#and the other I’ve still never written a real story with but he’s a teacher

[slashyrogue]

Me: *finally watches Riders of Justice & opens ao3 hoping to find at least one of two HEU pairings I’ve already created in my head for Markus & finds not even one*

[deconstructthesoup]

The Web House

Full disclosure—I did not have this all typed out before today, but this won the poll, and I do nothing if not deliver.

*cracks knuckles*

So, this is kind of an inverse to my already well-established AU, The Wittebane Archives, over on AO3—Luz is the Archivist and going through the horrors, there’s an equal amount of deep character moments as well as incredibly chilling encounters, it’s great, it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, please go check it out. You got tragic Lumity, tragic Huntlow, wholesome Veesha, Skara and Boscha content, and Belos being much more morally grey than you’d expect. Also, there’s some fucked-up monster content.

ANYWAYS!

I finally decided to do an AU where a young Jon ends up on the Boiling Isles, and I took a similar approach with the tone that I did with Wittebane Archives. In that story, while I still highlighted the horror of the world they live in, I decided to make it more manageable for the characters and give them chances to still find ways to feel human, reflecting the fact that TOH is a more gentle and optimistic show (and I much prefer happy endings to sad ones). So, with The Web House, I decided that the Isles in this world are the Isles we would’ve gotten if Dana had been allowed to do her original vision… which is to say, all of the scary and horrific parts are kicked up to their extent. No sugarcoating here, the demon realm is explicitly referred to as Hell.

Now, to the characters!

Jon: He is, of course, in the role of Luz. Rather than being a naive ray of sunshine from Connecticut, he’s a prickly, anxious, and socially awkward kid from Bournemouth who gets in trouble for his constant refrain of correcting the teacher, having no interest in the assignments, and his habit of reading during class. This eventually leads to him nearly getting sent to a camp for “troubled kids…” until his habit for wandering off and getting distracted by things that are out of the ordinary leads him to stumble in through a portal to the Boiling Isles. Once there, Jon is absolutely blown away by the wonder and horror of the world, and he finally finds something that he’s truly passionate about—though, time and time again, he’s told that he can’t do magic because he’s a human, and he gets very defensive about it. It takes him a while for his walls to come down.

Gerry: He’s Eda—a snarky, anti-establishment, laid-back criminal with a lot of trauma and a habit of unintentionally adopting kids. Instead of an Owl Beast curse, he has a Spider Beast curse, and is referred to as the “Web Witch” by the denizens of the Isles. Gerry was actually pretty happy pre-curse, mainly because his mother died before she could do a lot of real harm… but after getting cursed, everything came crashing down, culminating in Gerry accidentally blinding his father and running away to hide in the woods. Since then, he has a hard time really letting people in, and the fact that he’s a wanted criminal doesn’t help. But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t regularly take in strays. (Also, the curse turns his hair black, but it’s naturally red. You’ll see why in a sec.)

Annabelle: She is a slightly more mature version of King—a spiderlike demon child that Gerry found and took in at a young age. Knowing full well that she’s adorable, she takes advantage of the fact that people think she’s sweet and naive to get what she wants, which leads to a lot of shenanigans in the first-season arc. As the story goes on, and she finally takes the push to learn more about her past, she starts learning how to be responsible and to be more honest with herself and others, though she never loses her talent for deception. She’s a curious and devious little kid.

Helen: She’s a Hooty equivalent. Just a sassy door being who helps keep the Web House in tip-top shape.

Agnes: She’s Lilith—Gerry’s older sister and the head of the Emperor’s Coven. Of course, Agnes being Agnes, she’s a lot less tightly wound than Lilith at first and is genuinely sweet and caring, just deeply misguided. She truly believes that Gerry joining the EC is the best option for him, and she’s always been tormented with guilt over cursing him. After leaving the coven, Agnes tries her hardest to make up for lost time, both with Gerry, Eric, and their great-aunt Gertrude, even if she really has no idea how to interact with people outside of being the polite and perfect role model. It’s a learning curve.

Basira: She takes the place of Willow, though her character development is less about being insecure and slowly gaining confidence and more about being stoic and apathetic and learning to express her emotions and fight for what she believes in. Basira has natural talent in both Beastkeeping and Plants, and while she initially thinks that switching to the Plant track would be better for her, she eventually decides to take both classes once it’s approved. She’s painfully logic-minded and has a lot of internal doubts about the coven system, though until she meets Jon and hears his casual breakdown of how valuing certain types of magic over others just doesn’t make sense, she doesn’t yet have the courage to voice it. On her end, Basira turns out to be just the friend that Jon needs—someone who believes in him, but isn’t afraid to tell him when he’s being an ass.

Georgie: She’s in Gus’s position, though instead of being a prodigy at Illusion magic, she’s a prodigy at Abominations magic… and is more than a little terrifying as a result. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a wonderful person, but her keen interest in both humans and in subsects of magic that are more than a little macabre can be a little off-putting to some, which is why Basira’s her only real friend at first. After their initial meeting, which consists of Georgie excitedly asking Jon for a blood sample and him being incredibly spooked by her amazement at meeting an actual human, the two end up getting along like a house on fire, and are basically enablers in each other’s chaos. Georgie’s family doesn’t have a lot of money or social standing in the Isles, so she works twice as hard in order to prove herself and get better opportunities. This leads to burnout. Frequently.

Melanie: She’s… okay, so, she’s Matt in that she’s a fellow member of Georgie’s human appreciation club and a new student at Hexside, though she and Georgie don’t really have a rivalry beyond friendly ribbing. However, she’s also Viney, in that she’s a member of the Detention track who helps kickstart multi-track studies. She and Jon don’t get along immediately, mostly due to the fact that he unintentionally ratted her out for studying both Oracle and Construction magic the first time they met, but the two form a begrudging alliance during a basilisk attack and later become actual friends. Melanie’s a sucker for drama and conflict, and she carries that with her—whether she’s in the Human Appreciation Society, the Flyer Derby team, or just hanging out with Georgie and the rest of the gang. She’s fun.

Martin: He’s Amity, in that he’s a depressed rich kid who’s severely isolated due to parental expectations. Due to his incredible talent at Illusions, a lot of kids end up coming to him when they need to cheat, though they never actually become friends with him due to everyone seeing him as a quiet weirdo who never had to work for anything. When Jon comes along, Martin is distrustful of anybody claiming to want to be his friend, and he doesn’t help things by accidentally demeaning Jon’s interest in magic—which, in Jon’s eyes, cements him as a rival. After a string of miscommunication and failed interactions, the two eventually reach a middle ground and become friends… which later leads into Martin developing a gigantic crush on Jon. Which is later reciprocated. Aside from the romantic drama, Martin learns to both become more open and to stand up for himself, becoming the kind yet bitchy individual we all know and love.

Tim & Danny: They’re Edric and Emira—Martin’s class-clown yet charming older brothers who love teasing their little brother and getting into general mischief. Tim’s the oldest, and he’s usually the one who shows a lot of actual worry towards Martin, though he’s still a very flashy individual and tends to do a lot of crazy things just for the hell of it. Danny, on the other hand, has some identity issues that stem from being a middle child who doesn’t quite know who he is outside of his family, and he tends to throw himself into something if he thinks it’ll make him stand out. They’re both illusionists, like Martin, and while Tim and Danny are biological brothers, all of them are adopted. (Also, Tim eventually starts taking Bard and Beastkeeping classes, while Danny starts taking Potions.)

Daisy: If my decision to make Basira Willow hasn’t tipped you off, Daisy is Hunter—the Golden Guard of the Emperor’s Coven, praised as a teen prodigy yet possesses no magical talent of her own. She’s loyal to the emperor and genuinely believes in everything she’s been taught, and she is absolutely horrible at expressing any emotion other than smugness or anger, believing fear and sentiment to be weaknesses and being deathly afraid of being perceived as anything other than strong. Daisy is a very vulnerable person underneath her hard exterior, and she can be incredibly soft with people she cares about… though, of course, she’s not given much opportunity to connect with anyone outside of the castle, or inside, for that matter. In the canon of TMA, Daisy is a truly fascinating character to me, and I knew that the only character she could feasibly be is Hunter—hey, person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them, meet other person who did bad things for a cause they believed was just and had that illusion stripped from them. And they both love wolves. So, yeah, she’s a very traumatized child soldier who makes the gradual evolution into a protective big sister friend and a disaster lesbian.

Sasha: I had to make her Vee. I had to. Even if you take away the whole fact that she was NotThemed and how similar that is to the basilisks, the fact that she was almost made the Archivist makes her perfect for that role. Her general story is pretty much the same as in canon—she’s a basilisk who was created in a lab for the purpose of studying magic draining and ran away to the human realm, falling in love with it almost as soon as she arrived. Once in the human realm, Sasha develops a love for computers and manages to make friends with the people she meets at the camp (I’m not sure who they are yet, though I’m leaning towards making them Sam and Colin—Alice already has a role), and when she and Jon actually have a chance to meet, they almost immediately bond as siblings after the distrust and animosity is thrown out the window. Also, Sasha’s existence helps Jon finally fully connect with his grandmother, so… bonus!

Oliver: He’s Raine. As much as I love Doorkeay, I have a different role in mind for Micheal, and Oliver’s dynamic with Gerry as two gorgeous witchy goth men connected with The End is something that I’d love to see more of. Anyways, um… so, Oliver and Gerry’s story is pretty similar to canon—they met when they were in high school, were best friends from that point on, and eventually started dating, though they broke up due to Gerry being tight-lipped about the curse and Oliver eventually making the decision to join the Bard coven. Oliver didn’t start being a rebel leader right away, though, since he initially believed that the best way to fix things was by changing it from the inside, but after years of that not working, he finally caved and started the BATs. He’s very practiced at pretending that he’s just an unassuming workaholic, and he often claims stage fright in order to continue operating under the radar. Oliver’s a smart dude.

Trevor: He’s… well, he takes the position of Eberwolf as the Beastkeeping coven head, but he also acts as Darius for a lot of the story beats—mostly because he takes the role as Daisy’s actually decent paternal figure. Trevor comes off as an old grump who doesn’t like people or fun, and he’s seen many a Golden Guard die in his time as a head of a coven… so, when he sees Daisy be rebellious for the first time in her life, his wolf dad instincts kick in. Not quite sure where Julia fits in yet, but she’ll fit in. Somewhere.

Jane: Terra. She has to be Terra. Gross plant woman who pretends to be sweet but is actually psychotic. She’d definitely suggest turning children into mulch as an apt punishment for failing a small challenge.

Nikola: Same deal, she’s Adrian. She can’t be anyone else.

Peter: He’s in the position of Odalia—an antisocial yet jovial businessman who reeks of old money. He also deals in security and weaponry, though he primarily uses oracle magic instead of Abominations, and he’s very interested in studying the effects illusion magic has on the mind. Of course, he can’t actually practice illusion magic, so he has to turn to other avenues for research… such as adopting three gifted illusionists. Needless to say, Peter is not a good parent by any measure,  and he kind of holds the fact that he adopted his sons over their heads so they don’t step out of line. Unfortunately, the kiddos don’t have an Alador equivalent (as far as I’ve decided), so the only person they can really go to outside of each other is Peter. Not a good environment, really. And it’s definitely complicated by the reason why their dad has all this standing and power, beyond just the family connections…

Elias/Jonah: So, he is in Belos’s place as the emperor who’s secretly a human witch hunter, but his motivations aren’t the same. Rather than planning on killing witches simply because he hates magic, his intention is to drain the magic from them and take it for himself—well, for humans, but mostly himself. Elias is also a lot more… shall we say, lax about interacting with other witches, which is why he has zero qualms with having an on-again, off-again relationship with Peter Lukas. And several other men throughout his time on the Isles. Yeah, Philip may be too deep in a Puritanical mindset to claw his way out of Narnia and admit that he’s not straight, but Jonah is a harlot and that’s a part of his character that stays constant. I’m not gonna go into his backstory, for spoiler reasons, but I will say that Gwendolyn is a Caleb equivalent, and Alice is her Evelyn. I’m riding on the Dyhard train and you can’t stop me.

Micheal (Distortion): And last but not least, I couldn’t make our boy Micheal anybody other than The Collector! I know that technically, he and Helen are kind of the same character, but she just doesn’t have the silly vibes that he does. All I can really say is that his story is… well, it matches up with in canon, except he’s more of a preteen than a kid. We know so little about Collie’s past outside of the events that led them to be trapped, and what we know about Micheal himself—pre-Distortion, of course—is equally as murky and unclear, so… yeah. He’s a funky neon star kid who originally manifests as a funky shadow kid.

And yeah, I think that’s it for now.

[whisperedgreetings]

What Boy Meets Maria Means to Me

SPOILERS AHEAD

CW: mentions of SA and pedophilia. These topics aren’t comfortable even with me most of the time. Please stay safe, okay?

So. I picked up this manga because I fell in love with the art style and heard it didn’t have the usual fetishization most MLM stories have in manga. It seemed sweet, if not exceedingly dorky. Two theater kids fall in love. A one-shot MLM grumpy x sunshine story.

I had no idea what I was getting into.

“There’s nothing worse than always being alone.”

Now, this story felt deeply personal for a number of reasons. Let’s start with the main character, Taiga. He wants to be the best actor in Japan. He’s loud, determined, and doesn’t seem to notice when people find him utterly annoying, nor does he seem to understand the social rules of the world around him. All in all, he reminds me a lot of my current boyfriend.

And then there’s Maria. Or rather, Arima.

I’ve never been so hurt by how close to home a character hit before.

Arima was raised by a mother who wanted a daughter. He was raised as a girl, and often felt enough like one to be okay with it. But it never felt quite right. On this alone, I could relate a lot to that as a more feminine trans man. Girly clothes felt fine, being referred to as a girl didn’t feel inherently wrong. But being a boy felt entirely right, and that was something to feel guilty about. But there’s more than that.

