Idiot. I was asking if it was good!”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, it’s great,” he mumbles dazedly with no idea of what you’re talking about as he adjusts his hat.

He blinks, trying to clear the fog in his head as you wait expectantly, ignoring Yuuji and Nobara’s snickers in the background. 

“I-it was really good. The corn dog, I mean,” he clarifies, gaze dipping to your lips again. “I liked it. But… Lunch is on me next time.”

You snort, looking satisfied with his answer. “Lunch is always on you. Pigs won’t start flying if you let me pay for your meal once.”

Megumi has what you call textbook manners when it comes to things like this; he’s overly stiff, overly formal. He can’t remember the last time he’d let any of you pay for him without returning the favour. It’s more than just a matter of his pride and ego (though that certainly plays a hand.) It’s the fact that he can’t fathom depending on any of you like that. He can’t accept this level of warmth or care without his mind whispering that it’s only a matter of time before you’ll all leave, just like his father, just like his mother. 

He exhales deeply and pops open the can of Coca-Cola that you bought him. The bubbles hiss and fizzle before settling down. As soon as they do, he slides the can towards you with a jerk of his head: an order to take the first sip. 

You give him an indulgent smile and follow his instructions, leaving behind a mauve stain on the can. Then, you push the can towards him with the same head jerk motion that he gave you. He resists the temptation of giving in to your antics and smiling as a result. 

You’re messing with his head, he groans silently. He’s never going to be the same after this. More than that, he thinks, glancing towards Nobara and Yuuji who observe him with matching knowing looks, the two of them are never going to let him live this down. 

Maybe you don't know it yet, but Megumi is yours.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[antariies]

how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

[jaysgoodgurl]

-Blame it on... (p.js)

pairing: fwb! jay x f! reader

wordcount: 1.0k

content: smut, angst, heartbreak, mentions of alcohol and drugs, slight exhibitionism, idk what else...

note: hi I don't usually post ff on this account but this has been sitting in my drafts for like ever so here we are. It's been a while saur...

----------˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚----------

You only ever saw Jay when you were drunk, acknowledged his presence with a bottle in your hand. Why? You didn't know but the thought of not having your liquid courage in your system freaked you out. You needed the drinks to justify why you kept going back, and let him have you the way that he did. 

When did it begin? It was at a frat party you dragged your friends to. Jake had just left you heartbroken and you were ready to be stupid and reckless. You and Jake had been high school sweethearts but he decided he wanted to fuck other girls and that you just had to deal with it or leave. So you left your four year relationship and it led you here in a random frat house, five shots in and your friends nowhere in sight.

That's where he came in. Park Jay. Energetic. Charismatic. Life of the party. He'd plopped down right next to you on the couch to rest and you, being a lightweight, cuddled up to his warmth. He didn't mind. You're hot and single. An easy girl looking for no strings attached. You were just the girl he'd been looking for or so he thought. Little did he know, you were gonna be the one to fuck him up.

So off you went together, getting even more drunk and high than you already were. Bong rip after bong rip until it was just you two in a bedroom upstairs. You, with your skirt unzipped and your top long gone. Him, with nothing but his boxers.

You knew it was a bad idea. Having sex with a stranger right after a big break up. But there was something about him that just had you wanting more. His aura was inviting, luring you into his trap. You needed him to touch you, hurt you. You wanted his soft lips on yours, kissing away the pain. You needed him to make you forget, needed him to ruin whatever's left of you.

Maintaining eye contact, you undid your bra and let the straps slip from your arms. You slipped off your skirt with eaze, not realizing you'd misplaced your underwear. You took it off earlier in the bathroom and forgot to put it back on before you left. It's okay though. You liked the thought of being easy to access. Anyone could have had you and you wouldn't have cared. The thought of it had your pussy wet. That's how willing you were to forget. To have someone distract you from your heartache. You're glad it was Jay who got to have you that night. You'd never tell him that to his face, though…

You let him explore your curves as you both made your way to the bed. You let him eat you out, which you've never let anyone do but you can blame it on the alcohol for your misjudgement. You let him suck on your clit as he pumped two fingers into you, curling up at your sweet spot. You moaned from the sensation, stars filling your eyes. You run your hands through his hair, gripping it tight with each lick he gives to your folds. You gasp as he becomes the first man to make you cum just from eating you out.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he rubs the tip of his cock against your wet folds, lubricating it. He called you his good girl with each kiss as he let you adjust to his size, and maybe just maybe you'd let him be yours, but the thought stung too much. He fills you up to the brim, stuffing you with his length. He's definitely bigger than your ex. With him, you didn't have to pretend.

You let him be as rough as he wanted with you. You didn't care. You needed to feel something. You wanted this man to erase the touch of another. You wanted him to fill you up in each and every hole you had to offer. You wanted each and every drop of his cum to fill you up. You needed him to treat you like the whore you are, so you won't fall in love again. 

So he did. With each sharp thrust, he first came inside your pussy, astonished at how much you begged him to, refusing to even think of the consequences. You then cleaned him up with your mouth, getting him hard again with the swirl of your tongue until he came deep in your throat. Eyes puffy, you swallowed all of it with a smile. That was a first for him, and fuck he wanted you so bad. Before you knew it, he was buried deep in your ass, rearranging your guts as he came for the last time that night, achieving the goal you set for yourself. 

That's how it started.

Afterwards, you woke up sore with a pounding headache. Hickeys littered your chest, neck and thighs. Dried cum stuck to your skin...and Jay. He was sleeping so peacefully by your side. You almost wanted to kiss his pretty face, wanting to snuggle up to his side and breathe in his fragrance. But you didn't.

Instead, you got up slowly as memories of last night came flooding back. Was it a mistake? Maybe. A mistake you'll keep coming back to. A mistake you sought out when you were drunk and sad at night and had nowhere else to go but his apartment.

And Jay? He didn't mind that you only ever saw him when you were drunk. Although, he wished you'd let him take you out one of these days. It used to drive him crazy when this all started. You, refusing to even talk to him about what you were. Rejecting him whenever he'd tried anything while you were sober. Was he really that awful in bed that you needed liquor just to sleep with him? He tried breaking it off before. Ending this stupid game of cat and mouse. Why should he have to deal with your fucked up heart? But then he'd miss you and he'd come crawling back. It's whatever though. Having you like this was better than nothing...right?

[cozyjae]

confessions- j.jh 🥂🎙️

info: roommate au, drunk confessions, jaehyun x reader

wc: 3.1k

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: i’m posting my old drafts <3

A loud crash and a subsequent string of low giggles late at night draws you out of your room, cautiously approaching your living room with curiosity and slight concern, only to find your roommate staring at a mess of records strewn across the floor.

It takes all of three seconds for you to realize Jaehyun is drunk, noting the way his head whips around to you suddenly, surprised to see you- as if you don’t live together, before breaking out into a wide smile, skin obviously flushed a deep red.

“Hey!” He says loudly before wincing at his own voice, frown immediately forming as his dark eyebrows knit together. “I didn't wake you up did I?”

“No, I haven’t gone to bed yet,” you wave it off, watching the way he stands up slowly as your eyes drift to the opened bottle of wine on the coffee table, “I was just making sure you were okay.”

In the almost year that you had been roommates with Jaehyun, you don’t think you have ever actually seen him drunk. Occasionally he would come home late at night, a little louder than usual with hooded eyes and red ears, accompanied by his friends- but you have never seen him anything past tipsy.

“Have you been drinking?” You ask rhetorically, already knowing the answer that he confirms as he nods, “You want some?”

“Uh,” you hesitate but are easily convinced by his hopeful expression, wide eyes looking at you with anticipation, “sure, I guess.”

Jaehyun grins, sitting on the sofa and patting the cushion next to him as he pours you a glass, overly concentrated on the simple task as he hands it to you, fingertips brushing against yours. He bumps his glass with yours before he drowns the wine quickly, making you laugh into your glass, only taking small sips.

You watch him with interest, having never seen Jaehyun like this. You were comfortable with your roommate but not drinking wine together at 2 am comfortable, yet he seemed completely content.

Before your former rommate moved out to live with her boyfriend, she introduced you to Jaehyun- a friend of a friend who needed a place to stay as soon as possible after transferring universities.

Since then, you’ve fallen into a non romantic- yet domestic, routine with each other that brought a comforting normalcy and company to your daily life. You took turns grocery shopping and cooking meals and split up chores and kept a shared to do list.

Although Jaehyun was a relatively private person, he was still extremely polite. He played music but it was always at a considerate soft, volume- never too loud. If he stayed out late, he would always tip toe back in and if he had an early class and you were still sleeping, you could always hear his endearingly quiet movements through the walls of your apartment and sometimes the clatter of pots followed by a muttered curse word.

During the first few months of living together, whenever you felt like doing something and your other friends were busy, you always found yourself naturally drifting towards Jaehyun as he did the same with you, often appearing at your doorway with a timid invitation to watch a movie that he rented.

But as time passed, you slowly began to go to Jaehyun first, spending time together not just when your other friends were unavailable as Jaehyun simply became a friend himself.

As much as your friends pestered to you and made obvious the potential relationship between the two of you, you never really pursued anything with Jaehyun. What you had together right now was enough, and you wouldn’t want to ruin everything and lose your roommate and now- friend, by an incorrect assumption. 

Said friends also befriended Jaehyun after he moved in with you as your individual friend groups began to intertwine. Like earlier today, when Donghyuck was over studying and catching up with you, Jaehyun hung around as you ignored the not so subtle hints and ques Donghyuck attempted to give. Even after Jaehyun left, your friend continued with his declaration that you and Jaehyun were obviously infatuated with each other, which you rolled your eyes at and refuted.

You don’t deny that now and then, you could notice a certain level of tension between the two of you, whether it was when the cashier at the grocery store assumed you were a couple or how Jaehyun always listened to your late night, stress induced rants, nodding along as you confide in him and offering kind advice. 

You could always see the two of you moving forward with a relationship, you already lived together and were comfortable with each other- but you can never truly know what Jaehyun thinks and you were definitely not going to outright ask him. 

And so, your budding feelings for Jaehyun stayed between you and Donghyuck- much to your friend’s dismay as you reprimanded his meddling and turned your focus back on the schoolwork he had come over to complete.

Jaehyun’s abrupt movements snap you out of your thoughts as he leans down, reaching for the discarded records, suddenly fixated on opening a specific one. “Do you need help?” You ask warily, watching the way his tongue pokes out in intense concentration.

“No,” he says distantly but his actions say otherwise. You lean down anyways as he fumbles with pulling out a specific disk, taking the record from him gingerly and pulling the sleeve off easily. 

“Do you want me to put this on?” You ask softly as he nods, sitting back up to watch the way you move across the room, staring at the way your oversized shirt hangs off of your frame, legs exposed under the thick material as you stand on your tiptoes to reach the device that Jaehyun brought with him when he moved in. 

You fiddle with the record player, carefully putting on the record that instantly fills the room with soft, melodic jazz that echoes through the player’s speakers with a low, soothing rhythm.

Jaehyun smiles at the familiar song, arm thrown loosely across the sofa, “this one’s my favorite,” he says quietly, making you hum in appreciation. You move back to where he’s sitting, about to join him before Jaheyun reaches out to grab your hand. “Dance with me,” he whispers seriously.

“You’re really drunk,” you say matter of factly, biting back a laugh at his determined expression as you let him use your weight to pull himself up to stand, swaying slightly as he stares at you with hooded eyes.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agrees before a smile breaks out across his features, dimples appearing in the soft pink, tinged skin of his cheeks, “I can still dance though.”

You laugh silently as he looks at you for a few more moments, smile slowly turning into a small pout. Before he can say anything else your tongue pokes in your cheek as you mutter a quiet, “fine.”

Jaehyun’s arm quickly comes to circle around your waist carefully, almost testing how the touch feels. It felt different, him touching you in a way he never had before. It wasn’t like your usual, accidental touches, like when you bump into each other in the small space of your shared kitchen while cooking and he places a hand on the small of your back while moving past you. 

This felt so intentional, touch weighing heavy on your skin, feeling the way his fingertips each move individually on your waist. Jaehyun looks at you for an okay and you nod your head, “yeah,” you say softly, letting him pull you closer. Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder, skin covered by the simple black t-shirt he’s wearing.

