#it’s been forever and a day since i’ve done a study… and i’ve been watching a lot of house lately so

[71eh]

mr. casanova himself…

[chunghasweetie]

𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK

— part 2

— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk

— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | rush — william singe

His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.

His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.

Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.

Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.

Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.

The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.

He was already done for.

“Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”

He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.

“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.

“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.

His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.

He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.

He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.

Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.

“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.

He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”

The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.

She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.

“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”

He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”

She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.

Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.

Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.

He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.

He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.

“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.

‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.

He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up

He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.

“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”

He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”

He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.

“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.

His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.

He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”

She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.

His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.

It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.

“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.

He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.

He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.

About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.

“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“

“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Y/n interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”

He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.

He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”

“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”

He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“

“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”

He nodded.

Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.

He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.

He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.

Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.

“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.

“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.

Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“It just— never happened.” He told her.

“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”

“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”

She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.

He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”

“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.

“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”

Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”

She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.

Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.

She had no interest in anyone like that.

She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.

Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.

Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.

He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.

Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.

Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.

It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.

Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.

Hated it because it wasn’t her.

She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”

He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.

“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.

“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.

She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.

“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”

Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.

She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.

Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”

There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.

His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.

He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”

“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.

He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.

He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.

“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.

He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.

“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.

“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.

“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”

He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.

“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”

“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.

Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.

She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.

He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”

“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”

He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”

“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.

He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.

He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.

“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”

Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.

“It’s good huh baby?” Y/n cooed. “You’re so big baby”

“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.

He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"

She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.

Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.

Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.

He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."

She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”

Jungkook's heart races as Y/n grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”

“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”

Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”

“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.

Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Y/n begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.

He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”

His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.

“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.

Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."

He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.

If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”

She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.

She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.

“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.

“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.

“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.

She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”

She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.

He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.

He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.

She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.

He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”

He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.

He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.

“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.

The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.

He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.

His dreams finally came true.

༊—

The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.

“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.

Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.

Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”

His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.

Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.

“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.

Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.

[linos-luna]

Hi gorgeous 💞

I hope you're doing well (I was worried af)

If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a yandere hyunjin x f reader smut where the reader who is already held hostage is given a gift by hyunjin (just surprise me with your writing girl)?

I would seriously appreciate it from my heart ❤️

Wanna see a manipulative, toxic and delusional hyunjin in love with me 😩

Bye ���

Sorry it’s late! I’ve been so busy! 😭

Happy late birthday 🎊

———————————————————

Work of Art 🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Reader

Warnings: Yandere!, 18+, slight Stockholm Syndrome?, Slapping, Hair pulling, Emotional manipulation

—————————————— 💞

It’s been two months. Two months since you lost your freedom. Hyunjin was obsessed. He wants you to keep you in his home forever. If he goes out, he handcuffed you to the bed frame. Although lately he hasn’t done that. Probably because now you don’t move. You seemed to have given up on trying.

The days blended together so you didn’t even realize that today was your birthday. You stayed in bed until noon, only waking when some light from the window hit your face. You sat up, only to see Hyunjin standing at the door. Watching.

“Good morning, my love.” He said with a soft smile. “Today is a special day!”

“What….?” You mumbled.

“How could you forget?! It’s your birthday, silly!” He chuckled while going to you and leaning in to kiss you.

You were silent, actually surprised that you forgot your own birthday.

The man stroked your hair as he waited for your kiss although you didn’t budge. This seemed to frustrate him and he pulled your hair so your lips touch his. “Y/n!” He whined.

Reluctantly, you kiss him. He bit your lip and kissed you with lots of passion.

Sure you kissed back but not with as much vigor as him. This only hurts his heart.

“Y/n! I don’t understand…” he whined. “why…? Why won’t you love me like I love you!”

“Hyunjin, you kidnapped me!”

“Because I love you!”

“This isn’t love!!” You interrupted. “This… this is hell!”

“No no no… i-I’m sorry! It shouldn’t be!” Hyunjin frowned and dropped to his knees while holding your hand. “I only wanted to show you love and cherish you. I want to spoil you!”

“Hyunjin—”

“I’m sorry, y/n…” He pouts, giving you sad eyes, “I-i never meant to hurt you…”

“Hyunjin… you—!”