Now. This is hardly something I like to discuss, so I’ll keep it to a minimum. At a certain point, Arima’s insecurity with his gender got to a point where he was driven to ask his teacher how he’d feel if Arima really was a boy. And, as soon as that was said, that same teacher assaulted him.

Of course, reading this was beyond painful. It’s natural to read something like that and get the pit in your stomach that’s usual when hearing of other’s tragedies. But how the event changed Arima meant just as much. The event led Arima to view being seeing seen as a man as dangerous, as something scary and vulnerable. And he found safety in his femininity, as that was never subjected to the horrors his masculinity did.

It’s often speculated that trans men are the way they are because of some bad memory they have with their born gender, rather than it being a part of their identity. I face the blunt of this rather often, as a trans man that also happens to be an SA survivor. Seeing this told from an AMAB perspective made it feel less belittling, somehow. My struggle with my identity since that point feels more real. My assault followed the same pattern as Arima’s. I disclosed with someone I trusted that I might really be a boy. And then I was assaulted by that person the same day. And like Arima, I still find safety in being perceived as feminine. I still often hide behind it, as being seen as the man I am seems more vulnerable. I’ve never seen my exact feelings written out the way I feel them.

Now, back to Taiga. I mentioned that he reminds me a lot of my boyfriend. Taiga, throughout the book, seems to look up to Arima for his talents. Arima however, is jealous of Taiga for his ability to be so open and outspoken about who he is and what he wants for himself. Neither understand how the other could want to be more like them. This was something me and my partner struggled a lot with as well, for a lot of the same reasons. It felt so silly and cliche at the time, for us to be jealous of each other like that. And yet, there it was. Not laughed at. Not mocked. It was seen as a real struggle. The reason we grew was the reason they did. It was real growth, and growth I can be proud of.

“I couldn’t help looking up to you. I didn’t want you to see my weaknesses. But it didn’t matter what I showed you. With you, I could be masculine. I could be myself. That’s how I felt. It was refreshing. And now, I really can’t let you see how pathetic I am.”

I’m happy I can say that I was able to make the same progress Arima’s character did. Healing is painful. PTSD is painful. And seeing my own painful view of the world put into words hurt. But I needed it. And I thank the author for giving this to me. I will treasure it forever, even if it was only one small book in a sea of other wonderful works. This one is mine.

For those who read all this but never read the manga, thank you, I guess, for being interested in what I have to say. If you decide you want to pick it up, please check the content warnings beforehand. And if it grows to be too much, drop it. Nothing is worth risking your mental health for, let alone a single book. What means so much to me does not need to mean as much to you.

I love you all dearly.

[casper has logged off]

[skylarmoon71]

Clark Kent (Smallville) Short Story - Chapter 20

You’ve been trying to figure out what this means. 

Your intention was to go to Harry, but you aren’t sure what exactly you can say. So your decision is to just make it through this last class. With the weekend coming up, it’ll give you a window to work through all of this. 

That’s why that morning when you left you were determined to keep yourself grounded. Maybe if you divert your focus you won’t shift into some other reality again. 

Yet, even now as the teacher is droning on about some lesson but you can’t focus. 

Your vision is struggling to stay on the board, and you massage your eyelids. 

It’s getting harder.

“Where did you come from!!” 

You jump at the yell, and the students in your general area back up at your presence. There’s a boy sitting right next to you. He looks more intrigued than scared. 

“Peter, get away from her!!” 

A girl calls. 

He moves out of his seat. 

“You don’t have to be scared, I know you’re not bad. Spider sense.” He whispers. 

“Spider Sense.. A-Are you..Peter Parker?” 

He’s shocked. 

“You know my name..” 

You feel as though you’re going to hyperventilate. 

“Ms Wells, Ms.Wells Ms. Wells!” 

Your gasp, looking up, and all eyes in the room are trained in you. 

Clark is sitting at your side, and he watches you with worry. You swallow, massaging the bridge of your nose. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t feel too well.” 

Concern flashes in the teacher’s eyes.

Clark stands.

“I’ll take her to the nurse’s office.” Your teacher nods. 

“Y-Yes, thank you Mr. Kent.” 

Clark moves to your side immediately, helping you to your feet, You stand. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She shakes her head. 

“No need to apologize. Please just worry about getting better. “ Clark guides you out of the classroom. 

Walking through the hallway, you straighten, and Clark pulls his hands away hesitantly when you look unaffected. 

“(Y/N) are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, I just needed to get out of class. Clark, we need to make an excuse to leave early. Something is..something is happening.” 

He needs no more considering. From your tone, it’s clear that this is serious. 

So with the permission of the school, you both left. 

Clark hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a second. 

The minute you get through your door, you’re looking for Harry. 

He lifts his head, clearly confused as to why you’re home so early. His laptop is set in front of him and the second he catches wind of Clark’s worried expression he races to your side. 

“What’s wrong!” 

The wind has tossed your hair. Despite your uncertainty in this situation, you still wear a smile. Harry has proved time again that he’ll drop everything to protect you. 

You take a breath, guiding him to the couch. He follows and so does Clark. When you’re all seated you finally speak. 

“I think Aaron did something, triggered something in my body.” 

You play with the hem of your shirt. 

“I know I should have said something sooner but I wasn’t really sure how to say it. I think I might be..I think I might be traveling between realities.”

You know how crazy it sounds, and more than anything you want it to be a dream, but you had all literally seen a transparent apparition of your father. 

“Harry, the theory of the multiverse, is it real?” 

He stares in awe. He’d written about a lot in his time, but a lot of his works were theory at best. When he published that book, it was way before he could run at the speed of light. Although he hasn’t actually traveled through reality, he hasn’t completely abandoned the idea. There was so much he was still learning about his own power. 

“I..I always theorized, but I’ve never, I’ve never had proof.” 

You run a hand through your hair. 

“I think it’s possible. Harry I’ve been time traveling, or leaping or something. Whatever Aaron did it unlocked something. First at Star Labs and then in the library, now at school. It keeps happening.  I don’t know what’s going on, I don’t know how to control it. I-I’m scared..” 

You seem a bit panicked and Clark takes your hand. He can’t really get rid of it. Your fears. 

Harry wishes he could just tell you that it’ll all be alright that he’ll protect you. But he can’t promise that. 

What he realizes is that he can’t hope to protect you from everything. He needs to equip you to protect yourself. So that what happened with Aaron, it never occurs again. 

Harry swallows. 

“I need you to do it again. To jump.” 

The request makes your eyes crazy. 

“W-What! N-No I can’t!” I’ve just barely gotten it to stop. If I stop thinking for a moment I could get lost again. I can’t Harry, I can’t!” 

You stand and he rises, taking your shoulder. 

“Listen to me (Y/N), you know I’d never let anything happen to you if it were within my power. But I can’t protect you. Not from this. You need to jump. Whatever he did, you can control it. The both of you are blood. You must have similar abilities. You have to tap into it. It’s the only way you can hope to gain control.” 

You’re on the verge of tears. 

“W-What if..what if I do and it turns me into him. What if I become a monster..” 

The very thought is frightening, and Harry smiles, wiping the single tear that runs down your cheek. 

“I have faith in you. You’re my sister and I trust you. I trust your ability. You can do this.” 

His encouragement is any if not motivating. You mirror his smile a bit shakily and Harry presses his forehead against your own. 

With an even breath, you nod slowly, closing your eyes. 

You just barely feel Clark’s hand on your shoulder right before all the sound in the room fades out. 

“I believe in you.”

[tharizdun-03]

Call of the Night Watchthrough

#1: "Night Flight"

I really like the aesthetics here. They're very dreamlike, the first time he stepped outside I even assumed he was probably lucid dreaming lol.

If only real life looked like this.

#2: "Do You Do LINE?"

This show is really working for me narratively as well. It's mainly exploring the thematics of feeling unfulfilled with life, suddenly realizing that you're lacking a passion, and in a moment of breakthrough, wanting to hold on to that feeling, and that resonates with me strongly. 

I really like how the night is used metaphorically with this, how even in this story (or at least they say), feeling unfulfilled is the reason people can't fall asleep, and Kou finds his passion, wanting to fall in love, in the night.

I thought at first that maybe we'd be exploring asexuality with Kou, but it doesn't seem like that anymore, but I really like their dynamic regardless. And I love that he feels like a genuine introvert and not the fake, over-the-top version I hate that anime so often uses.

Again, the aesthetics during the night is just really magical to me. I just mentioned it earlier but it really did remind me of lucid dreaming or going out of body. I constantly find the environment to have a kind of deep blue, gold aesthetic to it in a similar fashion. It works.

#3: "A Lot Came Out"

This show is making me think about if you did let a vampire suck your blood pretty regularly, eventually you'd have too little left. You'd have to regularly fill your body up with more blood at the hospital? That's a hassle. Also, their teacher saying stuff like, get your body used to a healthy sleep schedule now while you still can, cause when you're an adult that's no longer possible, is sadly indicative of Japan's work culture.

#4: "Isn't This a Tight Squeeze?"

I love how this show keeps digging into the messy emotions the characters have in really interesting ways. I never expected the series to be this well-written, but it's not as straightforward as it might seem, and each episode has me reflecting on the characters' actions plenty.

#5: "Well, That's a Problem"

The characters being 14 is a bit young. 16 something would fit better, I think. I'll just ignore it, and it's not a big deal, but, well, just sharing my musings.

Also, I've never been out during night, cause I'm scared of getting mugged, but can't say this anime isn't making me want to try.

#6: "Might as Well Have Fun"

That was my favourite episode so far, I would say. I still think Nazuna might have some nefarious intentions mixed in. Did she really just tell Kou to do the massage cause she was lazy? And some of her teasings has a bit of a cruel streak to it.

Them going to a night pool and Kou not liking it is two-folded, I'd say. On the one hand, it's just sensory overload for the kid, but on the other hand, it shatters the illusuon. The night pool is too adult-like for the adolescent dream he wants to indulge in.

It's still a messy show tho, intentionally so. It could really go anywhere, I'm not sure what thematic end message it'll end up leaning towards, but I'll be here for it and enjoying the ride. 

And Kou realizing Shirakwa was just like him was a pretty powerful moment. Character interactions are charming as usual. Yeah, just good all around.

#7: "Reproduce"

I'm wondering if there are mostly just female vampires. Might just happen to be women that are involved in the story, but maybe there are deeper implications behind it with the whole sex and romance themes going on.

Also, I think just last episode I mentioned that Nazuna might have ulterior motives mixed in, and this episode had her vampire friends probing that exact question. Going off her reaction, not so sure, but it's a question that needed to be addressed.

#8: "All of Us"

'm really loving this show, I'm having a hard time thinking of another series that explores introversion in such a resonating manner. That theme fails so often for me.

The introduction of Mahiru, a guy Kou looks up to is funny, cause I remember, in junior high, there was this, and not even in a gay way, but gorgeous, gorgeous guy in my class, who was naturally good at everything ofc and super charming. And I think I was drawn to that.

As a certified introvert, I relate to the experience that while one may not want to fit in, in that manner, you tend to look up to the people that do, either way, cause fitting in, still comes with its benefits.

I just feel like a lot of shows that explore introverts, just have them scoff at everyone unlike them, and usually aren't smart enough to explore why that is, or other sides to it, so I appreciate this show doing so.

#9: "No Fair"

The interesting thing right now is that for Kou to achieve his goal of reveling in his introversion, away from normal society, he has to do something he's not comfortable with, something expected out of the extroverted society, fall in love.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, I think the way this show explores introversion resonates with me stronger than anything else I've experienced. When it comes to this particular aspect, it's like it was written for me.

And again, this points back to what the very first episode set up. Which road will the story take? Will he have to conform to society's expectations by falling in love, or will he learn to accept his potential aero characteristics and live as such?

#10: "Enlarge the Peeping-Tom Photos"

A mostly comedy-oriented episode, but it still manages to tackle some complex emotions nonetheless with the whole everyone's ill theme. Another very good episode.

#11: "Do You Know What a Vampire Is?"

If this episode is anything to go by, I'm gonna like this series less when it focuses on the serious canon story parts, and it'll be more my thing when it's more vibes/slice of life. That said, still a good episode. Maybe the best directed one so far tbh.

#12: "My Mom's Out Tonight"

Hey, remember back during episode 1 when I speculated that maybe Kou was on the aeromantic spectrum somewhere? Well, we're picking up that inclination once again, hell yeah.

Maybe because you took the chair?‘

Anyway, that was a fantastic episode. I mentioned last week that I always get worried when SoL's (which let's face it, this show basically is) serious plot takes center stage, cause it often feels so divorced from what the story's been like before, but it's working here.

The reason it's working, (it took me this ep to realize) is because the serious aspects are just looking at the themes from different perspectives, necessary perspectives to deepen the thematics. This is great stuff, but it's centered around the same ideas it's always been about.

Ko embraces the night because it's out of the ordinary, but that does come with the negative aspects as well, and if he wants to embrace this, he has to embrace it all. And I think there were good questions brought up here, why does he want to become a vampire?

Every materialistic desire of yours stems from an internal lack. You want to lose weight because you're not happy with how your body looks, you want money because you want to feel stable, etc.

Maybe what Kou needs here isn't to become a vampire cause that'll give him what he wants, but to look into where that want stems from, and try to fix that instead. Eliminate whatever fear is the cause of it. Loving this show. (And Kou and Nazuna were adorable as usual too).

#13: "Call of the Night"

I really like how Call of the Night is never adamant about Ko going back to school. As if it was just as valid for him to be hanging out with Nazuna and becoming a vampire. That it's not wrong to live outside society's structures if that's what makes you happy.

It's very rare I feel for a show to make an almost kind of argument for that. Some people just won't ever be happy following the norms but will prefer the alternative, and that's okay.