He sways both of you from side to side, hands warm as one stays on your waist and the other holds your own hand delicately. He’s silent from his overwhelming concentration, mind filled with only buried thoughts of clouded admiration and attraction. 

Jaehyun rests his head in the crook of your neck, burying himself into your shoulder as you feel his lips pull into a smile that ghosts along your collar bone and his nose press further into your skin.

The short duration of the song goes by in a hazed quickness that you don’t notice until the song fades out slowly, offering only a few seconds of low static before the sound cuts abruptly and silence fills the room. 

Jaehyun waits before reluctantly breaking and immediately plopping back down on the sofa, letting his body sprawl across the cushions. “That was nice,” he mumbles as you frown at his new position, already concerned about the possibility of him falling asleep there. 

“Here, why don’t you let me help you into your room?” You say gently, knowing his current position on the small couch would only lead to neck crooks and aches in the morning to go along with his already predictable hangover.

Jaehyun hums distractedly, mind elsewhere, not disagreeing but not making it easier for you to help him.

You hoist him up, holding his forearm as his fingers graze over your hand, rubbing your skin softly. His fingertips run over your wrist then hand, grasping onto you for stability.

“How did you get this drunk on wine?” You complain more to yourself, realizing the extent of his lack of dexterity as Jaehyun just laughs breathlessly, mumbling something incoherent into the material of your shirt.

He lets you lead him into his room fairly easily with little resistance. You move him to your side, letting him wrap and arm around your shoulder for support.

You open his door and Jaehyun suddenly breaks away from your grasp to flop onto his bed, sprawling out comfortably.

You smile watching him squirm on his bed, shifting to get comfortable, even drunk Jaehyun was endearing. You make sure he’s in a better position than before and then move to leave, figuring you would see him in the morning with Advil to help the hangover he was bound to have.

“Don’t go,” Jaehyun says lowly, voice laced with realization, trailing off as you turn back to face him. 

“You need sleep,” you say and Jaehyun doesn’t respond, instead he looks at you intently before suddenly groaning and frowning exaggeratedly, his full lips forming a small pout.

“I’m so embarrassed,” he groans, not making eye contact as his thoughts begin to spill freely with no filter.

You sit on the foot of his bed while his gaze follows your movements. “Don’t be,” you say, voice laced subconscious sincerity, “It’s fine. Remember how you helped me when I was drunk after Johnny's party last month? That was embarrassing.”

He laughs, shaking his head, “no, that was cute.”

You give him a small smile, not bothering to disagree. It’s quiet for a few moments as you watch Jaehyun, his eyes close as his eyelashes brush lightly against his skin. You watch the slow and steady rising of his chest, shirt hanging off his frame, exposing the warm skin of his chest and collarbones. 

You start to think Jaehyun fell asleep until his eyes suddenly flutter open to meet yours directly as he sucks in a deep breath, pausing for a few seconds before speaking. “I love you,” he blurts randomly, making your lips part in complete surprise.

You’re momentarily stunned by his words, unable to process any of your own as Jaehyun continues casually, “like,” he breathes out, “really.” He giggles lightly, different from his usual, low laugh. Jaehyun’s eyes widen before he covers his mouth with his palm, seemingly realizing what he just confessed, mumbling a muffled, “oops.”

His words ring in your mind continuously but you refuse to let them completely register. Jaehyun was drunk and you couldn't allow yourself to bask in an admission that you doubt he would remember in a few hours. You smile wistfully, “I’m gonna go,” you say quietly, patting his leg.

“Wait- what do you say to my romantic confession?” He whines, reaching his arms out as his hand plays at your fingers to try and keep you next to him.

You let out a small laugh, letting his fingertips rub over your knuckles, eyebrows raising jokingly, “That was your romantic confession?”

Jaehyun doesn’t respond at first, only staring at you as his gaze flickers down to your lips, obviously lingering too long on your lips. You laugh again, causing Jaehyun's eyes to snap back up to meet yours, matching your smile and laughing airily.

He shifts, hair splayed across his pillow, “yeah,” He says simply.

“You’re drunk. I don’t-,” you stop, trying to find the right words to seriously break down what he said, “we can talk about it in the morning.”

He sighs, air puffing out his cheeks stubbornly, “Technically,” he cranes his neck to look at his bedside clock, “it’s morning right now,” he says, staring at the glaring, red 2:49 AM.

You roll your eyes, turning and looking away to hide your smile as Jaehyun grins at your reaction, “do I make you laugh?”

“Yes, Jaehyun,” you say with endearment, noting how he looked like a child seeking validation with wide eyes and concerned, furrowed brows, anxiously awaiting your response.

“Do you think I’m funny?” He asks again in a small voice.

“Yes,” you reiterate gently as he continues, propping himself up by his elbows. “Is that why you laughed today when Donghyuck asked if you liked me?” He asks pointedly, only blinking as he awaits your response. ‪

Your chest constricts and your mouth opens in surprise, confusion reading across all your features, “Jae, what? You heard that?”

Your mind instantly replays the conversation you and Donghyuck had earlier that afternoon when he asked if you liked Jaehyun after the elder had left. 

You remember laughing awkwardly at Donghyuck’s question, choosing avoidance over straight up denial, but it still didn’t stop a wide grin from appearing on his features, looking at you like he had confirmed his suspicions, “Oh you totally do.” 

“So what?” You mutter, shoving your textbook away from you to lay on your bed, “it’s not like I’m going to do anything about it, and I don’t know, I doubt he feels the same way.” 

Now, Jaehyun sighs loudly, making you realize he must have only heard the first part of your conversation. “You don’t like me.” He says matter of factly.

You look into his searching eyes, lips twisting as you think of what to say. “Of course I do, Jae. I just- I don’t know, I thought I didn’t know if you felt the same way,” you explain, giving him a small smile, “And besides, I didn’t want to admit something that to Donghyuck in the first place.”

He hums, seemingly content, “I like it when you call me that.”

“Jae?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, hand reaching back out to hold yours as you hesitate. “I- I, think we should finish talking about this in the morning.”

He blinks, retracting his own hand. “What does that mean?”

“It just means you’re drunk right now.”

He seems to take that as an acceptable explanation, satisfied with your response and reaction to his admission. When you bid him goodnight he only smiles, relating a soft, “good night,” before you’re closing his door quietly, rubbing your face in confusion.

Jaehyun’s words leave you lying in bed unable to get rid of the fluttering feeling in the pit of your stomach and unable to sleep due to the feeling of eventually confession and discussion the next morning would entail.

You wonder what you would even say, what Jaehyun would even say, and if he even truly meant or remembered what he admitted. It makes you nervous, so nervous that you fall asleep with a feeling of dread overshadowing any excitement or anticipation you would have otherwise felt.

-

“Morning Jae,” you say knowingly, amusement monetarily overpowering your nervousness as your obviously hungover roommate comes into view.

Jaehyun turns from his seat at the kitchen bar with messy hair and tired, narrowed eyes due to the light that streams through the large bay window in your apartment.

He laughs tensely, hand on his mug as he looks up at you nervously. “Yeah, really nice,” he says sarcastically, smiling with you before he clears his throat, expression instantly changing and making your voice immediately catch in your throat. “About last night,” he starts, turning away from the countertop to face you.

You bite your lip, awaiting the worst rejection stemming from his own confession, waiting for him to deny and apologize for any admission from his drunken consciences

“Well- first, I'm sorry about that, that was,” he pauses, struggling to find the right words, “uh- not me and very embarrassing.”

You nod, not really knowing what to say as he continues. “But thank you for helping me,” he gives you a smile that you return easily.

“Yeah, of course,” you say, feeling his choice of words had completely affirmed what you feared.

“And I remember some of the stuff I said and I just want to say- I mean, that was not how I wanted to talk to you about my feelings. But I want you to know that I really do like you.” Jaehyun says everything in one breath, adding a small, “if haven’t ruined any chance I had with you.”

He pauses to read your expression that doesn’t look immediately negative as he’s encouraged to carry on. “I overheard your conversation with Donghyuck yesterday and then,” Jaehyun visibly cringes as he continues, “I got kind of sad and drank the wine Yuta bought me from forever ago. I shouldn’t have listened and I shouldn’t have done,” he gestures wildly with his hands, “whatever that was.”

He looks at you with a rawly vulnerable expression that you have never seen before, wincing as he recounts the events from last night while he awaits your response.

“I mean, I really like you too,” you say quietly, making his head snap up in surprise, “really?”

“Yeah,” you say, thinking it was pretty apparent. “Of course I do. I really like living with you and I really like spending time with you,” you twist your fingers subconsciously, shifting under his gaze, “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“I guess I made that easier,” Jaehyun laughs and you so do you, taking the seat next to him and resting your elbow on the counter, looking at him with raised eyebrows in agreement, “it was a very bold approach.” 

Jaehyun’s smile widens before he bites his lip, “Can I kiss you?” He asks shyly before rambling, “I mean I’m pretty hungover right now so maybe not but-.” 

You cut him off, moving closer than you already were, leaning up and reaching up to press your lips into his sweetly, breaking apart after a few seconds only to smile up at him- your roommate who had suddenly become so much more, “I don’t mind.”

[sechsviciado]

when doves cry

reaperken/touka ; written circa nov/dec 2022

no warnings or ratings really?

-

so after my slight reaperken/touka rambling yesterday i figured that i really have nothing to lose from posting this small snippet of a fic (oneshot??) thats been sitting in my google drafts for nearly the past two years; if this is crappy i can always just delete it but ive wanted to contribute a bit more to keep tokyo ghoul tumblr alive so i figure why not?

i felt so smart when i came up with the title since ken was a dove during that entire reaper arc until the events of cochlea. i didnt really pay attention to prince's lyrics in the song but looking back at it now i guess some apply? not really any inspiration was gained from it though, i just grew up with music from the 60s-90s so the title kind of came to my mind and it happened to be a prince reference. not really any ratings or warnings yet?? its nowhere near finished and im not sure if ill even finish it because i feel my writing heavily lacks.

anyway, without further ado

how many months had it been?

it had been months — years — since he recalled feeling this exact way. of course, haise had felt this way too, but it would never compare to the feelings he had for her before that brief period of time where he had lost recognition of everything and everyone who once meant something to him. ironically, it's when he felt most at peace with the butterflies in his stomach, beating against his rib cage and the cage surrounding the longing which could never be released. he’s regained his memories now, but he knew something was different within him even when he laid his glassy eyes on her again on that first visit to :re as sasaki haise. why did he feel so entrapped and yet so wrongly distant even when he had no recollection of her prior on that first visit to the cafe?

it would never be the same.

it would never compare to the feeling of falling in love with her and the realization that came with it. the realization that left him in a state of both a mix of surprise and agitation for days and with a feeling that could only be described as his heart skipping a beat and yet crumbling at the same time. it would never happen, would it? he had chosen to face that reality when he was still his old self, naive and too ashamed of his actions to actually face her after all the pain he caused her as a result of the pain which engulfed his entire life, too. too ashamed to accept his new reality, hiding behind his eyepatch — too ashamed to admit he had fallen in love so easily. he wasn't any different now.

haise may have fallen in love with her through the lens of a reborn figure with a fresh start and no boundaries to stand behind (apart from his obvious shyness and the weird sense of familiarity), but it just occurred by fate. the same fate that had snatched him from her years prior had found a way to bring him back into her arms and make him belong to her once again. he can't help but believe that maybe there was some future destined between them; the embittered part of his heart and soul makes him realize even that destiny would probably be cursed or filled with further strife.

though he supposed that didn't matter now.

not when he was even more distant from her than when he was an amnesiac with no recollection of her apart from the same old feeling of confusing comfort and longing. it's humorous and yet painful to think about how low he'd fallen in this aspect, not even being able to face her once again. despite his older age, he was still just a boy when it came to this same ancient rush, wasn't he? it doesn't matter. she surely didn't want anything to do with him anyways, especially not after everything that he's done. he's betrayed her and everyone who was once a part of him once again, and he’s chosen to accept that painful reality ever since he vowed to stop dreaming and flung tsukiyama off that building. facades all break down eventually.

though he supposed that didn't matter now, either.

he’d be disposed of soon enough before any of this could matter at all — before hinami was to be the one to disappear from the purgatory that was life as a ghoul. there was no heaven and there was no hell; there was no afterlife. heaven was bliss and safety on earth while hell was anguish and pain.

it was selfish of him to hope touka would feel any sort of pain after all of the grief and rage he's put her through time and time again, but he hoped he'd at least be remembered by the person he felt he loved most in this lifetime — the one who hadn't thrown him aside but who had instead built a nest for him as if though her life depended on it. he can't help but wonder… he’s had everyone he's ever known and cared for snatched from his hands by the same twisted fate that led him to await his upcoming death, he doesn't know if the puddle of both coldness and warmth in his stomach is either fear or love.

he'd truly cherish any memory he had of her before he’d be killed.

he vaguely remembers telling her, years ago, that he'd be sad if she died; he just hopes she would be saddened at his death, too.