“No no I'm awful!” He interrupted while starting to cry. “I-I just want someone to love… I-I’ve never had someone love and care like you do. You’re so genuine and kind…”

He continued rambling. From his rough upbringing to his desire for love. He’s all alone in this world and it had your heart breaking for him.

“I-I have a gift for you…” he said softly. “Please. I worked so hard on it.”

“O-okay…” you nodded reluctantly.

Joy lit up his face and he quickly left the room. As soon as he left, the tears were gone. It was as if he flipped off the emotion like a light switch. Instead, he smiled to himself.

Hyunjin came back in the bedroom with a canvas. You were a bit confused until he turned it around. It was you. A painted picture of you sleeping. The style made you look angelic.

It was beautiful but also unnerving. When did he paint this? Was he watching you while sleeping? Every minuet detail of your features was there. Every mole and blemish was painted in great detail.

“Wow, Hyunjin… it’s very nice.” You said slowly while studying it. You couldn’t lie, it really was an amazing painting.

“Oh, my love. I’m glad you love it!” He smiled. “I worked so hard to capture your essence! You truly are a work of art!”

You couldn’t help blushing. You’ve never had a compliment like that and it was giving you butterflies in your stomach.

“Thank you, Hyunjin… I-I really do love it…”

“Oh good!” He was excited as he leaned in close. “Please, my love. May I kiss you?”

There was a moment of silence before you nod.

———— 💞

Dinner was a bit awkward. You sat in silence as he fed you.

“Do you like it?” He said suddenly.

“I do but… Hyunjin I can feed myself.”

“No darling. Don’t worry about that.” He said while putting more meat on the fork.

“No really—…” you grab the fork from him, about to raise it to your mouth before he suddenly slapped it away.

“Hyunjin—!”

Before you could finish, there was a swift slap to your face.

“No! Only I can feed you!” Hyunjin yelled suddenly.

You held your cheek in shock, too stunned to speak.

“Oh I’m so sorry!! My love, I'm sorry!!” He suddenly switched up and got to his knees, dropping the bowl of food to the ground, but he didn’t seem to care.

“No! Don’t cry! Don’t be mad!” He begged while grabbing into each side of your hair and pulling you close. “Please forgive me! I love you!”

“A-agh! Hyunjin!” You whimpered as he tugged harder.

“My darling. My sweet girl, please!”

He pulled harder, making you drop from your seat to the floor.

“J-Jinnie! You’re hurting me!!”

“W-what?!” He paused, still holding onto your hair. “No! No im not!!”

“Jinnie stop!”

“No you stop!” He yelled. “I love you! I’m just trying to love you!!” His voice broke as tears formed and it made you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hyunjin…”

“No! You don’t love me!” He sobbed. “I-I thought I finally found my soulmate… one that will love me as much as I love her!” Hyunjin wiped some tears while looking at you. “I-I’ve never had that kind of love. My M-mother left! A-And father would beat me! I-I only wish you give the love I never received!”

Whether this story was true or not -it’s not-, you wouldn’t be able to tell. But his vulnerability and tears tugged at your heartstrings.

“Hyunjin….”

“No! Just go!” He cried. “Just leave me! Leave me all alone! I’m used to it!” He pulled some keys from his pocket and threw them in front of you.

You were frozen in place. You felt awful. Pure guilt. How could you hurt him like this?? All he wanted was love. You felt like a monster.

Without much thinking, you hugged him tight. “I-I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin leaned into your hug, making himself look as small and vulnerable as possible while continuing to weep.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” you whispered while rubbing his back.

“C-can I… can I give you a bath?” He asked softly. “I-I wanted to spoil you with a little… at home spa…”

You pulled away and looked at him. Here he was crying and expressing his deepest emotions and traumas, and yet he was still thinking of you. He was still wanting to spoil and shower you with love.

You only nodded and Hyunjin smiles before kissing your forehead and leaving to the restroom, getting some of the soaps and candles ready.

It made you feel guilty. Perhaps you have this all wrong. He really does have a good heart. Perhaps you’ve never experienced real love. Maybe… this is what true love is.