[forfuckssakejim]

Was going through my drive and found a paper? I wrote for my creative writing class two years ago. on the topic of "who inspires you to write" and i just sat and re read it??? and wow.

I got an A+ on it, and i remember my professor being in awe of it (as also with everything else I had written) and just.

it really struck a cord.

And i know I get a lot of asks about how i started writing. why i write. and i feel like this really just, hits home on that fact.

i was trying something new with my writing style, so its a tad weird.

I’m 5 years old, and reading is a thing I enjoy. Instead of playing during recess, I sit and read instead.  The words are a calming lullaby to anxiety in my veins, and I read and read and read; books that are way too old for me. I dream and imagine and escape to far off places. Worlds filled with magic and royalty, of adventure and history. 

I’m 7 years old and I’m a witch. I write and play in my own land of make believe where my words are a spell I cast upon the world all around me. I laugh and read and study too, and pen my own stories filled with magic and adventure. I wrote a story once, in a grade I can’t remember. I’m sure it was first, and Mrs. O was my teacher. We had to write a story, be it anything we like. I chose to write about a leprechaun who couldn’t help but seek out trouble wherever he may go. There was a plot that I remember not, but of a journey to be made. I looked upon the tattered map and declared “From California out to Maine”. I don’t remember what I wrote, or what names I chose to use, but my writing was amazing, at least that's what Mrs. O said. It was placed upon the Hall of Art, displayed for all to see. Was it by the library or the entranceway? Perhaps somewhere in between. People stopped occasionally to read it while they waited. 

I’m 10 years old and we moved to another town. It’s a brand new house and streets without a sidewalk and a much too long driveway. We built a shed in the backyard, and behind it where I made my castle. Using stones and bricks, I made it all my own. I play in the backyard and I have a dog now. He’s my favorite thing to write about. I still read, and read, and read. My friends sometimes wonder what is wrong with me. But I enjoy a good ol’ book compared to anything, so I read and write and make my own escape from real life. Mythology is my favorite, and I read about the gods and how the Ancient Romans and Greeks interpreted life around them. 

I’m 14 and discover that there are other people like me. People who like to write about established works and make their own twists and turns and type it out and share it with the world. I didn’t start out good. My thoughts were messy and jumbled and never seemed to flow quite right. A raging river and rocks all around, and me in my little boat without a paddle. 

And so I write. I write and write and write. Until my fingers ache and my brain is fried. I’m 26 now, and still writing. Over a decade of my life filled with wonderful stories I’ve created and shared. 100’s of thousands of words spanning a decade and a half of my life that I’ve put out into the universe.

I’m often asked if anyone inspired me to write, I think of my mom first, of the poems she wrote in high school. She encouraged my writing but she never was really an inspiration. And I wonder does inspiration even have to come from a physically tangible person? Do conversations with gods count? Does reading and wondering about origins of mythology and how it feels reading them that the gods themselves are speaking with me? What about the stars? They tell stories in formations, in words and patterns that other people may find tedious to decipher. The challenges in my life that I face, when I step back and re-examine from a different point. Taking words and strings of letters and forming new structures to fit the same narrative? Inspiration is not people and I'm the smartass Diogenes that holds up a featherless chicken and declares it a man to the annoyed Plato who declared man was not but a featherless biped. Writing and storytelling is such an innate part of who we are as humans, since our early ancestors passed down oral stories before words were even written upon a medium. And how were they inspired if they were those who created it? There had to be a source, the world around them shaping and forming a story that begs to be told. They looked to the stars and the world around them for bedtime stories. To write and to want to create is what makes us who we are at the core of our species. 

[you-will-return]

Hi 🤗, Real Violent Bob, Spiritual Masturbation and Simba for the BC ask game?

Hey Lena! Great to see you :D

Real Violent Bob (What is your nickname?)

I have several ones actually, though most people just call me Anna. Nicknames ranked by accuracy and affinity I have for them:

1. Wednesday (ngl used to hate that one as a kid but it does capture most aspects of my personality quite well)

2. Ännekind (my name + child? A solid effort, love to see it.)

3. Rat (merely here bc it shocked my primary school teacher when my uncle used it)

4. Anakin and Darling (feeling equally neutral about these. I don’t feel like Darth Vader, neither do I feel like someone’s darling. They meant well though)

Spiritual Masturbation (What is your guilty pleasure?)

If you’d asked me a few months ago, I would’ve said EDM but I think I’ve slowly started to erase the guilty part with that one.

Other than that I love cookie cutter romance movies/ novels. Especially the trope “young woman running away from life and meeting stand-offish rich guy in different country/ region”. I have like three books with that exact plot and I enjoy them all to bits. Depth? In these books? Never! They’re like cheap chocolate: not all too complex but hit the spot. (This is not to say that they’re badly written... most of the time... they are just so predictable that it’s almost funny which is not a bad thing, you just have to own it and they do)

Simba (Stupidest thing that has ever happened to you?)

Oh... OH. I’m bad at remembering things but I’ll tell you smth that is still pretty fresh in my memory.

For context: the story happened this year before the BC show in Dresden. I was VERY sleep deprived and had already been to the two other shows in Berlin and Hamburg beforehand.

So, the group I was with (all very lovely people, we played UNO) had decided to go to the nearby gas station for drinks and whatnot. For reasons, I had not been there when they had decided to go, so I had to jog after them (since I didn’t want to scream for them to wait in front of like 30-40 strangers). So I jog down this hill (imagine a 1,76 tall girl, who hasn’t gone running in like 5 years, in a BC shirt, shorts, black fishnets plus a chain necklace happily bopping along), and suddenly I jog past this guy and think “Huh, he looks familiar”, he also looks at me like he’s expecting me to know him. I do not know him. In that moment I only seem to recall that he is vaguely related to the BC show and that I’ve definitely seen him on stage at the other show. My conclusion: he has to be one of the roadies bc I love watching the roadies set up the stage.

Anyway, I catch up with the group and tell them that I ran into one of the roadies... I think. We go to the gas station.

Small time skip: OCEANS just got done playing (10/10, great guys, fun to talk to). And Lost Society are setting up the stage. Suddenly I see a familiar face: it’s the guy from earlier. So he has something to do with LS, great. Mystery solved. Almost.

I have pretty much forgotten about all of this by the time they start playing until: “Wait, he’s not a roadie?” (said to no one in particular)

And that’s the story of how I accidentally jogged past Mirko, without even recognizing him after already having seen him live TWICE and seeing him off-stage in Berlin + almost talking to him there.

My phone broke that evening and not recognizing Mirko is still the stupidest thing that happened to me that day.

Thank you so much for your ask!! And sorry for not getting to it earlier :(

Hope you have a great day and a happy new year!!

[michpeach]

Movie magic

When I was 6 months old, my family moved from Zacatecas, Mexico to Southern California. I was too young to speak any language, but my parents and older sisters all only spoke Spanish.

Considering SoCal is so Latino/Hispanic heavy, it wasn’t a huge problem for them to get around, plus we had family here. But my mom recalls being in parent teacher conferences with my eldest sister’s teachers and her (semi) English-speaking and feeling useless. 

“Aquí estaban, hablando de mi hija frente a mí y no podía entender nada,” she said, which translates to, “Here they were, talking about my kid in front of me and I couldn’t understand a thing.”

She was determined to learn the damn language. Film/ TV was a big help. 

She watched Mr. Rogers with us, and rewatched 80s films (Top Gun was her favorite) she had seen in Mexico, but hadn’t cared enough to pay attention to their language then. She didn’t think she’d ever live in an English speaking country.

My dad did this, too. Of course, he worked most of the day so he missed out on Mr. Rogers and other kid shows, but we’d watch movies everyday. 

I guess I didn’t ever realize how many movies I’ve seen in my lifetime, until I started dating my boyfriend.

“I was busy playing outside,” he says. 

Well, I wasn’t. My mom was really protective (still is!) and we lived in an apartment complex in a not-so-great part of town. Sometimes, we’d go to the park or the library. But a lot of the times, we’d watch movies. 

Movies were enough.

To this day, I watch a ton of film/TV. It’s my favorite art form. Without it, I don’t know who I’d be.

So what are my favorite films, and why? 

 5) Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

Directed by Wes Anderson | Written by Wes Anderson and Noah Baumbach 

"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."

Pretty profound words, for a fox.

This film is one of my favorites for a few reasons. In a very Wes Anderson-esque way, the film is just gorgeous and symmetrical which I find mesmerizing. I've always been curious about claymation and seeing a film like this just peaked my interest.

Aside from this, the story is just flat out great. A fox looking for a rush at the cost of his family and community; how does he fix things? Mr. Fox is a really well developed and dimensional character, with relationships that may seem familiar to some watchers, such as the one he has with his wife and son.

4) Frances Ha (2012)

Directed by Noah Baumbach | Written by Noah Baumbach and Greta Gerwig

"I'm so embarrassed. I'm not a real person yet."

A love letter to women in their 20s that don't know what they're doing with their lives.

I feel there are more coming of age stories about people in their teens than there are about young adults in their 20s, which is criminal because who really matures enough to truly "come of age" at 15/16/17. I know technically you're an adult at 18, but your brain isn't even fully developed?

This film really reassures me, as a 22-year-old, that it's completely fine to not know what you're doing. It's fine to float through life for a while.

It's part of the journey of life, eventually you'll land somewhere.

3) The Trial of the Chicago 7 (2020)

Directed and written by Aaron Sorkin

"Since this trial began, 4,752 US troops have been killed in Vietnam. And the following are their names"

Is there one right way to revolutionize?

I've never really taken myself as a history buff, but this film makes things fun. It's a story we don't learn about in classrooms.

The story of eight individuals tried in court for starting a riot at the 1968 Democratic National Convention. But was it really them? And did everyone at the defendants table need to be there?

The film itself is a riot. It's quick, but also poses questions about ethics behind badges and benches, which are questions that remain unanswered even today.

2) Little Women (2019)

Directed by Greta Gerwig | Written by Greta Gerwig Sarah Polley

"Life is too short to be angry at one's sisters"

I feel like anyone who has read the novel by Louisa May Alcott can understand what a wonderful and joyous group of girls the March sisters are.

Now mix that with Greta Gerwig's creative hand and some of the most beautiful costumes in the world and you get the 2019 film rendition of this beloved tale.

Aside from the story, the actors were just phenomenal in their delivery. I wouldn't expect less from Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, Emma Watson, Timothée Chalamet (whom I'm in love with), Laura Dern, Bob Odenkirk, and the Meryl Streep. Wow! I hadnt even realized how many true stars were in this one. Amazing.

This is another coming of age film for women in their 20s. Sure, it's a different time entirely, but the message is the same. Women will, in their own time, know what's best for them.

1) Big Fish (2003)

Directed by Tim Burton | Written by John August

"I saw my death in that eye, and this isn't how it happens."

"So how does it happen?"

"Surprise ending. Wouldn't want to ruin it for you."

I have only seen my father cry in one movie, and this is it. Could it be the complex relationship between father and son shown on screen resonates with him? Or that is particularly a beautiful film? I've never asked him.

What makes me cry about this movie is that it's a build up to the ultimate ending. You see this man, slightly delusional, living his life through stories and you soon realize that perhaps its not an unfortunate way to live. It could be quite fulfilling.

I don't think I've ever seen another movie about wild imagination past adolescence, but it's a wonderful thing.

[munsons-maiden]

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐆𝐨

Hi lovelies! This is one of the requests I’ve written (only 19 others to go now😁) and I really got inspired so it’s long ♡ I hope you enjoy! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Loki x female reader

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 |  “Don’t let me go.” (by anon) 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 |  A fight with Loki unveils feelings which have always simmered beneath the surface, feelings neither of you has ever dared to voice. But maybe it’s too late now to finally confess (sorry for the vague summary, I wanted to avoid spoilers for the story). Takes place after the events of Thor: Ragnarok; Infinity War never happened, Thor and Loki have managed to rescue the Asgardian people and have now joined the Avengers (Loki more or less willingly...) 

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 |  an angsty fight ending in romantic smut, protective Loki  

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 |  8.8 k 

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 |  SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU’RE 18+ YEARS OLD!), unprotected sex (please be safe in real life and use a condom!), mentions of torture, angst with a happy ending  

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡ 

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝🖤 

The briefing had been going on for half an hour by now, in which nothing had happened but Steve droning on and on about minor security breaches and a new tech update which had somehow caused a havoc with one of Tony’s newer projects running rampage on the upper floors last week. The burn hole was still marring the wooden floor. Sam, Wanda and Vision were staying in Sokovia to help rebuild what was left of the country after the devastating battle against Ultron – you’d never really met them – while Bruce was insisting on working in the lab for a while, far away from any Avengers business, and Clint was staying with his family for now. Which left Steve, Bucky, Tony, Nat, the Asgardian brothers and you.

In the seat opposite of you, you could see how the boredom in Loki’s expression kept growing while he stared at the little green sparks dancing on the tips of his fingers as he obviously had a hard time staying awake during Steve’s sermon. With his attention fixed on the little sparks, you took the chance to watch him for a few seconds and admire the way the rays of the warm afternoon sun flooding in through the glass façade behind him fell on his smooth black hair, making it shimmer like the softest satin, and how his long, dark lashes brushed against the sharp line of his cheekbones whenever he blinked.

It had been one year since Thor had brought the surviving people of Asgard to Norway after their home had been destroyed during Ragnarok, and he and his brother, who’d helped in the fight against Hela, had joined the Avengers – only weeks after you and Bucky had managed to escape Hydra’s clutches with the help of Steve, Sam and Nat.

While Thor, Bucky and you had been accepted as new residents in the Avengers tower with open arms, Loki hadn’t been granted the same warm welcome. The memories of the battle of New York had been too fresh to simply forget his crimes, no matter what he’d done to help Thor. Now, a whole year later, most of the others were still wary of him, if not openly hostile, and it hurt you to witness.