[tiredly101]

New Neighbor part 8

Pairing: Wally Darling x Writer!Male reader

New Neighbor Masterlist

Illustrated Au, here's your human knocking out the eight part of this fic! Did not think it would get so much love or I would write so many part but here we are! Anyways, picture was made by @qep0ermint!

The dinner at Gepeto's was a success, Wally enjoyed seeing M/n enjoy himself and admittedly he got a tad jealous at M/n's close friendship with Gepeto but it didn't stop him from enjoying the simple and cozy dinner with him.

M/n carefully grabbed Wally's hand and guided him outside of the restaurant after Gepeto insisted that it was on the house.

"Gepeto and you are really close, huh?," Said Wally trying to sound indifferent but he was failing because M/n could see the light crease in his eyebrow and how he tighten his hold just a tad on his hand. M/n chuckles softly while squeezing Wally's hand back for reassurance.

"He is like a brother to me, the way we met was kinda comical, almost as if it was scripted," M/n said picking Wally's interest, he looked at M/n as a sign for him to carry on while he basked in how beautiful M/n looked under the moonlight.

"I was running around this town, script's and rough drafts for some novels in hand until I crashed into him making all the paper fly around the air. He helped me up and I realized how nervous he looked, I of course asked why and he just spilled everything from how he got divorced recently to how he couldn't afford to buy the restaurant you and I were in a minute ago," M/n said while, with his hand still holding Wally's, moving his hands in motions that represented some part fo the story. Wally blushed at how handsome M/n was, mostly with how the moon was making his eyes sparkle in a almost perfect way.

"What happened then?," Asked Wally curious now looking at the sky, it was beautiful the colors that were being mixed. He should paint it, he should paint M/n with the sky so he could call it his masterpiece.

"After a year of friendship was stablish I decided that it was time to make Gepeto's a reality and bought the restaurant for him with my savings! He cried and has never let me pay a meal since then, not even after I told him that it was fine if he didn't pay," M/n said now looking at Wally's eyes while smiling softly. The sight made Wally swallow harshly as he seemed to get lost in a trance, he could paint him and it will still not be a match to the actual god like beauty that M/n, his date, possessed.

"I did promise you a dance so, would you care for a dance my darling?," Asked M/n while his eyes flickered from Wally's to his lips and then back to his eyes. Wally blushed at the action and smiled while shyly nodding a yes, M/n started humming a song and the sound of M/n's voice mixing with the soft whistle of the wind and the crickets had become the perfect white noise for Wally if he tried to sleep. They swayed from one side to the other, occasional twists and dips happened and small laughs were shared between the two of them. It was a perfect moment.

Wally sighted happily while now cuddling next to M/n on the grass against a maple tree. M/n smiled and looked at Wally gaining his attention when he pushed a strand of his blue hair out of his face and tucking it behind his ear, he blushed while M/n cupped his cheek with care which made Wally melt. Wally slowly started going closer to M/n and the opposite closed the gap between them with a soft kiss. When M/n pulled apart from Wally he had a brush and he kissed Wally once again which made Wally giggle against M/n's lips, they both were thinking the same thing when they looked at each other's eyes with dopey smiles.

"Best date ever..."

Do you guys want the aftermath of the date 👀? Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so I can tag you!

Tag list:

@farleyis @whynot5243 @fluffyart5000 @blueberricowboi @bonesbonesbonesuponbones @who-let-me-write-this @pr5is1ng @just-random-post @ghosteezofvispast @nettaw @sleepyscxry @theorchardcollective @thelostboys11 @darling-w @ametistacollinsworld @vampyrefay @cloudeecheer @lacunaanonymoused @waywardstardustcollector @welcome-home-puppets @redjeanjacket @fried-lotud @waywardstardustcollector @frindtheshapeshifter405 @lotusflowerexe @sleepyscxry @the-gayest-toad @mythjustiice @backyard-bear

[damagedintellect]

Skk Brainrot for Chuuya’s BDay

💌 When I said chibi was my dog this is not what I meant : Chapter 1  💌  

Summary: The minute he stepped into Mori's office Chuuya was already annoyed. While the Mafia dealt with foreign imports of all kinds, being told to investigate the strange influx of Stray Dogs across Yokohama wasn’t his ideal use of his skill set. Chuuya has always liked animals, animal's also liked Chuuya and he's always wanted a dog. He never expected to become a dog. The irony of Dazai calling him a dog all these years makes him want to scream. His ex partner has always been vocal about his disdain for two things. Now Chuuya is somehow both, and Dazai is the only one who can change him back.

Notes: Happy Birthday Chuuya~ I wanted to post something for Chuuya's birthday & this has been sitting in my drafts. Eventually this will have more than one chapter because I see the vision I just haven't had the time to write for it. Gonna base all the dogs on WAN.

💌 Word count: 3,754 💌  You Are Here | Next Chapter coming soon

The port mafia was practically "in charge" of every illegal trade in Yokohama so the sudden influx of stray dogs, breeds that were not known for being popular in Japan, tipped Mori off. He couldn't help but sigh rolling his eyes because he probably should have someone look into it. As silly as the situation may have seemed the Port Mafia has a reputation to uphold. Although the juxtaposition of sending an executive to investigate was also incredibly ridiculous but Mori has seen animals gravitate to the young man and knowing that a certain partner used to claim all the time that Chuuya was his dog, brought back a level of nostalgia that plastered a smile on his face. Chuuya on the other hand was less than pleased with this position. The mafia’s greatest combatant being used as a sheepdog to herd in a bunch of no names to the slaughter was a waste of time in his personal opinion. Don't get him wrong, he'll do it because Mori's command is law but he's still going to complain about it. 

The investigation didn't actually take him that long to trace it back to a series of missing people reports. One person went missing and suddenly there was a new dog on the streets. Although it seemed pretty cut and dry it was still concerning that the authorities haven't done anything about the disappearances. Most of the cases occurred near the edge of town where plenty of abandoned facilities were located. It was possible whoever was behind this was hiding there. Chuuya had only assumed what was happening, he had a hunch that it wasn't even animal's being imported. The power of science was a bizarre field to him, after all, he contained a power equal to that of a God.

What he didn’t expect was for it to actually be someone's ability. Why let the dogs out on the street if it was someone’s ability? He only had more questions but Chuuya didn't care one way or the other because what difference would it make to him. He was given the order to take them out regardless. Mori wanted the facility intact for further investigation after the group was swiftly dealt with but it was more of an afterthought. Chuuya didn't even bother taking reinforcements; he simply walked through the front door and watched as they realized nothing could touch him. He cleared out floors left and right until the only way down to the lower levels was an elevator. His ability should have been able to handle whatever trap had been set but then the room filled with gas, one of the very few things his ability had no effect on. Chuuya could only hold his breath for so long and despite manipulating the drop from the elevator to compensate for the impact of fall damage, he was already dizzy. By the time he forced the doors open, with a few steps out of the elevator he found himself collapsing to the floor.

His head had a dull ache that spread to the rest of his body. They didn’t kill or physically harm him yet which could only mean they want information but they must be more stupid than they look to not even bother trying to restrain him. All they did was put a cloth over him. His joints were sore as he tried to clutch his head. When he shifted the cloth fell off revealing not a hand but a paw. He wiggled out of what used to be his clothes to get a better look at himself. Observing the new changes to his body, he was a dog. A fluffy chihuahua if he had to guess by his reflection in the glass across from him. They seemed to have put him in some examination room. He turned around and shook his tail. The feeling of an extra limb was more apparent and weird but he didn't have time to dwell on it for too long. Someone was going to pay.

The familiar red glow covered his form as he continued what he came here to do. Being a dog wouldn’t matter in the end. He'd just change back after he killed the ability user, but even after clearing the building he didn’t. He ran up and down the empty halls struggling with the new sensation of walking. The panic was starting to set in. He still hadn't changed back and there was not a soul left in sight at the entire facility. That means they got away before Chuuya woke up. He grit his teeth. He didn't know how long he was out for and tracking them down would be a pain in the ass in the state he was in. The only thing that gave him some relief was that he came alone and that none of his comrades were in this predicament. He could only imagine the chaos an entire division of dogs would do.

Trying to sift through files with paws was a nightmare. It took all of his self control to not destroy everything in this godforsaken lab. Chuuya just hoped this weird organization didn't send back up his way otherwise he was screwed. He couldn't find anything important and his patience was running extremely low with how long it was taking to even grab a file from the desk. If he was human it would take him two minutes to settle this whole endeavor. Chuuya stopped dropping the papers from his mouth.

If he was human.

A wave of dread washed over him as he realized there was one person who could fix this.

Dazai.

He really didn't want to see the mackerel especially not like this but what else could he do. He couldn’t go back to headquarters like this. He couldn’t even phone for someone to help him, he tried. Even if someone picked up he could only bark and hoped they understood. All Dazai would need to do was touch him but there was one glaring problem with that. Dazai hates dogs. He wouldn't voluntarily approach them let alone pet one out in the wild. If Chuuya tackled him to the ground he would be forced to at least touch him right? He took off in the direction of the ADA without a second thought. Completely forgetting about his hat, his phone and the rest of his belongings. He sure had a lot of faith in Dazai’s ability.

Chuuya was exhausted halfway there. Walking on all fours was miserable considering the distance he had to cover and he was even using his ability to help travel which probably only made him more tired. Luckily it was so late in the night there weren't a lot of people or cars around. By the time he made it to the agency building he was ready to collapse. He sat by the door as the sun was already starting to rise. It would be hours before Dazai would show up. He let himself sleep in the meantime he was too tired to try and fight it.

“What’s going on here?”

A voice stirred Chuuya awake from his sleep but he didn’t want to wake up yet not after the night he’s had. He could sleep in a little more right? He didn't have to make his report immediately. He contemplated just how long he would sleep in before another voice joined the conversation.

“Hey Mr. Kunikida.”

Chuuya swears he’s heard the name before but it doesn’t fully click why. He was about to get up when he felt a hand smoothing out his hair. A warm feeling washed over him preventing him from wanting to move. He let the voices talk while he leaned into the unknown touch still keeping his eyes closed. 

“A lost dog, did you really think things through before bringing it here? Listen, it's a lot of responsibility taking care of a living creature.”

Lost dog

That broke Chuuya out of his pleasant stupor. He opened his eyes and got up abruptly. He was sitting in the white haired kids lap while a bunch of agency members were surrounding him. None of them were the one he needed to see.

“Dazai!” he tried shouting as he scrambled out of the kid’s grasp to find the waste of bandages. He briskly dodged the many hands that tried to grab for him. Finally being small came in handy for once. He cringed that he admitted that to himself. Chuuya sniffed the air and sure enough he could tell exactly where the brunette was sitting at his desk. As he bolted around the corner he jumped into Dazai’s lap almost knocking him out of his chair. He was pawing at Dazai’s chest trying to explain what happened to him but it only came out as incoherent barking.

Dazai frowned. All of his coworkers were fawning over an ugly mutt while he was making it a point to actually do some work. It was just a dog and a lost one no less. It already had an owner. What was so special about it? He had made his distaste for the animal apparent when Atsushi brought him up the stairs. Hadn’t he ever heard the phrase “let sleeping dogs lie” before? A single bark rang out from the conference corner causing him to turn his head before everyone’s panicked cries could be heard. It must have woken up and the amount of people surrounding the dog scared it away. Dazai should be fine at his desk or so he thought. The small runt tackled him almost making him lose his balance yapping up a storm. He frowned, glaring at the dog but that only made it continue barking and pawing at him. 

“Okay that’s enough.” Dazai snapped, holding the dog up with both hands. It was weird the dog stopped his infernal yelping, its eyes seemingly growing wide as both its tail and ears slumped downwards. Did the dog understand that it was being scolded? 