Hyunjin had no more tears. This face had cleared up so fast as soon as he entered the restroom. In fact he had a smile. A satisfied one, like a spoiled child that got his way. It was just too easy.

Hyunjin walked to the bedroom, grabbing a robe for you, stopping by the painting. He took a deep breath while running his fingers along your painted nude body.

He turned back to the restroom, mustering up some tears red cheeks before calling out to you.

"Come on, my love! The bath is ready!'

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.

Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.

Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work. 

“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“How so?”

“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”

“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles. 

“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”

“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”

“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”

You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.

“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.

“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”

You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.

“You also always find your answer when you do.”

“And I do like talking to you.”

“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Asshole.”

You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises. 

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”

You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.

“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”

“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours. 

“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.

But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.

You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.

“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.

Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.

“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.

“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.

“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.

“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile. 

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”

Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.

And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.

“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”

“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose. 

“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”

“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”

It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.

“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.

“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.

“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”

“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”

“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”

“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”

“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”

“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.

“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library. 

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.

As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.

The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.

“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.

“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”

Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”

Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.

“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”

“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”

“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”

You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”

Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”

Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”

“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”

Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.

Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.

“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.

“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.

His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.

“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”

“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”

This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips. 

“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”

“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”

“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”

As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.

“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”

Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”

“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”

“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”

Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”

“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”

Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.

“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”

You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”

“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”

“Matt—.”

“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”

“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”

“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”

You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”

“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”

“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”

The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.

Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.

“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”

Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours. 

“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.

Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”

“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”

“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”

“Fog—.”

“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.

“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.

“Stop it!” you urge.

“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.

“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.

“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”

“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”

“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”

“Hey!”

“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”

“Excuse me—.”

“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”

“Foggy—.”

“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”

Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me. 

“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”

You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.

“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.

“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.

“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.

“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It’s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”

“Does he know that we’re still together?”

“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”

You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”

“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”

“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”

“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.

“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.

“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.

“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.

“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”

Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.

“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”

“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”

“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”

“Matty, it’s okay.”

“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”

“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”

“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”

You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.

“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.

“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.

“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”

“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”

“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”

“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”

You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”

You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”

You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”

When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.

“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.

“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”

After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.

“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.

“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.

“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”

“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”

“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.

“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”

“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.

“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”

He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”

“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”

“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”

As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.

“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.

“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”

“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”

“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”

“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.  

“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you. 

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

“No cream,” he says with a little smile. 

Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life. 

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.

“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”

“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”

“You still can,” you say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”

“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.

“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases. 

“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.

“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.

“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”

“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar. 

“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”

“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.

“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”

“How about save the world?” you offer.

“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”

“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”

“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”

“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.

“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”

“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”

“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.

“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”

“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.

“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.

“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione

[thehomeofplatonicfics]

Hiya! I am soooo happy you opened your request box cause I've been loving all your fics so far <3 Can I request a hogwarts legacy mc reader fic talking to a portrait of professor fig after the events of the game? I always think they game never acknowledged how upset mc would really be losing fig, like their expression in the funeral was so blank it was painful!!

A/N: Oh my gosh, anon! Thank you so much for being the first person to send me a request! I 100% agree with you, like I was sobbing during that scene and MC just scrunches their nose?! I honestly think this is my best fic, so please if you like it do tell me! <3

I Miss You

MC!Reader x Professor Fig (platonic!)

It had only been two months since you became the hero of Hogwarts. Only two months since the only father figure you’d ever had died. The professors had quickly commissioned his portrait, and for over a week now he had hung proudly inside the office of his Magical Theory classroom. You had yet to visit the portrait of Professor Fig. The upcoming OWLs, only days away, were your main excuse. That you simply didn’t have time. In truth, you were scared to confront your loss head on… no one could make you admit how much Eleazar Fig’s passing had affected you.

As you left an early morning study session, you mused about how difficult it would be for Professor Fig’s successor. They would surely know that they had big shoes to fill. You imperceptibly shook your head to yourself, whoever they were… you almost felt sorry for them.