To be honest, you’d been just as unsettled by his presence in the tower in the beginning, when you had reluctantly agreed upon Loki helping you train your own – then barely controlled – magic abilities. He’d been the only available teacher for the job, and you’d desperately wanted to learn how to wield these mysterious powers which had always seemed as hard to shape as water running through your fingers, to finally put them to good use. And in return, Loki had gotten a chance to prove that he wasn’t the vicious villain anymore who’d waged war on this very city with an army of aliens only a few years ago.

Then, you hadn’t expected for the tender bond of a friendship to form between you and the mischievous god. And you certainly hadn’t expected to fall in love with him. But you had, hard and thoroughly, and when he now caught your lingering gaze on him, the little smirk he flashed your way made your weak little heart flutter against your ribs like a trapped little sparrow begging to be set free.

None of the others had spent nearly as much time with the raven-haired trickster as you had, training with him every day, and you wished you could make them see what you saw when you looked at him now. Not a villain, but someone who’d been forced to carry his own pain all alone, who craved attention because he feared he wouldn’t be worthy of love, and attention was all he would be able to get. With each passing day of practicing your magic together, you’d spied glimpses of the person beneath all these cleverly forged illusions of arrogance and deceit, and with each of these glimpses, you had fallen a little deeper in love with Loki, these feelings growing like the vines in a jungle after a monsoon. You knew he wouldn’t reciprocate these feelings you were harbouring for him, and thus, you’d become an expert to bury them in your heart and veil them from him and the others. As long as he didn’t confirm what you already suspected and feared – that he would never feel the same for you as you did for him – you could dream. Daydreams, such as this one, his long, elegant fingers ghosting over your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. It hurt when reality came crashing in again, and you realized it wouldn’t be your lips he kissed, or your ears he’d whisper sweet nothings to. It hurt. Like a knife twisted in your chest, over and over again, and you helped twisting it willingly with your silly little hopes and daydreams. If friendship was all you would ever have, you were glad to take it, as long as it meant Loki would be in your life. Even if you would never be the one for him the same way as he was for you.

The glass door to the conference room was pushed open with enough fervour for you to tear you from your wandering thoughts and you quickly averted your gaze from the trickster as everyone’s heads, including Loki’s, snapped up to Maria Hill who was striding into the room with an expression of worry which she barely managed to contain beneath the guise of calmness on her face.

“Change of plans”, she announced without a word of greeting, and you sat up a little straighter upon hearing the tension in her voice. “There’s news about the remaining Hydra members we’ve been pursuing.”

Your heart plummeted to the floor as she reached out to swipe at the hologram’s screen at the end of the table and opened another file with the swift move of her hand, Steve stepping beside respectfully to let her take over the word. “We’ve found the Hydra agents and scientists which were able to escape when Steve, Sam and Nat brought down SHIELD, and it looks like they have an ace up their sleeve now. They’re led by this guy.” Another swipe, and the screen was filled with a picture of the face starring in some of your most recurring nightmares. It made your heart freeze over with a horror so sheer you thought your blood cells might have actually turned into little icicles as you stared back at the man in the photo. “He’s a biologist and overly fond of playing with genetics. As you all…know.”

A pause, and everyone’s gazes wandered first to Bucky, before finally coming to rest on you, faces slack with horror. You kept staring at the hologram, but in the corner of your eyes, you could feel Loki’s blue gaze pinned on you.

When you’d first realized there was magic simmering in your veins, you’d joined SHIELD to learn to control these raw, barely sculpted skills and put them to use. Fight evil. Little had you known that by joining SHIELD, you’d stumbled right into the very claws of evil itself, and they had snapped close around you. HYDRA took you, experimenting on you in their hopes of finding out how you could have been born with the abilities you possessed. They didn’t find any answers. Had Steve and his friends acted a few days later, you would have faced death. Or worse, the same fate as Bucky.

It had only been weeks, but it was enough to scar you for several lifetimes, haunting your dreams with memories you desperately wanted to forget.

The shift in the air – from bored and sleepy to alert and tense – was nearly palpable, and it was all you could do to steady your breath and fight back the panic attack blossoming in your gut like a beast stirring awake after a long hibernation.

“So, Hydra’s back”, Bucky finally broke the horrified silence, looking as gloomy and forlorn as you felt.

“Yes”, Hill nodded, “And they’ve found new allies along with new headquarters.” Another swipe of her hand, and the man’s photo was replaced by the map of what looked like a huge building complex.

“What’s that?”, Tony asked, “Another creepy castle? How original.”

Hill nodded again. “It is, indeed.”

“Where is this castle?”, Steve inquired with a grave tone and an even darker expression on his face which mirrored the mood in the conference room.

“They don’t exactly hide anymore”, Hill announced. “They sent a message. They’ve been hiding away in the Caribbean over the past year, and they’ve been diligent in regaining the upper hand. Their scientists managed to develop a virus, dangerous enough to eradicate over two thirds of the world population, and contagious enough to erase all chances of controlling it once it’s set free. It will spread faster than a wildfire. Our intelligence team could verify the information. It’s not a bluff.”

You could have heard the drop of a pin on the floor in the deadly silence which followed her words.

“And let me guess, Hydra is planning to use it as a leverage,” you finally said hollowly.

“They already did. They announced that patient zero will be contaminated in a span of twenty-four hours. They have a vaccine ready, enough doses for every country which is ready to pledge allegiance to them.”

“We need to stop them”, you whispered, and realized you’d been curling your hands on the table into fists so tight to keep them from shaking uncontrollably that your nails had left bloody little crescents in the skin of your palms. Beside you, Natasha’s hand gently settled on your arm in a helpless attempt to calm you. When your gaze briefly lifted to lock on Loki, you could see his eyes were full of concern as he watched you. It felt a little strange, to see him so…serious. Worried.

“That’s the plan,” Hill said softly, “A simple break-and-enter, easy in theory. You go in, arrest the remaining Hydra members and steal the virus so we can destroy it.”

“Very easy”, Nat deadpanned.

“When do we leave?”, Steve asked.

“Tomorrow. Our agents are preparing the jet and an evacuation of the whole region surrounding the castle.” We don’t want another Sokovia. You knew it was what she and everyone else in the room were thinking.

“Before I start going into the details of the plan – there are some other threats awaiting you which you should know about,” Hill went on, her fingers already flying over the projected screen to open up another file, and a row of blurred photographs, the lightning dark as if they’d been taken by night, filled the whole wall. The images in these photos were disturbing. Animals, but…not animals.

“What are these creatures?”, Thor murmured from beside you, just as shaken as everyone else.

“I heard of these things”, Nat chimed in, and it made you a little uneasy to see the concerned scowl etched on her features as she continued, “It was a file in Hydra’s database, but I thought it hadn’t worked and they’d abandoned the project for good. They took animals and then tried to fuse their DNA with that of the dead Chitauri SHIELD collected after the battle. The plan was to enhance certain abilities, erase others, and add new ones. Ultimate killing machines. Like Winter Soldiers, but with the claws of a lion or the strength of a bear.”

The tension in the air seemed to intensify with the notion of the battle, as it always did.

“Sounds amazing. Their own – how would Cap call them? – army of flying monkeys”, Tony quipped and pinched his nose.

Steve asked, “Do we know which mutations will be waiting for us?”

“Well, I’m sure there won’t be funny little talking racoons waiting for us there,” Tony shrugged with a glance at the images.

“There are no such things as talking raccoons”, Bucky huffed, and Tony threw him an exasperated look that seemed to say, Are you dumb? Nat snorted beside you.

“The question,” Tony continued with a glance at Loki, who’d been uncharacteristically muted and serious during the whole crisis meeting, “is why Reindeer Games here has been so suspiciously quiet. No uncalled-for jabs and witty little remarks to provoke us. Am I the only one who finds that strange?”

“What, exactly, would you have me do in the face of a crisis threatening to eradicate all of Midgard, Stark? Jump on the table and strip? You’re not important enough to put that much of an effort into a simple provocation, believe me”, Loki countered with a raised eyebrow, as if he couldn’t be deigned to pay any more attention to Tony than necessary, and you bit your lip to prevent the grin from spreading over your lips despite the threat of the crisis you were currently facing. The tight fist of panic which had squeezed your heart loosened a little.

“That is enough,” Thor growled with a warning glare at Loki, who only cocked his head in response.

“Ah, yes. My brother the great king. Has there ever been an argument you didn’t intrude on?”

“I still don’t like you”, Tony sneered at Loki, who replied, “I will get over it, somewhere in the span of the next few centuries.”

“You’re both insufferable,” you conceded, but you were glad for the brief diversion from the topic of Hydra and the upcoming mission. It had managed to tear you from the sticky spider’s web of panic which had caught you like a fly, and you briefly wondered if it had been Loki’s intention with his jab at Tony.

“The plan,” Steve interrupted the argument. All eyes were trained back on him and Maria Hill, who gave a curt nod before she said, “Thor and Loki will stay at the compound here in New York alongside Banner –“

“That’s absurd. I will do no such thing”, Loki protested , but Tony chimed in before Steve could.

“You will. You’ll stay here because we don’t trust you, and Thor will stay because somebody has to watch your traitorous ass, Reindeer Games. The last time you were left unattended in New York, you tried to conquer it.”

“How is it we always end up talking about Loki again?”, Steve sighed, which drew another wicked grin from Loki. “See? I didn’t even need to utter a single word and still I’m getting all the attention. Are you jealous, Stark?”

“Tony is right if uncalled-for, Loki. You’re a security risk”, Steve interrupted, ignoring Tony’s huff in protest.

Loki rolled his eyes, locked his arms in front of his chest and leaned back in his seat. “How glorious it must feel, to have every single one of your artificially enhanced muscle cells filled with such star-sprangled self-righteousness”, he drawled with a slow smile, and you could see how Steve ground his teeth, trying hard not to snap at Loki’s obvious attempt to vex him to get exactly such a reaction, before Hill went on to explain the plan, “Tony, Bucky, Sam and Steve are going to create a diversion and arrest every Hydra member they can find. Y/N, you and Nat will be the ones to get the vial with the deadly virus from its safe. There will be guards and some of these lovely mutations we’ve seen, so you’ll be the best choice because you’re the one to cast the illusions to hold these creatures at bay and probably help Nat break open the safe.”

“Are you up for the job?”, Steve added softly with a glance at you, and you could tell from his tone that he was slightly worried. But the sense of pride flooding you at finally being given this chance to accompany them on your first mission and prove yourself as an Avenger after a year of training and watching from the sidelines was overpowering every dreg of fear you probably would have felt at the risk this mission would put you in.

“This might be one of the most dangerous missions we’ve ever faced”, Nat added.

“I am”, you said with all the composure you could muster, just as Loki cut in, “She’s not.”

Your head snapped back to him, shock at his words written over your face as he met your gaze with his own cool one. Your mind flitted back to a moment only weeks ago.

The threads of magic – seidr, as it was called in the old Norse language –unravelled beneath your fingers once more just as you’d thought you’d finally managed to weave them into an illusion. An army of warriors in shining armour – no easy image to conjure, but an effective one to create a diversion. “Hold the strings”, Loki instructed in a calm, low voice as not to break your concentration with his sudden words, but it was too late, anyway. The threads you’d so carefully spun into the illusion came loose, once again slipping through your fingers as if they were water you’d tried to carry in your palms, and the image dissolved into sparks of green which floated in the air for a few more seconds before they, too, vanished.

With a shaky sigh, you let yourself fall to the ground in the training rooms. Tears you’d desperately tried to fight back, to blink away, had started to stream down your face in rivulets, and you pulled your knees closer to your body. It didn’t even have anything to do with the raging headaches you oftentimes suffered after practicing seidr, something Loki had told you he’d suffered for a few years as well when his mother Frigga had first started teaching him. No. These were tears of frustration and anger at the slowness of your progress, the feeling of your own incapability, of being unworthy in your new role as an Avenger.

You didn’t know how exactly you’d expected Loki to react when all your pent-up emotions finally broke the surface of your calm demeanour like a sea monster ready to strike – but it wasn’t this. Loki didn’t even sigh as he quietly sat down beside you on the ground, fingers dancing in the air as he conjured a green handkerchief out of thin air and gently used it to carefully dab at the blood which had started gushing from your nose, its metallic taste mingling with the salt of your tears on your lips. You hadn’t even realized that the bleeding had started. It did that, sometimes, when the exertion got too strong. Shame curdled in your stomach as you sat there, tears of frustration running down your cheeks as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“I think we should call it a day,” Loki finally spoke, and his voice was soft. Devoid of any judgement or annoyance, and full of understanding.

“I can’t. Not yet. Let me try one more time, okay?”

“Your ambition is something to be admired and cherished, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your health. It’s taking a toll on you. You should rest.”

Your hands reached up to grasp the kerchief from his hands, and the skin of your fingers tingled where they briefly brushed against his before he pulled away.

“One more try. Please.”

“Why?”, Loki asked gently, and when you finally turned your head to look at him, and you were met with a softness in his gaze you’d never witnessed him display before. As if he’d allowed for the mask he’d so carefully crafted and conjured, spun from the air like one of his illusions, to slip and reveal what all the witty quips and jabs were meant to hide away from the world. A vulnerability and brokenness which resonated with something deep in your own soul.

You’d already started falling for Loki some time ago – for his dazzling smiles, his witty quips, the easy banter with which the two of you communicated. His humour, his smooth, dark voice which made you wonder if he ever sang, and how it would be to hear this beautiful voice form a melody. The way he flipped his gorgeous black hair back during combat training, and the sparks in his mesmerizing ocean eyes, so vibrant and clever and full of mischief, always making your pulse spike and your knees weak whenever they lingered on yours.

And for the first time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. In front of yourself, and in front of another person. In front of Loki, of all people.