Atsushi stood in front of Dazai making sure the dog was okay “I thought you didn’t like dogs?”

“I don’t. Here, you take him.” 

The statement was dismissive as he tried to hand Chuuya off to Atsushi but before he could get a proper hold on him Chuuya jumped on to Dazai’s desk and started growling at the tiger boy. Dazai perked up again at the sudden change in the dog’s mood. 

“Maybe he can tell you’re a tiger.” he stated playfully.

“Or maybe he likes you, Dazai.”

Chuuya started barking again, taking an aggressive stance towards Dazai’s protege. Dazai stifled a laugh looking over the dog. It was a red long haired Chihuahua. The fur almost seemed unnaturally orange for a dog and paired with the black collar around its neck it almost reminded him of a certain slug. Maybe this dog was a Chuu-huahua with how little it’s temper was. 

"We should call him Chibi because he's so small." Dazai wanted to take a picture, draw Chuuya’s tacky hat on the dog and then send the picture to him. Of course he wasn’t going to because that was effort he didn't want to waste on the small creature but he still had the thought cross his mind.

Before Chuuya could bark in protest the president stepped into the room to address the obscure racket. They filled him in on the situation as Dazai resumed working, nudging Chuuya to get off the paper he was writing on and then completely ignored the dog. Naturally Chuuya stepped aside at a loss of what to do. The president was pretty okay with the agency taking care of the runaway for now until they found his owner but they would never find his owner since Chuuya wasn’t actually a dog. He hadn’t even noticed he was still wearing his choker which is probably why they thought he was lost. It fit loosely around his neck but since his coat of fur was so fluffy it wasn’t that obvious it didn’t fit him properly.

Chuuya was gutted that he didn’t turn back immediately but if he could just get Dazai’s attention the brunette would put it together. They could communicate nonverbally in the past with just a look. All Chuuya had to do was to make the stupid mackerel realize it’s him. He put his paw on one of the books discarded to the side. If he could make it float then his ex partner was sure to put it together right, but nothing happened. There was no red glow in fact Chuuya couldn’t even feel Arahabaki anymore not since the president said they would take him in. Was it possible that being a dog got rid of his ability? That can’t be right since he used it a few hours ago. He was more confused than worried. Dazai wasn't touching him; he should be able to use it. Chuuya grit his teeth but tried to appear calm. Chuuya glanced towards the president, was it possible it was his doing? He didn't actually know if the president had a special ability but it's also not like he doesn’t remember N explaining that animals are not capable of manifesting special abilities. It's just peculiar that he was able to use it when he first turned. Maybe it took him a while to fully transition to being a dog?

 He didn’t have much time to think about it as Kunikida tried to pick him up off the desk. He kicked his hand away and growled again. He refused to let anyone come near him. Chuuya might be a dog but he didn’t want to be touched again. Knowing how good it feels to be pet and pampered he’s afraid he’ll lose himself in the warmth, plus he needs to focus. His train of thought crashed when Dazai patted his head calmly saying “No one’s going to hurt you here. You can stop your growling. It’s annoying.” 

He didn’t miss the glint of daggers in the other’s eyes, it was oddly comforting. If it was anyone else he would have bit them but right now Dazai was the only one he trusted. Chuuya nodded at Dazai causing him to pause. Chuuya would smirk if he could because he understood what that look meant. It was a subtle gesture but since he’s known Dazai for years and in that split second he could tell the other was caught off guard. 

Dazai blinked, did the dog just nod at him? It was getting increasingly difficult to dislike this dog when it kept peaking his interest. Most animals have always hated him but cats usually were the only exception. They say that animals can judge a person’s character and it seems like every small creature in Yokohama, including a certain slug, got the memo but this is twice now that this dog seemed to understand his words. Not even the cats that approached him displayed such obvious strange behavior. He could also be reading too much into this situation because he simply didn’t want to be working right now but that was more to spite everyone over the dumb dog.

Before anyone else could touch Chuuya, he jumped down and scampered underneath Dazai’s desk sitting by his feet. He had a lot to think about and he was still tired. He thought about going back to the facility to try again but it was too far for his small stature to traverse back and forth constantly and now he'd have to shake off these schmucks to do it. Honestly he could try dragging one of these losers with him, they are detectives after all. One of them could put it together but he doubts any of them would follow a dog around town for that long without thinking they’ve gone batshit crazy. The biggest problem is he didn’t know who the ability user was and there was no way for him to communicate effectively right now especially since his ability disappeared. Or was there? He’d have to think of something.

Atsushi and Kunikida watch in awe as the dog practically follows Dazai’s command. They both peer under the desk to see him curled up by Dazai’s feet. Atsushi raised an eyebrow. 

"I'm not the only one who thought that was weird right?" Laughing awkwardly as he looked around when everyone circled the desk.

Kunikida pushed up his glasses "I guess he's a lot smarter than he looks." Chuuya peeked out to bark again before glaring at the blonde. He could see this startled Kunikida slightly. 

Dazai sighed "I think you guys should leave Chibi alone for a bit. Let him get used to his surroundings."

"I'm impressed. Dazai, I didn't realize you were so good with animals."

His frown deepened "I'm not, I'm just saying that he's only gravitating towards me because I'm the only one who's left him alone." 

Dazai shifted to see the dog still at his feet lazily pawing at his shoe laces. He rolls his eyes. This dog was more of a cat than a dog but he supposed that with its small frame it wasn’t completely uncommon for a chihuahua to be fast and nimble but that does take the proper training to accomplish. Just whose dog was this, unless, was it possible this is Chuuya’s dog? Dazai remembered the hat rack always mentioning that he wanted a dog but for some reason he never got one. He smirked to himself. If that was the case Dazai would keep him for a while. Maybe he could train him to mess with his owner a little bit but first he had to find out if this was, in fact, Chuuya’s dog. Unfortunately finding that out would be too much effort even if it was to annoy Chuuya. He dropped the idea entirely. At the end of the day it was just a dog.

Everyone went back to their daily tasks giving Chuuya a much needed break from being the center of attention. He lazily played with the laces of Dazai’s shoes. He really had nothing else better to do. He heard the shuffling of paper and the scribbling of pens filling the room. Chuuya only assumed Dazai’s partner was furiously trying to blitz through paperwork. Glasses guy seemed like the workaholic type. Although that gave him an idea. If Chuuya could get his paws on a writing implement he could try spelling it out for Dazai. He slowly got up and walked around the corner to Kunikida’s desk. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the dog except for the blonde. Gracefully he jumped up and knocked a pen and small notepad off of the desk. 

“Hey, what are you-” Kunikida stopped when he saw the dog try to take the cap off the pen. Dazai raised an eyebrow but knelt down to take the cap off for him.

Chuuya tried his best to write “help me” but when he looked down it was intangible scribbling. Next he tried to draw a fish which he was much prouder of when he really shouldn't be. Dazai tilted his head as everyone crowded around to see what the dog was doing. When there was still no reaction Chuuya rolled his eyes and drew a hat. Well he tried to draw a hat. Putting the pen down it looked more like a food bowl but come to think of it he hadn’t eaten anything and it was nearing lunchtime already. Chuuya placed the pen down sitting upright, puffing out his chest. Surely this was enough for Dazai to understand what was going on. 

There was a moment of silence from everyone before Kenji clapped his hands together "Oh I get it! He's hungry." 

Chuuya deflated, nosing the paper of the notepad to start over as the ADA were trying to figure out the food situation. Chuuya took his time with the next drawing. He needed to get it right this time but holding the pen in his mouth wasn't the easiest thing in the world when he had to pick it up from the floor. Luckily this time it was a recognizable fish. When he was done he pushed it towards Dazai stamping his paw trying to mentally communicate. 

Dazai tilted his head to the side "A fish?" Chuuya barked trying to correct it to "mackerel" but it was no use.

Kenji crouched next to Dazai on the floor. "Could it be, he likes fish!" 

The brunette raised an eyebrow before trifling through his pockets to pull out a can of crab. "Maybe he could smell this on me? That would explain why he tackled me earlier." He flatly added opening the can without a second thought. Seriously, what was he doing? He should let the others handle the pest. 

Chuuya stared at the open can silently laughing to himself. Some things never change, huh? Back when they were partners Dazai always carried around the same disgusting cans of crab with him. He contemplated pushing it away but at this point it was better than being relegated to eating dog food. Taking a hesitant bite it wasn’t as bad as he remembered it being. He lapped up the crab ignoring the rest of the office marveling his odd taste in sustenance.

"A dog who likes crab and Dazai? Atsushi, where did you even find such a creature?." Kunikida put his pen down for the moment. This situation was weird even for what they normally deal with. "Well he was just sleeping outside the entrance. I thought he was another stray until I saw the collar." Atsushi scratched the back of his neck. He didn't really think anything of picking up the dog since Kyouka had brought a cat to the office not too long ago. Kunikida pushed up his glasses “I guess Dazai should be the one to take care of it then.” Everyone in the

office nodded in agreement leaving Dazai in distress.

He scoffed “Why me? Might I remind everyone that I detest dogs!”

As Chuuya finished eating he casually walked back over to where Dazai was sitting and made himself comfortable in the brunette's lap. Kunikida laughed going back to his work. “Could have fooled me.”

Dazai grumbled, staring at the small creature. It wasn’t everyday that anyone trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. This dog really was like Chuuya. The thought only made him roll his eyes. “Yeah, as if.”

[partyanimal167]

The New Guy- Shanks x F!Reader

Okay! So I finally finished my Crocodile fic that took me forever to write. SO~ my drafts are empty, and I'm writing this as a result of my dilf poll. I haven't written for Shanks so I'm interested to see how this is going to go... (EDIT: now posting months later lol)

CW: modern au, black fem reader in mind, mdni

That's a grown-ass man, me. Leave him alone. You're making up shit in your head.

You were just minding your business at work. You had been there for a little over a year and getting comfortable in your assistant manager position. You were a bit young for the role, but you were confident in most of your abilities.

It was a Monday morning , and everyone seemed to be on their toes. For weeks, there was talk of a corporate level director that was going to be helping out for a while. It wasn't for your department, but one that you worked with often. You didn't stress it really.

But that Monday tiredness hit you hard because you really shouldn't have slipped on that small puddle in the lobby. Your life flashed before you, and you tensed in anticipation for the hot coffee cup in your hand to soak your blouse and burn your skin.

However, that never occurred.

The man gave you a warm smile and wink before setting you back on your feet. You thanked him and walked away quickly to run from the embarrassment.

You fell back into gentle strong arms and a face that reminded you of the men who bought your friends drinks and never asked for anything in return. The ones who you would giggle and whisper about.

You were typing away at your desk when you heard the commotion approaching and saw a small group of people walking around and chatting. You joined your manager by their desk and asked about it.

"The corporate guy is here." The group arrived, and you saw the handsome man from earlier.

The group stopped by and introduced him. You exchanged introductions and figured that would be all.

That was not all.

In your mind, corporate meant uptight and strictly professional.

Shanks was silly, a flirt, and somehow found a way to be in your department every day, multiple times a day.

Soon enough, you loosened up enough to the point where you dished out sly remarks about Shank's age and shitty game when he was making another comment about the boyfriend you kept telling him you didn't have.

You didn't think that much of him until one day he rushed out of the office, and no one knew why. Until you heard that he bought a last-minute ticket to check in on his daughter who was sick in the hospital. You realized that Shanks had his own priorities and responsibilities so of course he wasn't just an old flirt. It was...attractive--you guessed.

You brought him a coffee when he came back and asked how he and his daughter was doing. It was a simple gesture. You left it at that.

He didn't.

Soon, you were starting to get some more recognition for your efforts at work and were invited to an appreciation dinner with some other people--including Shanks.

He praised you for your work, and maybe it was the alcohol but the words made you melt and softened.

So the two of you got drinks afterwards.

And maybe your hands weren't to yourself, but Shanks didn't say anything.

Work went on like normal...kind of. You couldn't stop yourself from getting flustered when that old man stopped by and flirted with you. You couldn't stop the impure thoughts of how Shanks was so unserious but could handle business--professional and personal.

And it was oh so hard to keep quiet when you were getting showered in praises and kissed everywhere in the supplies closet because it was hard for Shanks too. He needed to show how good he could make you feel and how he couldn't resist you.

But don't worry. Even if you struggle at work with him, Shanks will bring you over and let you make as much noise as possible.