Heading down the corridor towards the Great Hall for a well-deserved breakfast, you walked past the classroom you’d come to know so well. Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot. It was like you were hit with your grief all at once. You realised what you were truly afraid of… the future, one you had to face without your mentor.

You needed to see the office. You needed Professor Fig. Gliding towards the classroom, eyes searching the corridor for anyone watching you, you slipped through the classroom door. Passing through the empty classroom, you cautiously opened the office door that you once used to bolt through. The confidence was gone, maybe forever.

It was difficult to miss the large painting hanging behind the professor’s desk, and your eyes instantly locked with his familiar brown ones. He gave a smile of relief, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. “Ah, Y/N. I wondered when I’d be seeing you. What brings you here?” You felt yourself welling up, and you balled your hands into fists to try and maintain some composure. His voice was like a drop of rain in the midst of the hottest desert.

“I just… I just need some advice.” The words tumbled out of you before you could think about it as you slowly stepped closer and closer to the painting. “The Hero of Hogwarts needing my humble advice? Sounds serious.” He spoke with a bemused tone. You jumped up to sit on top of his desk, hunching over to make yourself as small as possible, hands clasped tightly. Anything to stop yourself from breaking down. “You are… were a hero too.” You muttered under your breath.

“What troubles you, my young friend?” He looked at you with furrowed brows and a concerned gaze. He had never seen you so downtrodden before.

“Well, I don’t know… I guess just - everyone else has had five years to prepare for the exams. And I, well, I’ve only had one.” You rolled your eyes at yourself, almost feeling silly for complaining about it. “And you’ve done exceptionally well, you’ve surpassed any expectations that anyone had of you. Including me, and my expectations of you were already very high.”

“What if I’ve not done enough?” You questioned, deliberately looking anywhere except at Fig’s painting. “What if I don’t get the grades I need?” The painting shook his head with a lopsided smile. After all you’d accomplished, you still couldn’t see your true worth. “I know you shall. I’ve seen you work, I’ve seen your abilities. There is no doubt in my mind you’ll get at least Exceeds Expectations in every class.” You shook your head slowly, wanting to believe it but feeling like something was blocking you. A few moments of silence passed, the professor patiently waiting for you to continue, knowing instinctively that something more was bothering you.

“What will my future be? What do I want to be?” You looked up, staring directly into his painted eyes, desperately trying to remember his real ones. How warm they had been, how you could see decades of wisdom and experience behind them. “I’ve known so little about this world, and now I have to decide my whole future in it.” Your voice cracked as you struggled to keep your emotions bottled in. Professor Fig nodded his head sagely, and you knew he understood what you needed in that moment.

“You’d like my help to decide?” It was more of a statement than a question. “Help me prioritise which subjects to focus on.” A hand ran through your hair, then over your face. “I’ll need the best grades in subjects I carry to NEWTs… and those exams determine my career, right?” The painting hesitated, clasping his hands in front of him before humming in agreement.

Silence again. This time it was charged, heavy with words unsaid. You wanted to break the silence but didn’t know what to say. Technically, the Professor Fig in front of you wasn’t really him and as you chewed on your lip staring at floor below the painting, you were painfully aware of it.

“I think you should consider taking Magical Theory as a NEWT.” Your head whipped up to meet Fig’s gaze, eyebrows raised. “No… No, I couldn’t.” He frowned, his head tilting slightly. “Why not? We spent the whole year researching your own magic, I think you could teach the class yourself now.” He chuckled to himself, but the eyes that once sparkled when he laughed remained the same dull brown. Another reminder that things would never be the same. “Because… it wouldn’t be you teaching me. I don’t think I could stand it. Someone else standing where you should be.”

You stared at each other for a few moments before you broke the eye contact, lowering your eyes into your lap, your hands almost bleeding from how deep you were digging your nails into your skin.

“Y/N, I may never have taught you officially in my class, but you’ll always be my proudest achievement. I hope you know that.” He always knew exactly what to say, even when you didn’t know what you needed to hear. The tears slipped down your cheeks before you could stop them, and soon the floodgates opened and all the bottled emotions came seeping out at once.