“When I came to the Avengers, it was with Bucky. They saved both of us from Hydra’s claws when Steve brought them down alongside SHIELD.”

Loki nodded. “I know. Thor told me. About Hydra.”

“HYDRA had me for a few weeks. Bucky had been in their clutches for a few decades. I feels so wrong to compare my pain to his.”

“Pain isn’t something to be compared”, Loki mused. “It just exists. It doesn’t need justification.”

You swallowed against a new wave of tears threatening to spill upon hearing his words, his own anguish laced in them. Thor had told you about Loki’s story, as well. You knew, right then, that Loki would understand. That he was ready to listen to your story, to the memories you’d never shared with anyone before, the ones which kept you company in the dead of night and drew screams of horror from your lips to finally rouse you from the nightmares they were conjuring for you. Memories which would never leave you, no matter how much time would pass. Just like a wound which healed to leave nothing but a scar, a memory of the pain which had been there. A tug from time to time to remind you that the scar was still there, as faded as it might be with time. It would always be there.

“I want them to be eradicated. All of them. And I fear as long as I’m locked up in this tower, still not ready to fight the rest of them who were able to escape when SHIELD was destroyed…they’ll grow stronger. With every day, and every new member they were able to recruit, and then people will suffer again at their hands. It’s happening right now – and I’m still not able to hold up a simple illusion for a few more seconds. No wonder the others still haven’t taken me on a mission with them.” Your voice had grown into nothing but a hoarse whisper at the last sentence, and you took a shaky breath to somewhat steady yourself.

“I want to do something”, you added with newfound fierceness, and your hand curled into a fist around the soft green cloth of the handkerchief. “I’m not as good a fighter as Nat and I’ll never be. I’m not a genius like Tony and Bruce, and I’m not as strong as Steve and Bucky and Thor. Magic is all I have, the skills Hydra gave me against my own will. I want to use these skills to fight, just like the others do. And instead, I’m the weak Avenger hiding away from fights because she still hasn’t mastered the skills she claims to possess. They’re my friends, and the only family I have left, and still I feel like I don’t belong with them. Not really.”

You’d never even dared to voice these thoughts aloud to yourself, and instead had kept them hidden away in the darkest recesses of your mind in an attempt not to let them get to you. But here, with Loki sitting beside you and such gentleness brimming in the ocean blue of his eyes, you realized how heavy they’d weighed on your heart and how desperately you’d wanted to tell somebody about them. Who would be better to understand such feelings than Loki? Still, you were surprised how easy it had been to voice such things in front of a man you not so long ago had hated with so much passion for what he’d done.

A few minutes of silence passed; an easy, peaceful silence of just sitting beside each other in the empty training rooms, finding solace in each other’s presence.

When Loki finally spoke again, his voice was low and soft, like honey, and his gaze so far away as his mind wandered to a memory of his own practice in the art of wielding seidr, a memory so cherished he’d never dared to share it with anyone because he’d always felt it would rob it of this special feeling if he did. Not with you, though, he suddenly realized. And so, Loki began to tell you, his words opening a door he’d kept locked for others, and in the end even for himself for such a long time while guilt and grief about his mother’s death had made him feel unworthy of such happy memories with her.

“I wasn’t a strong child, like Thor. I lost most of the training fights, and the others used to make fun of me for it. For my lack of strength and my lack of power, walking in Thor’s mighty shadow, even as children. He’d always been the one drawing all the attention, the one making others laugh and desiring to be his friends. I never belonged, even then. My mother saw it, I think. And one day, she took my hand and told me to close my eyes, to see the loose threads all around us – and I did. Seidr, she told me. Threads waiting to be woven into something so real and vivid that it would be able to trick even the most cunning of minds. I remember the exact moment when she opened her hand, and there was a little hummingbird fluttering above her palm. I remember everything: how the feathers looked so soft, how they shimmered in the light in such pretty hues of pink and blue, how fast its wings were beating in the air to keep it afloat. I knew it was an illusion, but it seemed so real. I wanted to learn how to do this, how to spin all these lose, meaningless, isolated threads into a picture so vivid and beautiful. I waited for her to tell me that I couldn’t, simply because that was all I only ever heard from Odin and Thor, but she promised to teach me. She said that I could do everything I wanted, as long as my mind was set on it and I was ready to show some patience. With myself, and my abilities. It wasn’t easy, but she was right. I could do it. I learned it. Illusions, not only the ones my magic could weave but the ones I could, with my demeanour, my words. So, what I’m trying to say…” he halted, overwhelmed with his own emotions at the memory of this day, the way Frigga’s words reverberated in his mind in her soft melodic voice. “What I’m trying to say”, he started anew, “Is that you will be able to do it, too. You only need patience. And if you don’t believe in yourself…I do.”

You took a few heartbeats to watch the ghost of a smile curling his lips, holding so much happiness and sadness and grief alike. “An impressive woman,” you finally said softly, “And an amazing mother.”

“She was. Not a single day passes in which I don’t miss her with all my heart.”

You wanted to reach out and take his hands, spend him comfort just as he had done for you, but you didn’t dare. The moment passed.

“You’ll be ready to go on your first mission soon. They will ask you to join them, and you’ll get your chance”, he stated. “But for now, grab some water and rest.”

It was the exact same moment you’d realized the trickster had stolen your heart for good. That your feelings for him had grown into actual love. And now, after all you’d told him, after this moment of vulnerability the two of you had shared only weeks prior, he took the chance to humiliate you in front of the others instead of supporting you.

“Pardon?”, you asked, daring him to repeat his words.

“You’re not ready yet”, Loki simply replied, voice calm – but the storm brewing in his ocean eyes betrayed his emotions.

“I have been training these skills for a whole year now. I’m more than ready.”

“That is not on you to determine”, Loki hissed, reciprocating the glare you were giving him, before he continued, directed at Steve, “She’ll be a danger for the success of the whole mission if you let her come with you. Her illusions aren’t sufficient enough yet to fool the human eye, as bad as it might be, and not stable enough to fool an animal, either. And her telekinetic powers are fickle, at best. Such power, when unchecked, is a security risk at best and a death trap at worst.”

His words, his betrayal, stung as much as if he’d just stabbed you right in the back. He knew. He knew how desperately you’d waited for this very chance to prove yourself, and he knew how hard you’d worked to improve your skills. Just as you knew that it was enough. You could do it. You were ready. And yet here he was, embarrassing you in front of the other Avengers as if you’d never poured out your heart in front of him and told him about all these fears, the feelings of not belonging. Shock and pain morphed into blinding, white-hot rage.

You could feel the blood boil in your veins as your gaze focused on Loki and you said, with as much listlessness and indifference as you could muster, “I think I’m perfectly capable of assessing the risk I’m putting myself and my teammates in. And I think they’re capable enough to assess on their own whose words they trust. Mine, or yours.”

There were a few beats of silence in the room, with every single Avenger staring at the two of you, watching with unease how you and the trickster kept glaring at each other, like an audience watching a tennis match. Beneath the anger simmering in Loki’s blue-green eyes as he kept holding your gaze without relenting, you could see something else briefly flare to life before it subsided, like the sparks of a firework bursting in the sky. Hurt. Your words had hurt him. Your use of the other’s obvious distrust – and your implication of agreeing with them on it. Something tugged at your chest, a pang of guilt, but for now, your fury had won over every other emotion.

“Okay, you heard her, Reindeer Games”, Tony chimed in in an obvious attempt to diffuse the sudden tension between you and the trickster, which had settled over the room with the same heaviness as the air right before a thunderstorm after a hot summer’s day.

“It’s settled, we’ll stick to the plan. See you all tomorrow morning. We’ll leave at sunrise, make sure to pee beforehand because it’s gonna be a few hours. Didn’t imagine my next trip to the Caribbean to whip some scientist’s asses -”

“Language!”, Steve interrupted.

“- but here we go.” Tony clapped his hands together and rose from his chair, and you left the room – stormed out, really – without another glance at Loki.

When you stepped out of the elevator and onto the level holding your own rooms, the blood was still roaring in your ears and your mind was going a mile a minute at the sheer audacity –

“Y/N, wait”, a smooth voice sounded from behind you, and you whirled around to come face to face with Loki, who looked a little awkward, standing in the middle of the empty hallway, the expression on his handsome features unreadable.

“What for?”, you scoffed. “You said everything you needed to say.”

He took a step closer, until there were only a few inches left between the two of you, as close as he’d never been before, and for a split second, he looked as if he wanted say something else, probably apologize – before his eyes narrowed and he replied, “And I can tell you’re angry because you know I’m right.”

That was the last straw. A new wave of rage flooded you at the self-righteousness and arrogance he carried himself with, and you drew yourself up to your full height as if he wouldn’t tower you still, anyway. “Don’t you dare explain my own feelings to me,” you hissed, stabbing your index finger at his chest, “You were the one who told me they will ask me to join them. You were the one who told me I’d be ready to join them! YOU were the one who told me he believed in me even if I didn’t!”

“Well, I changed my mind”, he shrugged, and his calm demeanour in contrast to your boiling fury made you see red once more.

“Yeah”, you nodded with a bitter smile, “That’s so easy for you. Loki, god of lies and deceit. Just floating with the tide, right?”

“If you have something to say, go on”, he dared you, and the threat in his voice, suddenly so much darker, made cold shivers skitter down your spine, “Spill the tea.”

“I told you about my fears. I trusted you! And you went and used them against me right in front of everyone! YOU KNEW HOW MUCH I WANTED TO BELONG TO THEM!”, you yelled, and your voice threatened to break under the weight of your emotions at the last words.

“Maybe you will never belong to them if you have to try so hard. Have you thought about that?” The words hit you like one of Clint’s well-placed arrows. The cool mask was back on Loki’s face as he watched you flinch with the shock of his words, knowing all too well that they’d hit home. As if you’d handed him a dagger, and he’d only waited for you to turn around and give him the chance to lodge the blade in your back.

With your strained voice barely strong enough to form a whisper as you fought back the tears of rage and hurt which threatened to spill, you added, “I should have known better than to confide in you. To think you would be able to change your nature. Because that’s what you do, over and over again to the people who trust you, right? Stabbing them in the back as soon as you get the chance. It must have been fun, to humiliate me in front of the people you knew I so desperately wanted to fit in with. A funny little pastime for the god of lies. I can’t believe I gave you the benefit of the doubt when I knew what you are all along. I can’t believe I fell for your tricks.”

Loki took a step back as if you’d slapped him. Good, you noticed with bitter satisfaction rushing through your veins like poison. You wanted Loki to feel the same pain his words had inflicted on you.

“Is that what you think?”, he asked quietly, and the hurt was now evident in his eyes, laid bare for you to read like a blinking neon sign, and the impassive mask was starting to slip from his handsome features.

“IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK?!”, he screamed when you didn’t reply, and this time it was your turn to jump back at his sudden outburst, and your hand quickly found its way to the hilt of the knife you kept strapped to your thigh.

Loki noticed, and a cruel sneer twisted his lips. “So, you’re afraid of me? Do you still see me as a monster?” There was something pleading in his gaze, but you were too far gone in your rage to stop – just as he was.

“No”, you replied, suddenly so impossibly tired, “Not a monster. Monsters aren’t locked up in towers like pets.”

You knew you’d gone too far. You knew it hadn’t been solely about his betrayal in front of the others, the way he’d used the things you’d confided to him in your moment of vulnerability, but the pain of knowing he was right – maybe you would never belong to them if you had to try that hard. It was the deep pain of your daydream, the hope he could one day reciprocate the feelings you were harbouring for him, shattering with his words. The reality of seeing him every day, of loving him so fiercely and so silently because he was a god, and you were nothing but a girl dabbling in sorcery. Not worthy. It was all coming together, coalescing into this tsunami of hurt and grief and heartbreak to sweep you away and drown out any rational thoughts from your mind, making you lash out blindly like a wounded animal.

You could feel the pain of hearing these words ripple through Loki, see him flinch with their meaning.

“Fine”, Loki spoke at last, and the tone in his low voice was cold enough to freeze over a lake. “Go on then tomorrow like the desperate little fool you are. Die. I couldn’t care less.”  

With that, he vanished in a shimmer of rippling green light, leaving you alone in the hallway in front of your bedroom.

Free to ultimately let the tears spill and the single sob tear from your throat you’d fought so hard to hold back, and the fight and fury which had flooded you only seconds ago left you like a tidal wave, leaving behind nothing but sorrow and hurt.

Die. I couldn’t care less.

You sunk to the cold floor, knees pulled to your chest and head in your hands, sobs tearing through you as your heart broke.

“Don’t let me go. Not like this,” you whispered. “Please don’t let me go like this.”

***

Night had fallen, and eventually, your tears had stopped flowing, leaving your eyes red and stains of dried tears on your cheeks when you’d changed into your pyjamas and crawled into bed, feeling more miserable and lonelier that you ever had in your life. Had Loki really meant these words? Could you have been so blind in your feelings for him that you’d fallen for another of his illusions, one of kindness and empathy? Had you fallen for somebody who’d never really existed in reality?

Maybe you would die tomorrow. It was possible. Had Loki been right, and your skills weren’t ready enough for a mission of such impact?

If you died tomorrow, or, worse, fell back into the hands of Hydra, the last words you’d ever said to the love of your life would have been calling him a pet-monster unworthy to be trusted. In your pain of his own perceived betrayal, you’d lashed out and used his own obvious fears against him. You weren’t an ounce better than he was.

You needed to talk to him, you realized. You needed to apologize and tell him you hadn’t meant a single word of these vile things you’d thrown at him in your rage. You needed to tell him that you were sorry. Without a second thought, you jumped out of bed, not caring for the late hour. You needed to talk to Loki. With determination fuelling your steps, you pulled open your door – only to find Loki staring back at you in front of the doorway, hand raised as if he’d prepared himself to know on your door just as you’d ripped it open.