The new guy was really trouble.

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

on time this week! lets goooooo!! thank you to the amazing @thequeenofthewinter and @skyrim-forever for tagging me!! tagging @umbracirrus @your-talos-is-problematic @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @changelingsandothernonsense @orfeoarte @thana-topsy @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @wispstalk @gilgamish @viss-and-pinegar and anyone who feels like joining! no pressure as always <3

since i just finished my rewrite of the early chapters of Cycle of the Serpent and posted a new chapter, i'm bringing an excerpt from another wip. i have no idea when this one will even remotely get finished, as it's one that i come back to and then leave alone for months on end, but i love the slow working of it. so, here's a tiny bit of my dragonborn frothar fic, "Kill the Creature, Shed the Blood"! this is an extremely rough draft, but i hope you enjoy!

The dragon didn't entirely sell Dagny on not telling their father, but it sure was interesting. Plus, if it got her moping brother out of Dragonsreach for a night, then maybe it'd be fun to send him on his merry way. The two crept through the halls, down past a locked door, through strange and unused corridors. How many basements and cellars did one castle need? Frothar cursed silently as he followed his sister through the dark, her own cloak concealing her form. He'd donned one for his travels, and was glad he'd done so. The chill under these stones sunk into his blood. He couldn't stop the shivers that raced up his spine at every cobweb, and wondered how many frost spiders he may have been standing above his entire life. Maybe this was where Farengar got some of his ingredients, but he wouldn't pry. That'd give away where he'd been. And he couldn't be sure, he didn't see anything larger than a typical house spider, but… "Stop." Dagny pushed a hand out in front of her. Frothar, lost in his thoughts, stumbled backwards, boots making a loud, metallic sound against his armor. "What? Why?" She turned back, brow scrunched. "Because you're stepping on my cloak, what else?" He hadn't realized how close he'd been walking behind her. Trusting her sense of direction, and losing himself in the examinations of his surroundings, he'd found that he'd been a mere hairs width away from her. He swallowed uncomfortably, scrunching his nose. "Ah." "Come on," she hurried him along, rolling her eyes. She gestured forward, her feet again finding graceful step along the stone, his shambling awkwardly behind her. For his younger sister, she sure was bossy. But, that had always been Dagny, since the moment she was born. The minute the girl learned how to talk, he'd watched her demand things, from her toys to attention to outings. She'd demanded horses to ride and blades to spar with and dresses upon dresses. He snickered every now and again thinking back on the first year of the Dragon Crisis, how one of the ones she'd had tailored had never arrived, and she sulked for weeks after. Last he heard, it wound up in the closet of some Thalmor general's daughter, but that was just gossip.

Frothar did his best to keep a subtle distance between the pair, but not too far as to get lost in the dark. Lanterns were a risk, so Dagny lead by a tiny candle and her hand cupped around the flame. The flickering illuminated the dust, the piles of hay, the musty stench that surrounded them filling his nose. "So, how come you knew of these tunnels, and I didn't?" He finally asked, Dagny stopping momentarily. Before he could ask why, she swayed the candle, dropping the hand that shielded the flame, metal on a small bench catching the gleam. A shrine to Talos, as solemn as the grave, buried deep beneath Dragonsreach. "These tunnels were built for times of war, didn't you pay attention? Farengar taught us all about them, but you just kept dozing off in his lessons." "Not my fault that he taught them on the Great Balcony," Frothar replied, thinking back on the early summer afternoons where the wizard taught them the history of their Hold - much to the dismay of both the children and the wizard himself - and the warmth of creeping sleep that Frothar did his best to resist, and failed fantastically on some days. He figured this must have been one of those days, and instead turned his attention to the shrine. The offerings were simple; coins, snowberries, and tundra cotton. Still, it sent a pang of familiarity through him, of the conversations his father and uncle had in secret, of Nelkir's idle gossip, the youngest being fully aware of their father's worship. Perhaps Frothar was the last of the siblings to become aware of this fact, and in a way, it sent another pang of worry into his heart. Did he miss even more important information? Was he truly sleeping through some of the lessons Farengar departed, the important ones? He didn't have any time to think this over, as Dagny trudged forward through the dark, winding her way through familiar pathways. Frothar fell in step behind her, not wanting to be left behind. He didn't want to know if he was right on the frost spiders being beneath the castle, or whether that was just his paranoia.

The door slid open with a loud, thunderous creak, the kind that made him wince and worry if anyone heard it. Dagny, unfazed, pushed through, blowing the candle out. Frothar looked at her with a knit brow, but Dagny waved it away. "I know my way through the tunnels," she explained. Apparently, she'd been doing this for a while. He looked out on the horizon. Whiterun sat in a basin of wide plains, between the rising mountains, much like the center of a delicate bowl. The wind brushed through his dark hair, and he stepped forward, grass crunching beneath his feet. He'd packed his things for this trek, but he had no idea just how much of his adventure was going to be him tracking down the dragon, or him trying to survive it. "Good luck. Oh, and Frothar? Next time Nelkir offers first, take it up, or I'm gonna have to drag you through the dusty basements again." He watched as Dagny turned and shut the door behind her, barring it. He was truly, completely on his own out here.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

OC Origins

Thanks @tabswrites here!

Rules: post the origins of how you came up with the name, personality, and design of your OCs!

I'll do Kelsey and Hye-Jin this time!

Kelsey

The original form of Kelsey appeared in the first draft of TSP, and she was Kelly's best friend Nellie. Kelly being the original Maddie. Like Kelly, Nellie was also eight years old and didn't do much, but she was one of the leads in the second book, which I still have not found. Nellie had blonde hair in a bob cut, blue eyes, pale white skin, and wore rectangular purple glasses. I don't remember what she wore. She had the ability to fly. I think her design stayed mostly the same in Draft Two, but I feel like I never described her. I gave her the last name Newman, and I also changed her powers to be force-fields. My sister was the one who told me to change her name, since she didn't like the name Nellie, so I changed it to Kelsey (and I don't remember if it was her suggestion or not). I thought Kelsey Newman still sounded like a good name, so I kept it. In Draft Three, I gave Kelsey very vague powers that I just described as "magic," but this is where Kelsey's design actually begins to look like it does now, and I finally aged her up to eleven. I cut her hair short and choppy and made her glasses black. Her personality finally decided to begin to form, but that doesn't mean it was good. In Draft Four, Kelsey found herself becoming a POV character, and that's when her voice came out a bit more. Her narration became a little sassier, and I was able to get her voice down pretty well. I solidified her powers as reality warping, which helped shape Kelsey's storyline, though I eventually gave it the name essokinesis. I also gave Kelsey some makeup. Draft Five was mainly started so I could work more on character, so I was finally able to get Kelsey down a little. While I kept her narration, a lot of it was internalized on Kelsey's part, so her exterior was written to be a lot shyer, and that strong voice only showed itself occasionally. I made her softer side stronger as she became responsible for taking care of her younger cousins. Design-wise, I tweaked her makeup and outfit slightly to fit more into the modern tween emo vibe I was attempting, and even after some debate I recently thought it would be fun to dye her hair, thanks to an incorrect assumption by @illarian-rambling that I actually really liked. Kelsey has come a long way, and I really like where she is now.

Other Kelsey: OC in three, Picrew (blonde), questionnaire one, questionnaire two, bingo

Hye-Jin

While she's not in Part One, I wanted to talk about her in the same post as Kelsey. Hye-Jin made her first appearance in Draft Two as Alexia's friend Lucy Karry, who went to another school. Lucy had the ability to control the weather. Lucy was given one personality trait: shy. Which is more than most characters got in the first few drafts. Lucy was always East Asian and specifically had Korean descent, but design-wise that just meant beige skin, dark eyes, and thick black hair that I think was shoulder-length. Like everyone else, nothing interesting was going on. For Draft Three, I gave her nothing more than a shout-out as Lucy Harris, and I kept her ability to control the weather, but she never made a physical appearance. In Draft Four, I temporarily had her be named Lucy Day in her shout-out, but I realized early on that if she was Korean (or I guess at this point, the Alii equivalent of that), I should reflect that in her name, and I changed her surname to Song. Lucy did not make an appearance until Part Two, where she was revealed to have a new power like Kelsey: mimicry. Lucy stayed quiet and shy, but she didn't have a lot going on, and I struggled to give her something interesting to do. But her design slowly got better. I did give her more basic clothing, where she wore black and white, but that didn't seem to fit. Eventually I decided she'd wear pastels and also gave her a high ponytail and bangs. In Draft Five, when working with the characters, I figured her out a little more, though it didn't sink into place and become easy until I changed her name to Hye-Jin. For some reason, Hye-Jin was easier to write than Lucy. It was like I finally knew who she was. I kept her hairstyle, but I instead made her color palette be duller cool colors plus pale colors, which really helped her out, and I've been having fun describing her outfits. Personality wise, I love where she's heading. Making her a helpless romantic and have a long list of crushes was fun, but also giving her the same shy, sweet personality on top of other quirks such as a love of reptiles and strong self-confidence was very fun. I love writing her now, when before she wasn't like that.

Other Hye-Jin: OC in three, questionnaire one, bingo

Other Origins: Lexi and Maddie, Ash and Gwen, Noelle and Rose

Tagging @melpomene-grey @chauceryfairytales @leahnardo-da-veggie @sarahlizziewrites @dyrewrites

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[fiori7ura]

but strangely, he feels at home in this place

TW: body dysphoria, self-doubt, mentions of panic attacks & death, fear, depression-ish, trans max & steve, don't like, don't read.

(modern au, no upside down, max uses she/her but it changes halfway through, steve is also trans, max & steve have a brotherly bond — author is afab but on the transgender spectrum and goes through body dysphoria and confusion all the time)

→ i've been writing this on ao3, it isn't posted yet because it isn't finished, but i wanted to post what i already have on here :) it's all rough draft, so expect for there to be grammar mistakes or things nto worded correctly. there are italics galore in this, but i copy & pasted it from ao3 so it deleted the layout it was in, and my phone makes everything lag when i try and do italics on here, so, yeah, no italics, just imagine them in parts when needed lmao — read tags & warnings, thx!!

title from 'this is home' by cavetown!!

——— ★ ———

Yeah, you could say that Max never fully fit in with girls her age. She skated, hung around guys, scuffed her shoes with dirt and mud, crude sayings and drawings scribbled with black sharpie and in messy handwriting on the toes of her sneakers she got from Goodwill.

Her life was good for a while, until it wasn't. She woke up one day with panic and realization coursing through her veins, crying until her lungs gave out and she hyperventilated, screaming into her pillow.

Panic attack, Max's brain supplies from the old memory of her lessons with her school counselor, Mrs. Kelley.

Small things trigger them, and ever since Billy passed in the mall fire, they happen more than ever. Max wishes she could go back to that summer, when there were no worries in the world, before Billy died, before she and her Mom had to move into a crappy trailer park across from the Munsons.

The bad thoughts cloud Max's mind again, and she shakes her head like a wet dog coming in from the rain.

She gets up and throws on basketball shorts that come down to her knees and a threadbare, gray Hawkins Tigers shirt that she stole from Steve, her tightest, most concealing bra she owns strapped on underneath. Max shoves her hair in a haphazard low bun, taking a quick glance in the mirror, not even bothering to look for too long. Staring into her reflection is bad. It makes Max notice all the impurities and small problems about herself that makes her want to shatter the glass, break it into little pieces on the carpet below her.

Max prays that one day, she could just sink into the floor and disappear. Maybe then, things would be easier. She wouldn't have to worry about her impending doom of her crush on El and the dark thoughts that flood her mind daily, time and time again.

Max steps outside of her trailer, spotting Steve's car parked over at Eddie's. He's sitting on the porch steps, cigarette in his hand, smoke stirring out of his mouth.

She wishes to be like Steve. Wants it. Hopes for it. In her mind, he's selfless and resilient. He came out to everyone without a single trace of doubt, and everyone supported him when he said he didn't feel like a girl. That was three years ago. Max was only 12. She's now 15, drowning in her sorrows and regret.

She stumbles over the gravel that lines the ground, feet carrying her to cross the distance between the two trailers. Steve looks up from his crisp, white Nike Cortez shoes, a smile lighting his whole face up when he sees Max.

"You know those things'll kill you, right?"

Steve snorts, tilting his head like a dog. "Hello to you, too, Max. You sound like Rob, you know that?"