“I miss you so much. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you.” Loud sobs echoed across the office, and a hand lay on your chest as you tried to fight the intensity of what you were feeling. “You taught me everything, I wouldn’t even be here without you. And now I have to continue on without my… father.”

The painting of the Professor looked shocked for a moment before he melted into a warm smile. If he could have hugged you, he would have. “I’ll always be here, Y/N. I know it isn’t quite the same. But the advantage of being a painting is that you’ll always know where to find me. I won’t be off on a week-long research project… or sent off on one of the headmaster’s silly errands.”

A quiet giggle escaped you, soon developing into a real laugh. It was brief, but it was time you’d laughed since he died. Professor Fig smiled down at you, pleased to see a glimpse of your old self again. You wiped away your tears, summoning a parchment and quill. “Okay. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” You announced with a true smile, one that the painting returned with a fond nod. It wasn't quite the same, but the painting would help you through your grief. You'd always have a piece of your mentor in your heart.

[wildemaven]

Saturdays with Javier: Always, Forever

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count: 1463

Warnings: Talks of death/loss; otherwise pure softness and fluff

A/N: This came to me late the other night and I’m a mess. I’ve been wanting to write more for these two, but didn’t want it to feel forced. This seemed like the perfect addition to their story. Hoping it flows well and doesn’t seem too rushed. The quote mentioned didn’t have a source that I could find, but if you happen to know please let me know and I will site it. Like always, this is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own doing. I also added some Spanish, it’s been many years since I’ve studied it or spoke it, so I apologize if I miss stepped and miss used any words/phrases, I used google translate (please let me know and I will fix).

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

His nerves are firing off the charts. This isn’t some planned raid he’s done with a crowd of well trained men behind him. No bullet proof vest to protect his rapidly beating heart.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

His gaze shifts from the ground below his feet, up and out to the faces sitting before him. All familiar in their own right. Each one bringing a sense of peace to his nervous riddled body.

Inhale. Exhale.

Breathe.

A few family and close friends sit under the old tree that’s tucked away on the back side of his father’s ranch. Draped in a simple white cloth, the tree has been witness to many life events throughout Javier’s lifetime.

It’s branches providing protection on the hot summer days as a teen. A spot at the base of the trunk he’d find himself when life felt the most unfair.

After the loss of his Mama, this tree was where her service was held. Many gathering beneath its coverage to celebrate the beautiful woman she was. That day Javier spoke about how much she meant to him and how he’d do his best to grow up to be the man she wanted him to become.

The branches continuing to provide protection even as a grown man. Each visit sitting in the same spot. He’d talk to his Mama here, not ever really sure if she could hear him. He’d tell her about all what had happened between each visit. It’s where he shared with her his thoughts and feelings. He’d told her about the DEA and how he’d be leaving for Colombia— expressing it would be awhile before he would be able to visit again. Each visit to this spot he felt closer to her. Before he would leave, he’d look up through the crown of branches and leaves and tell her he loved her, “Te Amo Siempre”.

Steve, Connie and Olivia are among those gathered today— they wouldn’t dream of missing this day. He nods to Steve, a silent thank you for the many hours of travel to be here.

Your parents sit in the first row of the few chairs scattered about. Hands clasped together in your mothers lap. She smiles up at him and it feels like a warm hug. Your Dad gives a slight nod, a silent thank you to Javier for being the partner he wished for his daughter.

Across the isle, Chucho sits in his finest suit. His signature cowboy hat blocking the afternoon sun that’s filtering through the leaves. He’s holding his late wife’s handkerchief tightly, already anticipating the waves of emotions the day will bring.

Beside his pops is an open chair. Something you’d suggested in the early stages of planning as a way to honor his Mama. A single rose sits on the seat, picked from one of the many roses bushes Chucho still tends to for her all these years later. Javier knows his Mama would love you, you possess so many qualities similar to her own.

A breeze picks up, the branches swaying slightly and a sense of calmness washes over Javier. He looks up, the leaves dancing in delight and he can sense his Mama watching over this day.

The music shifts to the next song, cuing the walk he’s been waiting to witness for what feels like a lifetime. A guitarist strumming the beginning chords of the familiar tune, he insisted it be your song, as you make your way to him. He’s not sure he’s ever been so captivated by anything as stunning as you.