For a few heartbeats, neither of you uttered a word into the stunned silence which followed, before Loki finally breathed, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I can’t let you go like this. I can’t lose you.”

He crossed the last few steps separating the two of you, and there was no time for you to muster a reply before his lips crashed on yours and his hands found their way into your hair to pull you closer, the weight of his body pinning you against the nearest wall while your hand moved to slam the door close without ever breaking the kiss.

It was all you’d ever imagined it would be like kissing him, and so much more. His kisses, hot and heavy on your lips, were demanding, fuelled by a hunger which resonated with an ache deep within your own heart. His breath was hot against you as his lips parted to let out a soft groan, and his fingers raked through the strands of your hair while your own palms settled on the thin green fabric of his nightshirt, feeling the heat radiating from his firm body as he pressed closer, and your back hit the wall again with a soft thud.

You sighed with the sensation of Loki’s lips travelling along the line of your jaw and down the column of your throat while the grip of his long, elegant fingers in your hair tightened slightly to guide your head to the side and grant him further access to the sensitive skin on your neck, and the gentleness of his touches, despite the need the feverish kisses incited in both of you, made your heart leap with affection, and with love.

A moan tumbled from your lips when Loki’s teeth grazed the spot below your ear, and the last of your restraint dissolved like the smoke of an extinguished candle with the new fire his touches instilled in your lower belly, the pleasure which rippled through your body like waves in a pond when his tongue flicked out to graze the skin above your thundering pulse. You could already feel your arousal soaking the silky fabric of your panties when his hips pressed against yours. Your hands snaked down his chest and under the hem of his shirt, and when your palms made contact with his bare skin you could feel him quiver with the sensation of your touch.

His lips found their way back to yours, and one of his hands untangled from your hair to travel down the curve of your spine and settle on your lower back to pull you flush against him, and your body melted into his with another soft, blissful moan falling from your parted lips at the sensation. Your hands kept exploring his chest, every firm muscle, every slope, relishing the feeling of Loki’s fierce, messy kisses, the way he moved against you with the force of a thunderstorm, and still his touches, as urgent and possessive as his lips moving against yours, held a tenderness that made your heart sing with a happiness you’d never felt before.

Your legs hooked around his waist to pull him closer, and through the thin fabric of your panties, you could feel his erection pressing against your core, and both of you moaned at the contact.

A flash of green – and Loki had teleported the two of you across last steps to your bed in the blink of a second, never once breaking the string of passionate kisses you were sharing when he placed you down on the mattress, before he settled over you, his knees gently parting your legs and your heart rate spiked at the thought of what came next, what would happen if the two of you continued.

A whimper escaped your throat at the sensation of Loki’s hands roaming down your sides, nails grazing the skin on the curve of your waist before his fingers found the hem of your panties, and he began to toy with the delicate lace while he pulled away from the kiss, panting and flustered. The breath hitched in your throat at the sight of Loki hovering above you, his silky black curls messy where your hands had raked through the soft strands, and his pupils were dilated with desire – for you. And mixing with the lust darkening the blue of his eyes like storm clouds over the roaring sea, you could see softness swirling in the depths of his eyes, and something else, something you’d so often dreamed of seeing directed at you.

“Is this what you want?”, Loki whispered, and the roughness in his voice, strained with his own arousal and emotions, made your heart clench with the love you felt for him. Words had left you, and you nodded, breathlessly, hands tugging at his shirt in a silent plea to finally get rid of it, and Loki obeyed with a mischievous dark smirk, before another flash of green light illuminated the half-dark of your bedroom and the shirt was gone, along with the rest of his clothes, leaving you to marvel the firm muscles in his lean, strong body, the way they flexed and rippled when Loki lowered himself over you, one elbow resting on the pillow beside your head while his fingertips stopped toying with the lace of your panties and instead ripped them away in a flourish, and the fabric tore beneath his strong grip like paper with a ripping sound.

A shiver of anticipation rushed through your body, and Loki closed the space between the two of you once more, sealing your lips with his to resume the feverish kisses, and there was an ache in your chest for him, a hunger in your heart you knew could never really be sated. You needed him, you wanted to feel every inch of him against you, inside you, and your hands shot up to grab him. Inky black hair wrapped around your fingers, and you pulled him down to you with an eagerness which summoned a low, dark rumble of laughter from Loki’s lips, reverberating against your kiss. A sharp gasp of pleasure was torn from you when he buried himself inside you, your velvet walls wrapping around him as he pushed deeper, and the breath caught in your throat at the sensation. You could feel how he was restraining himself, afraid to hurt you, and the sinful sound he uttered at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, engulfing him in your wet heat, drove you mad with want. Your legs wrapped around his waist to change the angle and pull him deeper still. When you raised your hips in a silent command, it was all the reassurance he needed to begin to move with slow, measured thrusts which quickly grew faster, more erratic, and a string of moans escaped you with the ripples of scorching pleasure Loki’s movements sent cascading through your body every time he hit that sweet spot deep inside you with every thrust.

The sensation of your bodies melting together, becoming one, the pleasure he was bestowing on you which kept blazing through your nerves like bolts of electricity, shattered you in the best possible way and made you pant and writhe beneath him. When he pulled away from the kiss to watch you, the softness he held for you in his lust-darkened eyes would have been enough to incite little fireworks of happiness in your heart. All the vile things you’d thrown at each other hours ago in the hallway didn’t matter anymore. The world blurred, and your senses heightened to his every touch, the feeling of his bare skin beneath your fingertips and his erratic breath mingling with yours in the small space between the two of you, and his delicate scent, a mix of pine soap and himself. Nothing else mattered but this moment, with Loki.

“I’m yours”, you whispered hoarsely, and your voice broke into another cry as his hand glid down between your bodies and the pad of his thumb brushed over the bundle of nerves between your thighs, sending another cascade of pleasure skittering through you, building the tightness in your lower abdomen with every thrust and every stroke of his fingers over your clit until your climax ripped through you with the force of a lightning bolt, and you could feel Loki’s own high pulling him under alongside you. With a groan, he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, his black strands of hair pleasantly tickling your cheeks while his pace slowed, and he rode out the last wave of your climaxes, before he collapsed into the sheets beside you.

For a few heartbeats, while you waited for your heartbeats to slow and the sweat on your bodies to cool, the only sounds breaking the silence which had settled over the room were your laboured pants mingling in the air and the sharp wail of a siren somewhere in the city streets below, before Loki pushed himself up to hover over you once more. Your breath caught at the sight. He looked so beautiful, with the soft orange glow of the never sleeping city below and the silver light of the half-moon spilling through your window from above, painting golden and blue patterns on the side of his still slightly flushed face and on his halo of midnight-black hair, tousled and unkempt from the things you’d just done together. There was a sparkle in his captivating eyes as he gazed down at you with marvel, as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened – before the smile vanished, and sincerity took its place.

“I didn’t mean any of these things I said to you earlier, Y/N. I didn’t mean them,” he finally spoke, and it sounded hoarse with emotions.

You kept staring at him, dumbfounded and at an utter loss of words, so he added, “And I don’t want you to die.”

“Thank you”, you mumbled with a small smile in an attempt to say something, only to mentally slap yourself as soon as the words were out.

“Look, I’ve never done this”, Loki went on, “So…this is new for me. The reason I told them you weren’t ready wasn’t to hurt you. I wanted to protect you. You’re more than ready to join them, but then you’ll be in danger, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you being in danger, not even for a second. The thought that these people and their monsters will try to kill you after having hurt you so much already. I’m scared. Terribly so. To lose you. Okay? I can’t lose you because…I love you. I’m in love with you, deeply, and I have been for a while now.”

There were tears shining in his eyes, and tears welling up in your own upon hearing his words, the confession you’d so often dreamed to hear from his lips, the most beautiful words forged by his silver tongue. You were overwhelmed with everything it made you feel, the sheer happiness which flooded you like warm rays of sunlight, strangling every word you could have uttered in reply with happy tears. Loki seemed to panic at your loss of words.

“Please tell me that’s not how you see me. What you said, about…”

“Loki, I love you”, you finally whispered with a half sob, and his eyes briefly fluttered close as he exhaled with relief. “And I’m so sorry for the things I said. I wish I could take them back. I didn’t mean any of it.”

With the sweetest of smiles playing on Loki’s lips, he gently rested his forehead against yours, before he placed a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose, and finally to your lips.

“Please don’t go tomorrow”, he whispered, and the despair was back in his pleading tone. “I can’t lose you, my love.” He knew he couldn’t talk you out of it, and you could feel that he didn’t want to pressure you. It was your decision, and Loki respected it as such – he was only pleading with you to reconsider. But your mind was made up already.

You began to trace the side of his face with your index finger, and he immediately leaned into your touch. “I need to. I can’t just stay here and do nothing. These men hurt me, and they’ll hurt so many more people if we don’t stop them. All these hours of training together, the things you’ve taught me – you helped me achieve these skills. It’s time to put them to use.”

He swallowed, obviously fighting to keep his panic at bay, but he nodded. “Then let me come with you.”

You blinked up at him with surprise. “I don’t think the others will let you.”

“I don’t care”, Loki breathed, placing another feather-light kiss to your lips. “You go, I go.”

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 ♡

♡ 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫  𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠  (𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞  𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭)

♡ 𝐊𝐨-𝐅𝐢  

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝)🖤:  @boneheadduluc @spiderhostia @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @zemosimp05 @justfangirlthingies @cazzyimagines @rumblelibrary @victias @justanothertruebeliver @chiptaylormybeloved @vverliebt @madhatter2727 @a-simp-recommends-fics  

[folkloreguk]

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

~

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

~

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

[forestlingincorporated]

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People. 

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them. 

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent. 

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.) 

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction. 

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children. 

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically. 

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation. 

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear. 

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect. 

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?) 

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but... 

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7. 

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.) 

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics. 

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two. 

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about. 

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural. 

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries. 

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance. 

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other. 

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent. 

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart. 

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist. 

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well. 

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child. 

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive. 

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you. 

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt. 

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh... 

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating? 

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting. 

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t. 

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so. 

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet. 

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom. 

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought. 

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[godlygreta]

i never stopped loving you | j. kiszka

title | i never stopped loving you

summary | jake and y/n have known each other since grade school, they’ve been neighbors forever. a bit of romance ensues, but ends fairly quickly when complications arise while the boys are touring. a trip home from college ends in a slightly drunk confession.

warnings | some mature themes (bit of sex, but not explicitly), swearing, slight angst

word count | 2.5k+

author’s note | hi! this is the first thing i’ve written for any of the boys, so i hope you enjoy. i’ve written for other bands before, so writing isn’t new to me, but writing for greta is.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

High school was rough for Y/N with hormones mixed in with academics, horny teenage boys at every turn. Y/N wasn’t even interested in dating, not due to the fact that nobody was necessarily interested in her, but because she was too focused on her studies to even give a damn. School dances were a nice break from academics. There was a shift, though, when one boy in particular would start to really pay attention to her.

Jake Kiszka was charismatic in every sense of the word. Him and his twin brother, Josh, were always the two sweetest, yet most famous troublemakers in all of Frankenmuth High School. It got even worse when their younger brother, Sam, ended up in high school with them as a freshman. Jake had girls wrapped around his finger from the moment he had gotten a haircut. His hair was a lot shorter than before and barely even touched his forehead. Y/N didn’t really give a damn. To her, he was still Jake Kiszka, neighbor.

Their parents were friends and always hungout on the weekends. Y/N’s family had a cabin on the lake which they always vacationed at and occasionally would bring Jake’s family with. One particular summer, they stayed there for a week between the summer of sophomore and junior year. The summer’s were always hot, but this week in particular was hotter than the other summer’s before. “It feels like the Devil’s asshole out here.”

“I know, Mary, but that’s the exact reason we chose to come here this week. The kids can swim in the lake, it’s a lot cooler in the water than on the grass.” Y/N’s dad spoke, returning the conversation from her mother. He gave her a quick kiss on the side of the head and returned to unpacking the car. Y/N and the boys had already gone into the house and picked their rooms. The boys shared one, and Y/N got one of the spare bedrooms. 

Dinner was made as soon as everyone was settled in. Everyone sat around the dining table, laughing and eating as they did almost every weekend. “You excited for Junior year, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m sort of nervous about taking the SAT and ACT. I’ve been studying when I’m not working at the shop.” She picked at some asparagus on her plate as she answered Mrs. Kiszka’s  question. Jake and Josh weren’t entirely ecstatic about it, it didn’t really matter to either of them. Music was their passion and that was never going to change.

Smores after dinner was a tradition that started when they were all really little, barely old enough to eat them. The fire was lit by Mr. Kiszka and Mr. Y/L/N. Jake, Sam and Josh had always played music while the rest of them made their smores. Y/N always made extras for the boys for when they were done playing music. Whenever they had no idea what to play, Y/N always knew the answer. Running out of songs to play, though, was a rarity in itself. The Kiszka’s knew so much about their sound, nothing was in their way of playing songs that fit it. However, every once in a blue moon they would ask their friend what she would like to hear. “C’mon now. You should know I’m a sucker for The Beatles.”

Y/N could recognize the sound of Blackbird the second it started playing. She had only listened to it eight million times that summer. She hummed lightly along as they played. Everyone clapped as soon as their song was over, the boys immediately delving into their smores. Y/N had finally taken a seat next to Josh when she was finished making their smores for them. Once their parents had gone inside, though, Y/N and the twins dipped into their parents' cooler of beer.

Neither of the sets of parents cared, they knew their kids would be safe and unharmed if they drank at the cabin. Jokes were told and stories of the past school year were discussed, as well as the future. A topic so vast for high schoolers. “I still can’t decide between a lawyer and an art teacher.”

“You’ve always been great at arguing,” Josh joked, “Practically got fuckin’ Lindsey McNeil out of that suspension.”