Max just scoffs, the smile on her face betraying the way she's trying to act. "Whatever you say, Mom. I'm not taking the blame from Dustin when you die from smoking on those cancer sticks."

"Sure," Steve says behind a smirk as he puts out his cigarette and dusts his hands off on his jeans, imaginary dirt spreading around the air. "If you're asking for a ride, just know that I'm about to be leaving. Just let me tell Eddie bye, 'kay?"

"Okay," Max echoes, laughing. "Go get your boyfriend!" She yells when Steve turns around to go inside, mimicking kissing and hugging, wrapping her hands around herself and making obnoxious smooching noises. Steve flips her off behind his back. She can almost hear the faint mumble of smart ass kid come from his mouth, which causes her to laugh even harder, head lolling back on a cackle.

——— ★ ———

They're halfway through the drive back to Steve's house when Max breaks the silence, Stevie Nicks playing low on the radio, music drifting through the speakers of his Beamer. "Could I, uh, ask you something? You gotta promise not to say anything about this conversation, because if you do, I'll blackmail you and send Eddie all the embarrassing photos of you from when you worked at Scoops."

Steve whips his head to look at Max, almost surprised look on his face as he lets out a disbelieving laugh, airy and light.

"Okay, kiddo. Shoot."

Her feet are propped up on the dash, and her pulse is rabbiting. "How did you know?"

Steve raises a questionable eyebrow towards her direction, nose wrinkling. "What d'you mean, 'know'?"

Shit, shit, shit.

"No, nevermind, actually. It's stupid," Max sighs. "It's stupid," she repeats, again and again, flipping the word around on her tongue.

"Hey, no, don't just dodge my question like that, Mayfield. Be honest. I doubt it's as stupid as you actually say it is. Spill your guts, c'mon. Like you do at those girly sleepovers of yours."

And, oh.

Girly sleepovers.

Max doesn't like that. Bile swirls in her stomach and she digs her nails into her palm, leaving crescent moons in her skin's wake, jaw clenching and teeth grinding down against each other.

Steve clearly notices he did something wrong, because he quickly pulls into his driveway and puts the car in park, unbuckling to turn and look at Max.

"What's wrong, firecracker? Tell me, please. It won't hurt to just say what's on your mind."

Max shakes her head, eyes downcast and frown placed onto her face. "When did you know you didn't want to be a girl?" Max whispers, voice small and weak sounding, even to her own ears.

Steve grabs Max's hand and holds it oh-so-gently, the angel he is.

"I always subconsciously knew when I was younger, I guess? I never wanted to wear dresses or look pretty. I wanted to feel like a boy. I always got mad when my teachers would split the class into girls and boys. I would try to go with the guys, and my teachers would usher me back into the girls side, telling me that I'm a girl, not a boy. Kids would laugh and point at me for it,"

Steve pauses, getting teary eyed.

"And I didn't fully recognize how I felt inside until after I met Robin and everybody else. I got assured that it was normal to feel like this, so then I recognized how to love myself and my body. I understood that I was a boy, that I am a boy, and I should be proud of who I am."

Max lets out a wet laugh, tears threatening to spill over and around her eyelids.

"I don't think I'm a girl, y'know, at all."

Max looks at Steve through glimmering eyes, and he pulls her into a hug, squeezing her, comfort washing over her body like a cold shower. "I'm so proud of you, Red. So, so proud. I love you, so much."

That's when the tears really start to flow. Max hugs Steve right back, laughing with hurt and love and peace and too many emotions that flood his body.

"You're the best brother I could've asked for, Steve."

They stay like that for minutes on end, time drifting together; Steve rocking Max back and forth in his arms, tears from Max staining his polo shirt.

Steve pulls back first, still holding Max's hand. "And you're the best brother I could've asked for. You're a boy, don't doubt that, Max."

Max wipes at his eyes. "Did I ever mention how much I love you, Steven Belinda Harrington?"

Steve sputters with laughter, letting go of Max's hand. "Belinda? That's the best you could come up, Mayfield? I thought I was the best brother you've ever had?"

"I'll take it back, Belinda, trust me, don't think I won't," Max laughs, punching at Steve's shoulder, not a touch of violence or hate behind it.

[softxsuki]

So I saw that you had I tag I follow and immediately rushed over! So first and foremost...How are you? Are you drinking water daily? And I also wish you a good rest of days.

I was wondering since I rarely see this for Akatsuki no Yona. Like a Chubby reader. That's all. Like didn't they exist back then too?...

So basically Reader was Yona's personal maid, one of her most trusted friends like Hak and Soowon. So now they are apart of the group and basically feel out of place. She has a crush on Jae-ha but knowing he only goes for "attractive" women she doesn't act upon her feelings.

What happens next? 👀

Insecure Chubby!Reader Who Has A Crush On Jae-Ha

Pairing: Jae-ha x Chubby!Fem!Reader

Warnings: uh talking down about yourself, insecurities, lowkey suggestive at one point? but nothing crazy

Genre: comfort, fluff

Post-Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: In which you confess to Yona that you have a crush on Jae-ha, but he'd never like you back because you're chubby and he only goes for thin women. Little do you know that someone is listening in on all this o.o

[A/N: OMg hi...I KNOW I KNOW. It's been way over a year since you requested it. If you're still around, you're probably wondering what the heck this is as it's been long forgotten. I'm sorry it took me so long to write, I had it half written in my drafts all this time because I started second guessing myself and I really loved this request and didn't think I could do it justice. SO here's my completed version of this. I hope it's decent, and hopefully you're still interesting in reading it :'). Sorry if it's disappointing NFEKJFKAEF <;3]

It was night now. Months had passed since Yona ran out of her castle after her father's murder. Hak had saved the both of you from Soowoon’s revenge on her father as you would not back down and go to their side either. Yona loved and respected you, so you owed her everything, and that still hadn’t changed. You still refer to her as Princess, just like Hak, but the two of you were closer than ever–going beyond the friendship a personal maid and a Princess should probably ever have. 

Owls hooted in the background and the sound of crickets surrounded you. You had all stopped for the night to set up camp, and were currently in your shared tent with Yona and Yoon. The young boy was fast asleep in the far corner of the tent, exhausted from running around all day, but you and Yona were wide awake from the excitement of the day–too pumped to even think about sleeping just yet. Giggles escaped your mouth at the girl-talk that was being exchanged between you both, then Yona began to blush as you asked her about her feelings for Hak. You had noticed the change in the atmosphere between them for a while now.

“He’s just…different from how I used to see him? Instead of just seeing him as that annoying kid back then, he’s more of a man in my eyes now… He said some uh, lovely things to me the other night and it just made me realize my feelings even more,” She hides her head in her hands, thinking back on the deep conversation she had with the raven haired man a few nights ago, but clears her throat and turns the attention away from herself, “What about you, Y/N? Seen anyone in any villages that have caught your eye? Or perhaps even someone among us, hmm?”

You could hear the slight tease in her voice at her question, she fully knew who you liked, but wanted to hear you say it yourself. After all, what fun is girl-talk if she was the only one dropping juicy information.

“Well…there is someone I like, but he’d never go for a girl like me…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Jae-ha would love you, Y/N. You’re gorgeous, kind, and you have a heart of gold, I see the way he looks at you whenever your back is turned.”

“W-what? How did you know it was Jae-ha?” You ask bewildered.

Yona laughs, placing a hand on your shoulder, “So it really is him? I was just making a lucky guess, wow.”

You huff. Perhaps it was a little obvious since you always got nervous around him and ONLY him. The slight disappointment that graced your features whenever he spoke of a beautiful woman he ran into in town. The tiny sparks of desire to have him speak to you with those lovely words, but it would never happen.

“He was probably just wondering why I can’t be so open with him like I am with everyone else,” You sigh. “I know I don’t belong here. You’re gorgeous and way above my social status. The other guys in our group are all very attractive as well, I’m the only one who sticks out like a sore thumb, but I guess I just have to deal with it!”

You fake a smile, regretting a little that you opened up too much. 

“Y/N, is that really how you’ve been feeling this whole time?” Yona asks, her voice now softer at your confession.

“It’s alright, really. I’m used to it by now, I don’t know why I suddenly decided to say that all right now. Everything’s okay!”

“No, everything’s not okay. Y/N, you are the most beautiful person I know. I don’t care if you think your extra weight makes you ugly compared to the rest of us, that doesn’t make a difference in my eyes and Jae-ha would be a fool to have that be a difference to him as well! Tell him how you feel! He would treat you like royalty.” Yona explains, a little enraged that you’ve been feeling this way all this time without her realizing it, “And I know we come from different backgrounds, but out here, we’re all the same. You and I are on the same level. You’re my best friend, and that won’t ever change! You are one of us, part of the happy hungry bunch! It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thank you, Princess Yona. You’ve been a great blessing to me and I’m so very grateful to be your friend,” You smile slightly, but it falls again when you think of Jae-ha. “It seems that Jae-ha only goes for thin, beautiful women though. I can’t imagine him directing those compliments to me when I’m the complete opposite of all those women…I- I guess I just wish he could see me as a beautiful woman despite my weight. Even if it was only for a second.”

Yona once again assures you that you are indeed beautiful and that nothing is wrong with you. She was a little lost for words on what else she could say to help you feel better, she just wished you could see yourself the way that she saw you–a beautiful woman, inside and out. 

“If I’m so beautiful, then why won’t he look at me the way I want him to?” You shout in frustration, a little too loudly.

Your conversation is cut short though as the sound of shuffling is heard from outside the tent, along with the distant murmuring of the rest of the boys who were still awake, engaged in small talk.

“Will you both shut your mouths? I’m trying to sleep here. Y/N stop being a wimp and just confess to him already. You’ll never know until you at least try!” Yoon groans out with a huff, before light snores escape his mouth once again. 

“He’s right,” Yona whispers now, not wanting to awaken the tempered boy again, “But I guess this can all wait for another day. Let’s sleep, it’s getting pretty late.”

You both yawn at the same time and laugh lightly to yourselves. Perhaps it could wait…

Sleep consumes Yona pretty quickly, but your mind is plagued with a million thoughts that keep you up all night. It would be a tough day tomorrow.

…

The next day, your journey together continues as you finish packing up the last of your camp and continue forward. 

Yona and Hak had run up ahead of everyone else in the early morning to get in some more arrow shooting practice while the rest of you moved to catch up at a decent pace. You lagged behind a bit, lost in thought of everything you spoke about last night.

“Careful, wouldn’t want to run into a tree and ruin your beautiful face, now would we?” The sudden voice of the man you were thinking of, startles you back to reality along with the gentle touch of his arms around your shoulder, guiding you around a tree that you were seconds from walking straight into.

But all you could think about now was the presence of his warmth on your shoulder along with a word you had always longed to hear addressed to you–beautiful.

“Huh?” You ask a little frazzled, trying to control your breathing from his still present arms around you.

“You almost ran into the tree back there,” He smiles, now removing his arms from around your shoulders and awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

You both were now lagging behind the group who had finally joined back up with Yona and Hak. Yona sends you a quick thumbs up from afar, mouthing a ‘good luck,’ with a wink.

“Thank you,” you mumble to Jae-ha, ignoring Yona’s cheekiness, and continuing to walk to the rest of the group with your eyes glued to the ground. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t tell him.

You hear the man sigh behind you before firm arms pick you up bridal-style, and jump into the air as you let out a yelp, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck and hiding your face into his chest from being so high up. You were surprised that he was even able to lift you, but I guess all the dragons were fairly strong.

Your heart was hammering in your chest–both from the sudden action of being in the air, but also from being in close proximity to your crush. You could hear his own heart hammering in his chest, probably from having the fatigue of jumping while carrying something heavy (at least that’s what you think, his heart is definitely pounding for other reasons).

You can hear the distant joyful hollering of Yona and Zeno from afar, praising the green-headed man for his bold actions, to which Jae-ha chuckles at. It isn’t long until you’re safe on the ground again, far enough from the group now to have some privacy together. Jae-ha sets you down as you timidly scoot away from him and sit on the grass, trying to calm yourself down.

“What’d you do that for?” You ask hesitantly.

“A little bird told me that you’ve been talking down on yourself, is that true?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you avoid his eyes. You physically couldn’t look him in the eyes, you were far too embarrassed. Where had he heard that from?