*

Your white dress flowing with each step you take— closer to him, closer to being his wife. He’s waiting for you, look so handsome in his black suit and bow tie.

You wanted to surprise him with something special for this day.

Weeks ago you had ask Chucho if would be possible to take one of his Mama’s old dresses to repurpose it into something for Javier. He was more than willing, and gave you one of her favorites. She’d worn it to so many family holidays and gatherings when Javier was younger, Chucho mentioning it was one of Javier’s favorites too.

Enlisting the help of Javier’s Tia, you made him a simple bow tie and pocket square. On the corner of the pocket square, you stitched his Mama’s initials, MP.

Last night after dinner with family, before parting ways, you presented him with a small box containing the handmade gift. You explained to Javier the story behind how they came to be, hoping he would love them.

He was beyond speechless at your generosity in making him something so special and meaningful. He held you close and you both cried together— not in sadness but in the love you shared for each other and what was to be.

Whispered words of gratitude danced across your lips, Javier doing his best to express his love for you and yet he feels like it’s not enough. The last shared kiss before seeing each again, parting ways beneath the starry night.

Your song carries through the emotion rich atmosphere, you feet guiding you to the row of seats taken by your mother and father. You turn to them, their smiles bigger than you’d ever seen before. Their arms wrapping around you, they each place a kiss on your forehead.

You turn around to see Chucho. He’s a blubbering mess, wiping the tears as you make your way to him. He stands and pulls you in— he tells you he’s never seen his son happier and more present since you stepped into his life. You thank him for everything he does to aid in Javier’s contentment as you wipe a few tears from his face.

You step around Chucho to the open chair next to him. Bending down you place your bouquet, a small bundle of delicate white flowers wrapped in a gauzy white ribbon, on the seat next to the single rose. You close your eyes and thank Maria for being with you today as you marry her son. And you promise to love Javier until your last breath.

*

Javier

It’s Saturday, it’s easily become my favorite day of the week. When you asked me to dance that Saturday night, I had no clue I was stepping into a forever.

A forever spent with you is what I envisioned on my drive home that night. I knew you were it for me, and since that day you continue to prove me right.

My life has a greater purpose now. It’s showing you how much you are loved daily and never letting your nightmares win. I will continue to hold you in the early hours of the morning so you know you are home and you are not alone.

I read a quote the other day and it feel so fitting for our life together.

“Someday when the pages of my life end, I know that you will be one of the most beautiful chapters.”

I promise you forever Javier. Forever with you will always be enough.

I love you Javier

*

Mi Amor

I never thought I was deserving of a life filled with love and happiness, but you showed me that I am.

From a young age, I kept parts of me tucked away from everyone, especially myself. Being vulnerable was too risky in the line of work I was in, and as the years went on I forgot what it was even like to feel anything but grief and despair.

When I came home from Colombia, it was hard to imagine a life of normalcy. Until I walked into that bar and asked a complete stranger to dance. I believe that moment is when I knew my life would become more fulfilling than I ever dreamed.

You see me, flaws and all, yet still continue to love me. My days are brighter now, and I owe that to you.

I promise this life together will be forever— because forever with you is a lifetime worth living for.

Thank you for loving me with your heart and soul. I will spend the rest of my life hoping I can make you feel as loved as you make me feel.

Te amo

*

Vows exchange and rings placed, he can’t help but admire you— taking it all in. A kiss shared that’s more impactful than any bullet that’s threatened his life.

He wipes the few fleeing tears from your cheeks. His touch, warm and delicate against your skin.

Declaring his love for you in front of those who mean the most was not anything he’d ever expected for himself. Now he doesn’t see a future where you aren’t with him, tucked securely into his side— loved and protected.

[arueternity]

How would the ST Boys + V react to you crying because of them? Sorry. I'm in my feels and it popped into my head. -💙

Hello~ I promise I'm not dead. Just been dealing with midterms and all that fun college stuff. Anyways here's this... So sorry if it wasn't exactly comforting. <3 Vessel

Vessel has been stressing over Sleep more than normal

Its gotten to the point no one can stop his studies to make him eat or take care of himself

You’ve began to worry about him and have tried to talk to him about it, but every time he brushes you off

After the 6th attempt it began to get violent and angry.