“It wasn’t fair. All she did was stand up for herself and what she believed in, plus that teacher is fucking creepy and everyone knows it.” Everybody laughed, the beer in everyone’s hands was getting a little warmer with every minute that passed by. Everyone filtered out one by one. Sam went in first, followed by Ronnie (she was slightly upset about coming, having made other plans with friends for the hot weather), and then Josh followed, leaving behind Jake and Y/N.

“Did you want to go inside yet or stay out here for a bit longer?” The silence beforehand hadn’t been awkward for the pair. “Cause I was thinking of going swimming for a bit.”

“I’ll join you, we haven’t swam yet today.”

The sand leading into the lake was met with a bit of rocks. It was picturesque under the moonlight. The pair discarded their clothing, leaving their underwear and got into the water. The coolness of the water sent goosebumps along her skin, leaving no piece without some. Jake followed in behind her, coming up next to her before completely dipping under the water. He popped back up and shook his head.

“You know,” Y/N started, “I think you’d look really good with longer hair.”

“You think?”

“Yeah. You should grow it out.” She swiped his hair out of the way and giggled a bit. “You’ll still never be prettier than I am.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

The rest of the summer followed with light flirting and spending lots of time together. Junior year came around and nothing changed a bit. Prom was spent with the Kiszka family, Josh driving the three of you, as well as Josh’s date. The dance was lame, the songs were overplayed pop music, which Y/N secretly had a bit of a soft spot for. She would never tell that to Jake, though.

The pair ended up back at Y/N’s house, giggling all the way up to her room. He went into the bathroom to take his suit off, using one of Y/N’s hangers to make sure it wouldn’t wrinkle. However, Y/N was still having issues. She couldn’t manage to undo the zipper by herself, waiting for Jake to come back into the room to do it for her. He came back in, saw her still in her dress. “Need my help?”

“My zipper -- I can’t reach it.”

“I can do it,” he whispered, knowing Y/N’s parents were asleep. His hands were warm against her back, undoing her zipper slowly. The moonlight coming in from the window felt like that hot summer night at the cabin. He slid the straps down her shoulders, his mouth slightly agape. How could someone look so beautiful and delicate at the same time?

She turned around, her body facing Jake’s. He stuttered, telling her he could leave and he was honestly about to. Until he felt her hand grab his wrist. “Don’t go.”

He nodded his head, helping her get the rest of the way out of her dress. She stepped closer to him and put her hands on his chest. She could feel how fast his heart was beating. She had a hard time meeting his gaze, nervous of him not feeling the same way she had been. “You looked really good tonight.”

“Me? Everybody was staring at you the whole time, Y/N,” he spoke, one hand finding their way to her waist, the other pulling on her chin to force eye contact. “You looked absolutely breathtaking.”

There was a split second where both of them second guessed themselves. But it was over when Y/N pressed her lips lightly against Jake’s. It was such a feathery light touch, it almost felt like she wasn’t even kissing him. She pulled away slowly, her eyes closed, not really knowing what to do next. She didn’t have to figure it out though, Jake’s lips returned to hers with more pressure.

His hands had found their rightful place on her back, bringing her closer to him. Hers found their way into his hair. It felt so natural - the need for each other grew stronger with each passing minute. His mouth never wanted to leave hers, it felt as though her lips were coated in fucking drugs the way they were so addicting. He couldn’t get enough. “Do you want to..?”

“Yes, please.” It came out so needy - desperate. Y/N didn’t even care about how that presented itself to Jake. She just wanted to be even closer to him than she already was. And she got to be right where she wanted to be.

Her bed was more comfy than Jake had previously remembered. Or maybe that was because they were here under different circumstances, not just studying algebra because Jake wasn’t quite getting it. All he knew was that he wasn’t ever going to forget it. He wanted this moment to replay forever and ever. Not because he was just some horny teenager, but because holy fuck, this had just been some random thought - a daydream, almost. But this was real. This was happening.

A tangled mess they were when climaxing. “I love you,” came out as barely above a whisper. It took Y/N a half of a second to register what he was really saying before it finally hit her. She didn’t feel as if she had to say it back, if anything, he should realize that she loved him too.

“I could honestly stay here forever and stare at you until the end of time.”

“So do it. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

They didn’t though. And it wasn’t that simple. Complications arose after that night. Everything got messy and trying to tie in a relationship while the band was traveling and on the road became increasingly difficult, especially when Y/N went to college.

She came home to Frankenmuth while she was off for the summer. Her mother and father missed her a great deal and the first weekend home was spent in the Kiszka’s backyard, the boys excluded. It was weird to be at their house and not see them littered around anywhere. Ronnie was full of stories though, telling Y/N about previous times the boys have come home from touring and the memories they brought back with him.

It was painful to hear, but she was so incredibly proud of everything they had accomplished and done. Every once in a while, Y/N had checked up on their band's Instagram account. When she was really nervous — having a hard time not worrying about them — she texted Josh or Danny. Neither of them were ever going to say anything to Jake or mention it to Sam.

The two families decided to get together and have dinner at a local bar. The boys were still away, they weren’t scheduled to come back to Michigan for at least another month and a half. Ronnie and Y/N spent most of their time talking about future plans for the upcoming weeks while their parents discuss their weekend plans — what to have for dinner and who’s house to have dinner at. Time had passed quickly and before they knew it, it was 10pm.

The parents had left, leaving Ronnie and Y/N at the bar by themselves. At least, that was until the boys walked in.

Ronnie smiled widely, hugging her brothers but then proceeding to punch them for surprising her and not just telling her. Josh and Danny hugged Y/N first, Sam leading after. Jake didn’t hug Y/N. It stung a bit. It made sense though. The last time they talked — it ended in an argument which was the resulting cause of their breakup.

A few drinks were downed, a couple shots thrown in there as well. Y/N figured it was time to throw the towel in. She couldn’t handle the awkward glances and forced conversation on their part. She grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair and put it on as she said goodbye to everyone. “Boys, lovely to see you again. I’m sure I’ll see you this weekend.”

She wasn’t going to. She was gonna avoid them at all costs. Come up with a lie — say she had the flu or something. Her mother would believe her either way, as well as understand where she was coming from with her avoidance. Her mother was there for her while she cried her eyes out.

She didn’t notice when Jake had followed her out. She didn’t notice him calling her name. The only thing she could notice was the tears falling down her cheeks, wiping them as soon as she felt them.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It slipped out. It didn’t mean to come out. Jake didn’t necessarily want it to come out. They say drunk words are sober thoughts, right? At the same time, who trusts the words of a drunk person? Usually it’s just brushed off as babbling, but Y/N couldn’t ignore what Jake said. Especially because she couldn’t blame it on not hearing him. There was no music playing outside the bar. The music was faint enough that anything Jake had said was heard.

“When we broke up,” he started. “I was a wreck. I was immature. It could’ve worked out - it would’ve worked out if I wasn’t such a child about everything.”

“Jake —“

“No, Y/N, I need to say this now. I’m a little drunk so I actually have the balls to say everything I want to. It was stupid to break up over something as menial as distance. The things I feel for you are so intense it scares the fuck out of me. I was so afraid of being gone all the time. You deserved someone who could be there to help you study for midterms. I was always in another state and sometimes another country. I wasn’t… there to be able to help you through anything. Everything’s different now, though.”

She sighed, not entirely sure on what to do with the information that was thrown at her. She was sober enough to remember the conversation tomorrow, but not nearly drunk enough to be able to deal with it tonight. “Do you wanna just come home with me? Talk about this tomorrow morning when we’re both sober.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you���ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[thefanficmonster]

Unlucky

Part 2: ‘Lucky Me’

Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Corpse decides to email back a person who has sent him quite a few creepy stories. She never seems to run out of scary encounters of both sorts: paranormal and stranger-danger. He gets suspicious that the stories are all made up so she can grab his attention, but he’s in for a surprise.

U/N - username

Requested: No

Corpse’s POV

I’m looking through my most recent emails from fans. They are all of scary encounters they’ve allegedly experienced. By now, I’ve read so many, it’s easy to decipher which are real and which are just made up nonsense. Some, I must admit, give me chills. Big props to the people who write those, especially if they are made up. If you can make someone’s skin crawl with your twisted, frightening imagination, you have one, for lack of a better term and in the most positive way, fucked up mind.

My cursor lands on the familiar username I see almost every other week. U/N. They have been sending stories consistently for about three years now. They, and I’m saying they cause you can never be sure who’s hiding behind the username, are either the most unlucky person to walk the planet or the one with most twisted imagination and story telling skills. I’ll admit, sometimes I narrate a story just because it’s well written. Believability is not the only thing I go by, I also reward creativity. And this person, U/N, has had their spot in many of my videos in the last three years. I’m honestly hoping they are made up, or at least some of them, because not only are there too many of them, but none of them fail to give me that eerie paranoia after I read them or the chills while I read them.

Once again, they have submitted a downright terrifying story. It would be a shame if I didn’t narrate it.

It would be a shame if I....

If I never actually meet them.

This many run-ins with people with malicious intent, always getting away by some miracle, what if they one day don’t make it out alive to tell it.

My heart sinks a little at the thought. I feel like I know this person, like we’ve known each other for three years now. They know the things the whole internet knows about me, and I, along with my regular watchers, know their stories. That’s by no means enough, now that I think about it.

My next action is really out of character for me. I decide to reach out to them. My fingers fly over the buttons on my keyboard too fast for my rational side to try and stop them. Deep down, I know I’m doing the rightest wrong thing I’ve ever done. My previously sunk heart is now in its assigned spot again, beating quickly.

You don’t know what you’re doing

I maybe don’t, but knowing isn’t what’s important right now. I just wanna do it.

~ Hey, this is probably, what, your twentieth story so far. I’m just curious, how many of these are made up? By the way, your stories are amazing and I’ll probably keep narrating them even if they aren’t real. They’re just that good.

I send the email before I can talk myself out of it. I get up from my chair immediately afterwards, putting as much distance between me and the computer as possible, silently promising myself I won’t be checking my mail every five minutes.

Y/N’s POV

I anxiously refresh and refresh my email inbox, waiting for the dreaded email back from my professor. Being halfway through the college experience, I know how tough this professor’s class is and how much I suck at it. I sent him my completed assignment last night, barely making the deadline mind you, so now I’m sweating hardcore, staring my computer screen down.

After refreshing for the millionth time, I’m met with a new email which makes my heart stop for a second or two, my stomach dropping. Then I take the time to read the sender’s name, the subject and the first sentence of the email, and all the previous changes in me reverse. My heartbeat picks up speed, going faster than a galloping horse and my stomach turns, making me feel the sensation everyone calls ‘butterflies’.

Nah, man. This shit ain’t real. It can’t be.

But then again, what if it is. What if I’m about to full-on ignore my favorite youtuber because of my paranoia. Well, it’s not exactly unsupported. My life has been a shit show of unfortunate event and situations I’ve literally had to claw my way out of in order to stay alive. Now, when something of the sort happens, it’s just another weekday. However, I still wanna share these encounters. Not only because they are proof of the dangers girls have to deal with on a daily basis, but they also get narrated by one of my favorite people ever. What more can a girl ask for?

~ Listen, I’m really not looking forward to getting catfished. Please leave me alone

It’s short, not sweet, and to the point. It’s easy to understand, and it clearly states that I’m not falling for it if it’s a scam, but if it’s real....someone call 911 cause I think I’ll faint.

~ I get it, you have trust issues. But that’s understandable. From the creepy guy messaging you on all your social media. To the stalker you had from you high school, or even that teacher that turned out to not be a teacher at all and just a pedo, I see where the lack of trust is coming from. But I assure you, they only thing I wanna do is chat.

The shock and happiness overwhelm me when the reply arrives not even ten minutes later. 

Holy shit, this is him.

I start typing and then erase the typed half-sentence at least three times before receiving another email from him. From Corpse Husband. Corpse freaking Husband. How the fuck am I supposed to compose myself enough to reply to him, let alone sound cool and leave a good impression.

My hand shakes as I click the newly received email.

~ You probably don’t know what to say. Either that or you just don’t wanna talk to me. If you’re just baffled and surprised, reply with your name. If you want me to fuck off, ignore this email completely.

The smile I didn’t realize was there grows into a grin as small bursts of laughter escape me. Laughter caused by disbelief and shock. The type of laugh you let out when you score a good mark on the test you thought you completely fucked up.

~ Y/N. My name’s Y/N. 

PS: The stories are all 100% real. All happened. In the order I sent them too. And before you ask, I guess I’m just unlucky, but you are proving me wrong right now.

I don’t know where that confidence at the end came from, but I don’t care really. All that matters is that this might just actually be happening and it might be the best thing to ever happen to me.

~ Man, you’ve had it rough. Tell me, is there an easier way to access you than email. Like Insta DMs? I feel we have a lot to talk about and email is not the most convenient.

At this point, it feel so much like a fever dream that I decide to treat it as though it is. I just go with the flow.

~ Yeah, but first.....am I really not being catfished right now?

The email I receive as a reply to this message is empty of text but there’s a file attached. Not gonna lie, I am a bit hesitant to open it, but I decide that if this turns bad, I’ll just have to deal with it. In the meantime, I’ll believe it’s not a scam.

It’s an audio file: “No, Y/N, you are not being catfished.”

That voice. That god damn voice. It could convince me of anything. 

And now it’s convinced me into believing him. And finally letting out that squeal I was holding back before sending him my Instagram username.

[helpimhyperfixating]

A Writer’s Trouble - Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 3353

You were a writer. Quietly in class just writing whatever scenes came to your head when the material being taught was too complicated for you to understand or too boring. And at home, you busied yourself with fanfiction every now and then. When you enjoy shows, why not write some fan content for them right?

"Miss Y/N!"

The sound of your name being called made you shoot up in your seat, eyes wide.