He takes a seat beside you, gently reaching for a strand of your hair and admiring it as he twists it between his fingers. You’re frozen in shock. What was going on? 

His hand abandons your hair and gently grabs your chin to face him as his other hand wraps around your waist.

“And I’d love to know where you heard that I wasn’t completely infatuated by your beauty,” he teases.

Your eyes widen in shock.

“In fact, I love every inch of you, from the plumpness of your thighs to the softness of your stomach, your magnificent chest, and your puffy cheeks. You’re absolutely enchanting– a diamond among stones,” he continues.

“Your eyes, they outshine the beauty of any other woman in this land, you know why? Because they belong to you. I don’t care how big you think you are, but never talk like that about yourself again.” There was a certain sternness behind his voice now, as if he was really serious and hurt that you would think so badly of yourself.

“How did you-”

“I heard everything last night, Y/N. You have no idea how much self-control it took for me to not just burst into that tent and tell you everything right then and there. But I’m here now, and I can’t move forward until you know how much I love you. You’re beautiful and I won’t have you think otherwise.”

You were beyond baffled.

“All this out of nowhere? You’re always off fawning over all the beauties in town, but never at me. You’re just saying this to make me feel better, right? Well, it’s okay. I do like you, Jae-ha, but I don’t need your pity. You don’t need to like me back, I’ll be o-”

You’re cut off by the feeling of Jae-ha’s lips on yours. You can feel the emotion behind them as he was almost desperate to show you how real his feelings for you were. You lean into him, wrapping your own arms around him now, fully into the steamy kiss.

He pulls aways with a pant, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he laughs. “I hope you believe me now.”

“And to answer your question, I didn’t want to scare you off. I know how bold I can be, and a part of me loved watching you from afar, loving, admiring you in secret. It was exhilarating trying not to get caught,” he confesses. 

Yona’s words from that night echo in your head of how she had seen him watching you a few times. He really did like you…

“I’m surprised you never caught my wandering eyes. We need to work on you being more aware of your surroundings, darling. What if it was some other man gawking at you, and not me? Not that I’d let that happen…but still.” There he goes again with his teasing.

You playfully hit him on the shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, “Shut up,” you mumble, very embarrassed by all his words. You still couldn’t believe it, it was like all your dreams became a reality over-night.

Was this a dream? Because if it was, you never wanted to wake up. You cuddle further into him, hiding the heat that was quickly rushing to your face. You were overwhelmed, but in a good way. His own arms slither around you in a tight embrace.

“This is real right? You’re not just saying all this?”

“Of course this is all real, darling. And I’ll keep saying it all until you believe it. You’re under my care now,” He whispers that last part and leaves a peck to the top of your head. 

“I’ll take good care of you,” he confirms again, making sure you know it.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 1/24/2023

[beaumars]

ain't no sunshine - j.seresin

Hi Everyone! Lori here! As I stated in this post, I once attempted to write an OC insert for TGM but I never got around to posting it because life got in the way -- and also because i deleted the tumblr app because i had gotten bored with it. i've had other accounts since then dedicated to other fandoms and when I got bored i would delete the app, a truly vicious never ending cycle. however, my tiny little lizard brain always came back to the Top Gun: Maverick fandom and so I once again redownloaded the app to check out the new content. Over the course of my tumblr career i have used a plethora of emails, i couldnt remember the last one I used for my last account so i tried the ol' reliable that I always used (i use another email now for work and professional purposes) and alas! i find my way back to beaumars, an account i forgot i had.

Back to the post I had linked above, though. When i opened my drafts i saw this fic, my proto-fic if you will, just sitting there and i realized i had no fucking idea where this was going, so for the past couple of days i fiddled with my brain and used a good section of a journal to plot out and world build the new and revamped version of this fic. So without further ado, i present Aint No Sunshine.

Special thanks to @credince--writes for assuring me that an OCs backstory can never be too tragic, @j-hauke for solidifying that dr. pepper is a funny call sign, and @thespillingvoid for encouraging me to post this two year old fic as I work on the newer version.

A multiple-part fic with an OC.

What would have been a multiple part fic with an OC.

***

SOMEWHERE, STATESIDE

"Sanchez! Seresin! Stop flirtin' up there, goddammit!"

Major General Thomas Avery wasn't usually known for sugarcoating shit. His tone of voice and way of flight was powerful and commanding, earning him the call sign 'Zeus', it left no space to play games, especially in the skies he seemed to reign on. Avery may be a patient and understanding man on the ground, but when it came to his domain, no one could escape his wrath. Not even the two aviators currently in the air. Without context, one would think the two were trading coy remarks with one another. They're far from right.

"Seresin, you smug ass! Cover me!"

Their objective: drop the dud on target while avoiding the 'enemy'. For every ten minutes they failed to get tone on one of their fellow aviators, another came into the sky to play. The final boss would be Major General Avery, who preferred hands-on methods when it came to flying with the aviators that passed through his base. So far, no one had even come close to even getting their sights on the older man before being 'shot' down. Seresin and Sanchez were the last pair.

Ego's, bragging rights, and a pink slip to the Major General's 1960 El Camino were on the line.

"You got it twisted if you think you're getting that damn car, Sanchez."

Christina Sanchez would roll her eyes if she wasn't focused on trying to complete their exercise, "I could give two shits about the car, Jake. I'm trying to do my job!"

"Keyword. Trying. You're not doing a very good job at it, Chris." He sassed.

"Keep up the chatter and I'll come up earlier than you want me to," Avery threatened. Promised. Stated. It didn't matter, they were screwed either way.

The sun had begun to set ten minutes ago after the longest-running pair had put up a good fight. Some Air Force pilot whose last name was Torres, and her very own wingman: Olen Reeves, callsign 'Icarus'. Jake and Christina were relentless in the heavens, taking their 'shot' no more than ten seconds after Falcon and Icarus entered their air space. In theory and on paper, Sanchez and Seresin are a great team, but their manners towards each other at the current moment were proving otherwise.

On the ground, he could only pray she didn't physically tear Seresin a new one when they landed.

"C'mon, Chris. Get him out of your head," he whispered.

The last rays of light were escaping the flying duo, both of them cursing their terrible luck, knowing what was to come.

Jake got tone on their last aviator, "Jesus, Chris, we would've been done by now if you'd stop leaning on me."

"You keep leaving me out to dry, shithead!" She retorted, "Maybe if you actually stuck closer and acted like a wingman, we wouldn't be in this situation."

"You need to stop relying on others, sweetheart. What are you gonna do when you're all alone up here with no one to watch your back? What're you gonna do then?"

"Shut up," she chastised.

"Suddenly, I spit some truth and you want me to be quiet?-" Jake was in disbelief, he knew the girl was prideful, but he didn't think he went that far in his critique.

"I said shut up, moron," she said, her breathing getting heavier.

"The hypocrisy is deadly, San-"

"Jake! Shut up!" She panicked, "it's gone quiet."

"Fuck."

"Strike three," was the only warning Zeus gave.

Both let out a string of curses as they barreled to avoid being targeted.

Using the last gleam of light in the evergrowing dark sky, Chris commanded, "Alright, Jake, take a hard left when I say," but as she turned her head to get a look at him, she saw that he had left her side in pursuit of Zeus, "you little shit, did you just leave me hanging!?"

"The only one hanging on is you, Sanchez. Get with the program or get shot."

Thomas Avery hated to admit it, but the Seresin kid was putting up a hell of a fight, and Sanchez was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately, it would be his downfall, as the sky went dark, Zeus taunted Jake, "Mistake number one: you left your wingman hanging, Seresin."

"My wingman is currently on the ground. Ain't that right, Falcon?"

On base, Falcon laughed, out of concern and amusement, "Zeus is gonna hand him his ass on a silver platter."

A chorus of 'mhm' and 'damn straight' could be heard in the vicinity.

Nearby, Olen Reeves could only look out the window and try and make out where the three of them were, once again praying, this time for her safety and that of her impromptu wingman.

Seresin was wearing a shit-eating grin until the next words fell from the Major General's mouth, "Mistake number two: you're up here with me now."

Jake went silent, he knew he fucked up, and now he was hoping Chris would come out of radio silence and tell him that she was on her way.

Nothing.

She wasn't even showing up on his radar.

"Why the sudden silence, kid?" Zeus was just playing with Jake's mind at this point, with the younger aviator already in his sights, ready to take the shot.

"Sanchez, I could really use your help right about now!"

Once again, nothing.

"Sanchez! Don't leave me hanging!" Jake could only maneuver so much in a dark sky he wasn't used to. He could hear beeping, letting him know that the experienced man was closing in on his plane. Jake mentally prepared for the call, but it never came.

"Sometimes a chef's gotta try what he's cooking, Seresin," Chris came out into the radar at the last minute and used her flares to temporarily blind Zeus and distract him, giving Jake an escape.

She barrelled and went right under her commanding officer's plane, hiding for a good second before hitting the brakes, using the hard stop; Zeus flew right past her. She sped back up and tailgated the man, being careful as to not end up in his jet wash, it only lasted so long before she and Zeus were engaged in a minor dogfight.

"Seresin, where are you?"

"Trying out the daily special, send my compliments to the chef," he said as he pursued Zeus on his own.

"Damnit, Seresin! Can you be a team player for once?" it seemed that in his presence all she could do was complain and vice versa. So bad together, yet so good, if only they could throw their egos out of the cockpit.

"You're hanging on well, Seresin. Unfortunately, it won't be enough," the beeping was loud, it was a lock, "that's a shot."

"Fucking shit!-"

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Zeus toyed, "Fly back to base, kid. It was a good run."

Was.

It was a word that would haunt him for years to come.

"Now, Sanchez. Where could you be hiding?" Thomas asked himself out loud.

It was silent for a good thirty seconds when he felt a force push him towards the right, "There you are."

Zeus went to follow the plane when suddenly, the force came from the right this time, rattling his plane and giving him difficulty locking on her. He didn't know how she was doing that or how fast she was coming at him or even where she was coming at him, but it was starting to unsettle him, dare he say, she was scaring him.

The older man leveled his breathing, taking a minute to recompose himself. Mistake number one.

The beeping came too fast, followed by the lock, and three words, "That's a shot."

Down below, everyone, from crew to pilots alike had their mouths hanging open.

"Holy shit, she did it," Olen breathed.

Another pilot by the name of Carol then shouted, "She got the fucking car!"

The silence then turned into groans of defeat.

Jake sat in his cockpit, having landed minutes beforehand, ripping his helmet off in anger as he heard Chris' announcement.

"Get back to base, kid. That was one hell of a fight you put on."

"Thank you, sir," she acknowledged breathlessly. Chris was riding a high as she landed, the first person to greet her on the tarmac was none other than Olen.

He crushed her in an embrace for a few seconds before pulling back and reprimanding her, "what the hell were you thinking?"

"I- well- I wasn't exactly-"

"Thinking." Finished the Major General, he came up from behind the embracing pilots, "she was doing. Those are the makings of a great pilot, ladies, and gentlemen. You all could learn a little something from that."

Sanchez turned to see that all the other pilots and WSOs had congregated, Jake hanging in the back.

"Seresin," Zeus called out to the man, "You had me on the ropes there for a bit too, young man."

"Let me guess, gotta stop leaving my wingman hanging?" his tone with little to no emotion.

It was late, and Zeus just wanted to go home, so he just stayed silent for a moment before reaching into his flight suit pocket and pulling out a piece of paper, "As promised... Nyx."

Confused, Chris asked, "Sir?"

Zeus just smiled and walked away, "I want everyone back on this tarmac by o six hundred hours, not a minute later," he called over his shoulder.