You had yelled some choice words about him not caring about you or himself, that he’ll end up dead before long

Vessel ends up stopping whatever he’s doing to watch the tears roll down your face

It killed him on the inside to see that fact he caused those tears

“Look at me, love…” He says while wiping the tears from your cheeks, “I’m sorry. I didn’t notice just how much you needed me. How much I’ve been stuck up in this…” Vessel sighs and gestures around the room signifying what he meant. He runs a hand under his mask and groans softly, the days finally catching up to him. You watch him quietly, anger slowly leaving you at the sight of how stressed he seems to be. “No Ves,” You sigh with guilt eating away at you, “I didn’t see how much this is stressing you out…”  You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his torso. He allows you the touch, maybe to comfort you but maybe it's to comfort himself. Vessel gently rests his head against yours in a loving manner. His hand coming to wrap around your back and pull the two of you even closer than before. You sit in silence for what seems like forever, but an eternity of peace and love. Once you look up, you are able to notice the soft wetness to his eyes. “Lover, are you okay…” He nods but doesn’t trust himself to speak. The stress of dealing with Sleep and upsetting you finally crashed onto the man. You stand straight and place a loving kiss on his jaw line. “Let me help you next time…”

II

Due to the influx of worshippers, the boys have been practicing a lot more then normal

II especially wants to make sure his parts are perfect, wanting to give his everything to the show he loves.

He spends days practcing till his arms are sore and his hands are numb

He has gone through so many pairs of drumsticks and he keeps calling you to get him more

But after so many times of retrieving more sticks, it starts to get to you.

He hasn’t looked at you for longer then 2 secs and haven’t even talked to you besides asking for his equipment. 

You go to hand him the last pair the store has, he doesn’t even bother looking up when you tell him the information.

It hits hard, the pack is meant to bond and here he is isolating not only himself but you. 

Tears pool in your eyes and your nose fills up with snot.

“II, please it's weeks since you’ve done anything but play…” Your voice cracked as you raised the volume. He glances at you before bringing his eyes back to the drum kit in front of him. Frustration and loneliness burning like a wild fire in your heart. “II if you don’t stop fucking playing!” You scream over the beat of The Summoning. Finally he stops playing and really looks at you for the first time in a while. “Fuck baby.. Hey… No stop..” He drops everything he’s doing and stands to rush to you. Tears finally fall from your eyes as a soft sob leaves your throat, “I’ve been doing so much but I don’t even get a simple thank you!” II carefully pulls you into him, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks. He lets you cry all while rubbing your back and holding you as close as possible. Once the tears begin to slow and all that is heard in the practice room is a soft sniffle, “I promise everything you do… I’m thankful for… I love you  I didn’t realize…”

III

Everyone knows the bassist is always bouncing around on stage.

Well he is extremely similar when it comes to his private life

He is always goofy and a ray of sunshine that sometimes gets on people’s nerves.

III will play jokes on you whenever he notices you feeling upset or generally down. 

Sometimes it does help but sometimes you just wish your personal bassist would sit and talk to you 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to have a conversation with him about the relationship, he brushes it off like there is nothing to talk about. 

It is extremely upsetting and finally, you snapped.

Corning III during one of his joking moments and told him everything that was on your mind.

He stared down at you in extreme confusion and slight hurt, his back pressed against the door of your door. “Sugar… What’s going on? Uh, you seem upset?” You exhale and pinch the bridge of your nose while tapping your foot. The little movement does nothing to ease the anger in your system. “Of course I’m upset! I’ve been trying to talk to you about something for days now! Yet you brush me off !” III flinches back at the outburst and watches as tears of frustration fall onto the floor. “I-I didn’t know you were trying to talk to me…” He trails off avoiding your fierce glaze. A soft whimper falls from his mouth when your tears begin to fall faster. “It's like you don’t even care about me III!” He sucks in a harsh breath and makes a rash decision. III pulls you into him and locks his arms around you, refusing to let go no matter how much you struggle. You scream in slight frustration because sobbing into his chest. “Am I just not good enough for you… why can’t you just love me…” The creature lifts his mask above his nose and kisses your lips passionately. “Of course, I love you Sugar… I just struggle with… this,” He motions to the two of you, “I’m not great with feelings but I don’t wanna lose you… tell me everything... Please.” He begs softly while looking into your eyes lovingly.