All eyes of the class were on you, the teacher holding a stern expression. "That better be notes that you are taking." She crossed her arms and your cheeks started to burn slightly while you frantically nodded, not finding your voice to verbally answer. Clearly the teacher was not convinced by the look she gave you, but she just let it slide and continued on with the lesson.

After what felt like forever, the bell rung for lunch and as you were starting to pack up, suddenly two people surrounded your little table. Looking up, you saw two girls who were notoriously popular standing next to you. One sat down in the seat next to you while the other dragged a chair in front of your table and sat down right in front of you, a sweet smile on her face.

"Hi!" The one in front started and you leaned back a little.

"H-Hi?"

"We noticed you were writing something in class and we were just curious what."

This made you blink a few times in surprise. Why would they be interested in what a random girl is writing? "Why?"

This time, the one sitting next to you spoke up. "Well you see, I've been having trouble finding books I like recently. The ones in the school library are not really what I want but I snuck a peek of what you were doing in class just now and your writing seemed really good!" This caused a small blush to erupt on your cheeks. Not only because of the random compliment that came out of nowhere, but more so because of the fact she read what you had been writing. During class you were bored and your mind had drifted so you had written a random romantic scenario, and now she had read that?

"O-Oh?" You squeaked. She gave you a grin and you swallowed. "Uhm, thanks I guess."

"Could I read more?"

The question caught you off guard and to be honest, you just wanted to have lunch. But it seemed like you were going to have to eat it here with these two cause they didn't seem to have any intent to go away.

"Sure..." You weren't too comfortable with sharing most of your writing but there were a few random scenes and scenarios you thought these two would enjoy that you didn't mind sharing. You saw them every morning in the gaggle hanging around Kujo so you figured they'd like some cheesy romantic stuff. Bending down to sift through your bag, you got out your map/folder filled with pages that held the scenes and sifted through them, pulling out a few. "Here but do-" they were snatched from your hands before you could finish your sentence. "...be careful with them."

"Of course, of course." They both just dismissively waved and started reading them. At least they didn't run off with them, that was a plus.

You still had no idea what they were up to and you figured it wasn't to suddenly make friends with you. But you always had a hard time turning people down and they were acting nice to you, so why shouldn't you act nice back?

While they read you just got your lunch out of your bag and started eating it. You had nothing better to do anyways.

Lunch was slowly coming to a close and both girls finished reading.

"Ohhh, that was so romantic~" The one in front of you wistfully mused out, holding her chin in her hand as she dreamily stared at the ceiling.

"Yes, it was so good!" The one next to you said. Maybe you should learn their names instead of referring to them as 'girl' and 'girl but sitting next to you'. "It almost makes me wish for more."

Raising a sceptical eyebrow, you looked at her, urging her to continue because you figured this was the whole reason they were here. "Well, since you write this I was wondering, do you take requests?~"

You hummed a bit, looking between the two. They shared a look and there was a glint in their eye that you recognised but couldn't recall where you had seen them look like that before. "I've never done so before but maybe. What would you want?"

"Could you write me in such a scene with Jojo!?" The one next to you blurted out all of a sudden, making you visibly flinch back from the sudden burst of noise.

"No no! Please write it with me! My personality fits perfectly with the one in this story already!"

You were now being barraged with requests of romantic scenarios and begging to write them, all the while you just sat, blinking.

Of course. Of course. They were Kujo fan girls #1 and #2 so of course they would want this. You never understood why they kept trying to win his affection when he oh so clearly showed he was not interested.

I mean, you could see the appeal. He was tall dark and handsome, and the thought of a stoic man who loves no one making an exception for you was prime romantic material. But even you - who was as dense as an oakwood plank - even you knew when something was hopeless. You had never pursued the man. You respected his privacy and wishes. To you, he was just another classmate who just so happened to be hounded by half the female population.

"Ehh..." You started, trying to stop the girls from losing their mind and drooling over the delinquent - who wasn't even present - right then and there.

It took a second but both girls stopped and expectantly turned to you. The pure stars in their eyes made it very hard for you to say what you were about to say but you had to.

"I don't mind writing something for you. But I can't write something with Kujo in it. It just makes me very uncomfortable to write real people into a romantic scenario without them knowing of it. It just feels wrong." You put your hand up in a surrendering and calming gesture, hoping that would help defuse the bomb that was surely being built judging from their expressions. "If you had his permission and you both wanted it then it is a different story, but-"

"I have his permission! Jojo loves me, so of course he would want this!" The girl in front burst out, only for her 'friend' to turn to her.

"That's not true, he loves me!"

"No, me!"

"Me!"

"Me!"

This continued on and you slowly slunk back in your seat. You would have sunken under the table and made your escape that way, but one of the girls was sitting right in your path of exit. You were literally caged in between two fighting tigers, getting more and more ready to bite each other's heads off.

Just then, the door slammed open and both girls instantly shut up. In stepped the precise person of discussion and you only sunk further down into your seat, just wanting to disappear and be left alone.

"Oh! Jojo!~"

"Jojo! Why don't you come sit with us! I missed you!"

Jotaro viewed the class, seeing just you three in it, only for him to stride over to his desk, grab something he had left behind, and walk back out. He only spared you all a single glance and dread settled in your stomach. You were sitting with the two girls he probably hated most since they pestered him day in day out. What if he thought you were part of them now as well? What if he started to hate you too? Would he beat you up if you happened to run into each other outside of school?

Just then, the bell rung and to your surprise, both girls just sighed and stood up, starting to walk back to their own spots and leaving you without any further begging or questions. It left you a bit confused and wary of why they so suddenly seemed to forget you turned down writing about their dreamboat but just shrugged it off, hoping that was that.

- - - -

Three weeks had passed just like that. The girls had left you alone after that weird lunch and thankfully enough, Kujo seemed no more aware of your existence than before. Life continued on as normal and you just stayed your happy, quiet self.

"Hey, Y/N!"

You smiled at your best friend who was sitting at a table in the cafeteria, obnoxiously waving at you.

Quickly hurrying over, you grabbed her hand and yanked it down, sending apologetic glances to the people who had turned their heads to see the commotion. "Do you have to be so loud every time, B/F?"

"Of course." She grinned before pulling you down to sit with her. The unexpected action caused you to yelp and lose your balance. Instead of sitting down as intended, you were now splayed over B/F's lap who was cackling loudly at you.

"Oi, this is your fault! Shut it!" You laughed back and playfully hit her shoulder, making her let out an obnoxious 'oww' and rub it as you sat up.

"Y/N, you're always so mean to me." She pouted and you rolled your eyes. If there is one thing you certainly weren't it was mean.

"Well how can I make it up to you then, my dearest?" You played along, clasping your hands in front of you in a begging manner.

"Let me read your latest brain creations." She grinned and you drew your lips into a thin line. She knew you preferred to keep most writing to yourself because by god, sometimes you would create some abominations you wouldn't want anyone in the world to see. These of course, were the ones B/F loved most, cause she could make fun of you for them. You didn't seem to have another choice for now though, since B/F would most likely do something way worse if you didn't comply.

"Alright, alright." You sighed and hoisted your bag up, pulling your map with writings out and starting to thumb through them. "Huh." You remarked, a bit surprised.

"What?"

"It's not there. I could have sworn I put it in here." You hummed, grabbing your history notebook. You had written this piece in history class and thus it should be in there. But when you reached the most recent page, it was torn out, an indication that you should have already put it in your folder. "Oh god. I must have dropped it somewhere..." You went absolutely pale and B/F burst out laughing.

"Sucks to be you I guess!"

You only groaned and let your head fall to the table. Now there was a cheesy romance scene lost in the school! You just hoped someone would pick up the random page and throw it in the trash.

- - - -

~One week later~

You were the first one sitting in the cafeteria for once. Just patiently waiting for B/F, you twiddled your thumbs as you were mindlessly tracing the grooves in the table in front of you.

A hand suddenly slammed down right in your vision and you jumped in your seat. Quickly tracing the arm up to be met with an angrily glaring pair of aqua blue eyes.

"Get up." Jotaro said in a deep and demanding tone but you were frozen in your seat, just staring at him in slight fear.

"Do I have to repeat myself, bitch?" He harshly stated and you quickly stood up, going to grab your bag so you could let him have this table and find a new one for you and your friend, but instead, his hand clamped down on your shoulder, bunching the fabric there and dragging you off with him, leaving your bag behind.

By now, all the people in the cafeteria were staring and you were just scared shitless. What the hell did you do for him to want to beat you up?! He dragged you with him out of the cafeteria, through the halls and out the doors, moving to the back of the school before throwing you in front of him.

You stumbled a bit but luckily stayed on your feet, quickly turning back to look at him, taking a few steps back until your back hit the wall behind you.

"What-"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice cut you off and you shut your mouth. He seemed absolutely seething, towering over your tiny form as he glared from beneath his hat. It was quiet for a second, you just staring at him with wide eyes. "Well? Do I have to beat the shit out of you to get you to stop?" He threateningly raised his fist and you finally snapped out of your scared state, going defensive.

"No wait! I have no idea what you're talking about!" You frantically blurted out, waving your hands in front of yourself.

Jotaro, no less annoyed than before pulled something out of his jacket before slamming it right next to your head, holding it there. You squeaked at the action, now fully trapped with no escape.

"This is what I'm talking about." He was leaning down to be eye to eye with you now, caging you in with his arm right next to your head. His free hand was pointing to where he held his other hand and you turned your head to see what he meant.

Beneath his fingers lay a piece of paper, clearly crumpled up and unrolled several times. Unsure of what it was, you lifted your hand and took hold of the corner, making sure not to touch Jotaro's hand in fear that that would make him deck you.

Thankfully, he removed his hand from the wall and took a step back, giving you some personal space again and allowing you to grab the paper and read it.

Smoothening it out, you started reading.

Jotaro kept a close eye on your reactions, a little wary of how clueless you were appearing to be. As you started skimming the page, your eyes widened, almost immediately followed by a furrowing of your brows. You looked confused, but as your eyes got further and further down the page, it turned to angry.

Jotaro squinted his eyes at you, only to be surprised when you suddenly crumpled up the paper, pure hate radiating off of you. "Those goddamn bitches..." Of course, he never showed any surprise, keeping his stoic facade but to say Jotaro was intrigued was an understatement.

Turning to look at him, all fear you previously had was gone, replaced by anger. "This wasn't me." You held up the paper. Hitting it once, you ground your teeth. "Those girls stole my work and put your name in it."

Sceptical, Jotaro raised an eyebrow, still glaring down at you. But his stance was now more aloof than it was threatening and you took it as a sign to explain what you were talking about.

"Your fangirl number 1 and 2 asked me a while ago to write about you, I refused and it seems they took matters into their own hands." You turned around as you said that, looking at the school and glaring at it, as if that would do any good.

"So you didn't write it?" Crossing his arms, Jotaro was still looking down on you and you turned back to face him.

"Oh no, I did." You said and un-crumpled the paper, holding it up for him and pointing to a very specific point. "That's supposed to say 'B' though, not 'Jotaro'. I never write character names, just A and B cause honestly? fuck coming up with names."

Jotaro scoffed a little in amusement and then let out a heavy sigh. "It seemed too competent to come from them indeed."

You couldn't help but laugh loudly at his statement, accidentally causing you to drop the paper. "Woops." You said through laughs and picked it up, calming down as you stood up straight again. "Sorry this happened by the way." You then said and Jotaro sent you a questioning look. "I don't write about real people for a reason and this is exactly why. It's just wrong to do without permission."

Jotaro hummed and you suddenly realised who exactly you were talking to.

Awkwardly clearing your throat, you just put the paper in your pocket. "I'll make sure they won't be able to steal any more of my writing so if it works, you won't have to worry about seeing terribly written cheesy romantic scenes anymore. Apart from maybe their own attempts at it." You chuckled at that last bit and looked up to cross eyes with Jotaro.

There seemed to be a somewhat amused glint in them, putting you at ease.

Just then, you remembered a thing and you opened your mouth before abruptly closing it. Following it up with a deep breath. "Okay maybe you will still see some come by for the next few days. I left my bag in the cafeteria, unmanned and unsupervised. Prime chance for some grubby hands to go through it."

"Let's go make sure they fuck off before they plunder the entire thing then."

Jotaro simply turned around while you blinked, pleasantly surprised before you sprinted to catch up with him.

You both walked around the school in quiet, moving to the front doors so you could re-enter again and make your way to the cafeteria.

"I don't mean to pry," You started after a little bit and saw Jotaro glance at you from the corner of his eye, a somewhat wary look in his eye but you just continued. "But how do you keep yourself from punching that entire gaggle of screeching sheep? Honestly I already feel like punching them when I hear them next to me for more than two minutes. And you have to deal with it every day for way longer."

Jotaro visibly relaxed and you heard him let out an amused exhale. "Wouldn't have guessed I have better patience than you." He said back.

You let out an offended gasp at that. "Excuse me my patience is amazing. And let's be fair, I can hear you across the school every day when you yell at them."

He sent you a small side glare, quickly returning to stoically looking forward. "Yes but I haven't ever punched them."

"Neither have I." You smirked. "See? Good patience."

"How about you practice some of that good patience and shut up." His tone of voice was harsh but you could tell there was no anger behind it, so you just let a small smile of victory take over your features as you both walked into the cafeteria.

To say heads turned in surprise when you walked in side by side with Jotaro, unharmed, would be an understatement.

Walking up to the table you had been sitting at, you were relieved to see your friend sitting there, looking at you in disbelief with your bag next to her.

Waving, you walked up and turned to the tall delinquent next to you. "Thanks for not beating me up. I'll see you around." You gave him a weird mock solute before giggling slightly at your stupidity.

Jotaro just hummed and gave you a nod, stuffing his hands in his pocket and turning around, walking out of the cafeteria without a word.

That went way better than you ever could have thought.