[septembersghost]

my queue was supposed to run out tonight (11/19) - i'm nothing if not someone who clings to dates and anniversaries, and exactly a month ago, i realized i had enough posts stowed in it to last until today. of all the days. kismet. you know when it's time to go. but i ended up adding some posts from my (still copious) drafts, and no matter how i finagled it, it was impossible to make them all fit by the time today ended. so it gets a little bit of extra time. maybe, in honor of this blog's existence, that's fitting.

you all know this, i've said it, typically in gratitude, many times already. this blog was never meant to last. i came back in november 2020 expecting a couple of months, maybe to be here until the new year. i told very few people, anticipating the goodbye, not wanting to cause anyone undue anguish when i had to vanish again. something i didn't expect was the sheer (admittedly devasting) emotion that would tie itself to those two weeks when i started interacting again, nor that it would have any outreach or impact, but somehow it did. then time kept spinning on, extending itself, gossamer threads unfurling each day. my following kept growing, far beyond what i could have anticipated, greater than i'd ever established on any of my previous blogs. moving around is unfortunately a pattern at this point, every time for reasons that felt quietly catastrophic. not being able to pay bills for a while. angel's death and the ensuing difficult circumstances. so here, i kept anxiously imagining why i'd eventually have to leave, how to plan for it. poverty issues. the homelessness we were facing through the entirety of a couple of years until last august (and my dad having to be the saving grace). worsening health issues. i never knew, i couldn't predict it, i just worried about it. often tried to brace for it. maybe i got too comfortable this year, because this was when i started to think it wouldn't happen, that i really could stay. little did i know. and the reasons...are not reasons i ever fathomed, why would i have? how could i have? i wish it weren't so. (i wish a lot of things.)

i thought sometimes about the words i would leave you with, none of which are suitable now. i almost wrote nothing, yet found that feeling wrong, couldn't leave without something about parting.

thus it turns out i'm leaving before it's strictly necessary, before it's the fear of personal catastrophe coming to fruition, not knowing what i'll do or where i'll metaphorically go, as that is the downside of chronic illness and isolation narrowing this to my sole outlet. (lyrics keep running through my mind, there are always lyrics stuck in my head. no matter where i go, there'll be memories that tug at my sleeve, but there will also be more to question, yet more to believe...teach me to be more adaptive...help me say goodbye). my body is in such a fragile state right now (my mind not far behind) that maybe what i need to do is rest. just rest for a while.

this blog was never meant to grow the way it did, to take asks and have conversations like i did, that was a somewhat new (sometimes scary! often fun) experience for me. it's one that will never be replicated. to my loyal and lovely anons, i'm so sorry that i had to cut you off unexpectedly and couldn't reinstate communication - i know that you weren't able to reach out to me as soon as i did that, and that certainly wasn't your fault, it was a response to the tenor of this website. i apologize for the hundreds of messages i never had the chance to answer. i'm appreciative of the things you shared with me and all the times we got to talk.

i sincerely hope some of you learn to be kinder and wiser and less reactionary and more willing to learn and to listen rather than to attack those who have never wronged you and who do not deserve that. i'm being too nice, but i hope you learn that misusing your supposed social justice to do harm and foment hatred and stew in ignorant cruelty makes any principles you purport to have utterly void. my hope for that is low at the moment, but it's still got to be there. waiting to be found.

to those of you who have never been anything but kind, you are true treasures, the lights in the darkness, the loving and compassionate embodiment of human spirit. some of you have (quite literally) helped keep my mom and me alive, and i can never repay that or do enough in this life to quantify it. some of you have been here for me every single day, to listen and laugh and cry and understand. i don't think i would've bothered to fight through these past three years had i not had your presences in my life. i wouldn't have had as much of a reason. there are times when i still haven't felt like i had a reason, i struggle through so many varied griefs, but then i continued to wake up, and would come on here and find something joyful or beautiful or affirming that someone had sent or posted, and it gave me an anchor. there are passions and interests i shared or discovered here that were so uplifting and enlightening, and i will carry them in my heart always. being here to find those was such a blessing. being here with you to indulge in them was such a blessing. thank you. i pray your continued paths have more of that ahead. look at all the things you've done for me. there are certain things that once you have no time can wear away.

you know that line from the wizard of oz?: hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable. maybe that isn't true, maybe our hearts being broken is proof of something. there are people who hurt me on such a profound level who i know weren't affected by it at all, but i refuse to define my sensitivity as a negative. my softness (too soft for all of it, indeed) does not quite provide me with a weapon, but it doesn't crumple. hearts can be broken repeatedly and still beat, which i've thought about a lot lately. shattered souls just make a new mosaic. it's a different picture than it was before, but the color and light persists. and in the remains of that, a handful of people have shown me depths of caring and resilience that i wouldn't have gotten to hold onto otherwise, which is an extraordinary thing. the precious rarities have to mean something more, don't they? i would think so. i believe it. or i'm trying. i keep trying with all my might.

maybe i stayed too long at the fair. maybe this is a consequence of overplaying my hand, gambling a little too much with time to where it had to teach me something. maybe i needed the reminder that sometimes we have to fight to retain our spirits, and other times we have to retreat. maybe i needed a reminder that all that extra time was a miracle. i don't take it for granted.

whether we've spoken directly, be that consistently or in scattered flurries, whether we've interacted in very personal ways or simply in liked hearts on the dash, i hope there was goodness and light in it. i hope there's a memory i leave here that's sweet. (as long as i'm borrowing phrases, i hope you'll think of me fondly sometimes.) i hope there was something warm and enriching here. i hope you know what you've been and meant to me. i said so many times that this blog was my cozy haunted house - the ghosts will linger here forever, and i know they'll never mind if you want to step in and visit.

with all my heart, i love so many of you so dearly. i am so lucky to have your friendships. please move gently through life. please hold onto the things that illuminate it for you, and provide that where you can. please do your best to repair even the smallest of tears in the world. you are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

there must be lights burning brighter somewhere.

something yet remains. i remain. and i do my best to be brave.

[writercole]

The Confession

Summary: Jake found her. Now what's he going to do?

Words: 1510

Warnings: Physical assault, confession of feelings, lying

A/N: I can't believe this is the end. I'm technically drafting this post before the series even starts for you guys so I have no idea how much you're going to even like it. But I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Aside from Sounds of Someday, I think this is my favorite.

Tag list is done. Please follow @coleslibrary and turn on notifications for story updates.

Jake paced on the sidewalk, trying to figure out what to do. He’d finally gotten his mom to give up Y/N’s location. It was a fight that took a three hour lecture about hypocrisy and waiting too long, but she relented, threatening to disown him if he hurt her adoptive daughter again. He’d planned a speech before he got on the plane, rehearsed it for the several hour flight, but now that he was here, he had no idea what to say. On his third lap around the block, he finally got the courage to walk up to the door and knock, deciding to just wing it.

The door swung open to reveal a bleach blonde man a couple inches shorter than Jake, one he’d met only a time or two. “Billy,” he grumbled.

“Bagman,” Billy spat, leaning his forearm on the door frame. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to Y/N,” Jake told him, raising his chin and daring him to deny the request, “and it’s Hangman.”

“She ain’t here,” Billy informed him, “and I doubt she’d want to talk to you anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, Bagman, that she didn’t want you to know where she was for the last month. She told me that you’d fucked her over for the last time and that she was done with you.”

“Fucked her over?” Jake scoffed. “Are you sure you don’t have the two of us confused? I’m not the one who bailed on her four months ago after trying like hell to dull her spark for a year.”

“I didn’t bail on her,” Billy denied, “she broke up with me.”

“You were leaving her and you know it. Now just tell me where she is before I beat it out of you.”

“I don’t know why you’re even making a fuss over an easy whore,” Billy sneered. “You could get anyone you want, or so I hear. Though I have to say, it’s some damn good pussy for an easy whore.”

Jake didn’t even realize he was moving. He saw red as soon as the words exited Billy’s mouth, his arm cocking back and pushing his fist into Billy’s jaw with enough force to knock the man backwards several steps.

Tires squealing on asphalt was the only thing that stopped Jake from swinging again.

She was rushing out of the house to handle an issue on base when Billy finally showed up to talk. Instead of telling him to come back, she told him to sit in the kitchen and wait for her. She didn't plan on being gone for almost an hour. She groaned in frustration when she finally climbed back into her car.

She was halfway back when her phone alerted her to camera activity on her porch. She checked it at a stoplight and swore when she saw that Jake was standing at the door talking to Billy. Unmuting the video, she listened to their argument as she drove, speeding and taking corners much faster than she should have. She pulled into the driveway and saw Jake swing, hitting Billy in the jaw.

“Shit,” she swore again, rushing out of her car and into the middle of the two men. “What is going on?”

“He just showed up here and punched me!” Billy accused, rubbing his jaw and shooting daggers at Jake.

“I came over here to talk to you and this guy,” Jake explained, pointing at Billy in the doorway, “wanted to start shit and called you an easy whore. So yes, I punched him.”

“I never said that!” Billy shouted, stepping towards Jake. “He’s the one who called you a whore.”

“You son of a bitch!” Jake yelled, lunging for Billy.

She grabbed Jake’s arm and he stopped in his tracks, taking a step behind her. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that guy,” Jake spat, “is a total jerk and you deserve someone better. Someone who respects you and would treat you like a queen.”

“And who would that be, Jake? I don’t exactly have a whole lot of options.”

“He’s just running his mouth so that he can sleep with you,” Billy goaded from behind her, “that’s all he’s ever wanted from you. Why he thinks you’re easy, I’ll never know.”

“You lying bastard!” Jake shouted as he pushed her away, pulling his fist back to hit Billy again, stopping when something got between them.

Valkyrie stood between them and pushed Jake back, reaching in her pocket and unlocking her phone. She navigated to the recording of the argument and pressed play, Billy’s voice clear as day repeating the words he was denying. She stared him down, daring him to tell her that the recording was wrong.

“Please stop lying, Billy,” she growled as she locked her phone.

“What? Baby, you can’t believe this guy. He’s dicked you around for how long now?” Billy rebutted, taking a step towards her.

Jake stepped up behind her, staring daggers at the man trying to bargain his way back into Y/N’s arms.

“Get out, Billy. You can’t own up to your actions, even when they’re on video. We’re done. Over. Go find yourself another easy whore,” she repeated, her words sharp and final. 

“Fine,” Billy spat as his eyes became fiery, “but don’t come crawling back to me when this piece of shit breaks your heart.” 

Before Jake could make a move, she had pulled her fist back and released it right into Billy’s nose. 

“Get. Out. Of. My. House,” she sneered as she looked down on him.

Billy turned and stomped away, firing up his car and peeling out of her driveway. She turned to Jake with slumped shoulders and watery eyes, looking up at his face in exhaustion.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

“Now, don’t be mad,” he prefaced, “but Mom told Phoenix when she called looking for information.”

“Why are you here, then, Hangman?” she sighed.

“You didn’t say goodbye when you left,” he said.

“Really? You’re here because I didn’t say goodbye?” she scoffed. “I told you that Simpson needed me -”

“No, he didn’t,” Jake interrupted. “Simpson didn’t call you back. You called him to get you out.”

“I don’t want -”

“You need to tell me why you left,” he whispered, “please. I have to know why you ran away.”

She sighed again, squeezing her eyes shut. “You have to know? Okay, fine. I heard you talking to Suze. Telling her that we weren’t together and that she didn’t need to be jealous. I couldn’t take it. I thought…” she trailed off, biting her lip and tapping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought that something had shifted the day before, that we had something. I know we said no feelings but I was right. I fell in love with you and you don’t feel the same way. So I left. You could have your time with Suze and I could get away and not have to see it.”

“Is that all you heard?” he questioned quietly, searching her face for answers.

“What else did I need to hear? You said plenty,” she snapped, her gaze finally meeting his again, fire burning behind the tears.

“I did say plenty, but you didn’t hear all of it,” he replied as he stepped towards her, hooking his finger under her chin to keep her focus. “I told Suze that it would never happen with her. That it was a mistake that I was ever with her and that you were the one I wanted by my side. 

“You see, it happened so slowly that I didn’t realize it. When Suze approached me, I looked for you, I tried to find you so that I could get away from her without my family asking me why I was pissed. When I finally found you, you were leaving. In that moment, when you were running away, I knew I was a goner. You jumped into that cab and you took my heart with you. I’ve barely been able to breathe since you’ve been gone.

“I know I said that I wasn’t trying to marry you, but that’s changed, Y/N. I’m hopelessly in love with you and I don’t want to spend another day without you by my side.” 

Tears started falling down her cheeks, the fire in her eyes had died out only to be replaced with hope and longing. “Don’t mess around with me,” she said, her voice wavering with emotion.

“I would never dream of it,” he assured her, his thumbs brushing the tears from her face. “You’re it for me, Y/N. And if you say no, if you tell me to get out and never come back, I will. But I really hope you don’t. I hope you give me the chance to be the man you have always deserved.”

“Jake,” she mumbled as she gazed up at him.

“Hmm?”

“Kiss me.”

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