IV

You loved your goofy guitarist, held him higher than the moon

He was always the calm-ish one out of the group, keeping to himself and whenever he needed to

Sadly sometimes the quietness of IV became worrisome.

His anxiety getting the best of him, his guard staying up to keep the whole “calm and stoic” impression

You tried to talk to him about this, but he would always say he is fine and brush it off

It was clear he wasn’t okay, his normal dancing on stage during into just a small bounce in his step

His kisses and touch becoming short and almost emotionless 

It hurt you to know he wouldn’t talk to you, no matter how hard you try

The ritual had gone well, everyone cheering and obviously having the time of their lives, everyone but IV. Your lover had been off in his little corner of the stage. You sat waiting backstage preparing to help clean and pack up. IV was the last one to join you backstage, his eyes calm but holding a clouded-over look. He ignored you, ignored everyone trying to congratulate him for the performance. You knew how he got, you knew he wouldn’t talk to anyone about this. With a sigh, you walked to him and grabbed his sleeve wanting to drag him into one of the private dressing rooms. He allows you to pull him, not wanting to even cause a scene. Once in the room with the door shut, you cross your arms glaring up at him with worry and anger. “IV, I’ve had enough of this. What. Is. Going. On.” He blinks at you in confusion before patting your head as though you were a dog. “Nothing love, I’m fine there is nothing going on.” You take a deep breath and hug him tightly. You shake in anger and hold him, “There’s nothing wrong, there’s nothing wrong!” Your voice shakes with sad anger, “You always say this and you never talk to me!” IV sighs and pushes you off him carefully as he moves to place his hand on your cheek. “I don’t want to worry you, you are already stressed… I don’t want to add onto it.” You whimper softly, a single tear falling from your face. Your lover stares at the tear falling down your face and gently wipes it away. “Shh it’s okay…” IV places his forehead against yours and hums softly. “IV please just… Tell me what’s going on with you.” You reach out grabbing at his shirt with a tight shaky grip. “It's just…” 

V

V had always had anger issues, lashing out at anyone who was in his way

If someone were to piss him off, he would attempt to walk away but sometimes it’s not enough

Sometimes just sometimes, III loves to push V’s buttons to set him off

The worst you’ve seen from your lover was when he punched 3 fist-sized holes in the wall

Everything was so fast and so loud, his voice raising the more he was pissed

You knew it was best to stay away from him when he was like this, not wanting his anger to be directed towards you. 

But of course, there were times like now when you happened to get in the way

“I swear to FUCKING god! III broke my guitar!” V yells while he tosses his nearly shattered guitar. You look up from your position on the bed, you stare at him in confusion and slight fear. He sighs in frustration and kicks the door closed causing a loud slamming sound. You jerk at the noise and move further back onto the bed. Knowing it is best to stay quiet you say nothing at the man’s rage. V’s eyes catch your movement, noticing the way you flinch at every noise he makes. “Oh so now you’re going to act like you’re scared of me? What the fuck!” You cover your mouth quickly attempting to quiet the soft whimper that falls from it. He smiles angrily and sucks on his fanged teeth, eyes flaring up with emotions. V takes a step closer to you, cornering you against the bed and the wall. Your breath quickens, tears begin to quickly form and fall down straining your face. He pauses, face falling at the sight of you so scared of him. V attempts to reach out of you carefully but pulls his hand back when your crying turns into loud sobs. Your hands tremble as you quickly gather your things and run out of the room. V is left standing in the middle of the room in shock taking in what he has done. Then and only then does he notice he had kicked a hole in the door. “Fuck…”

[transsexual-dandelions]

Weekly tag Wednesday !!

Thank u for the tags @spookygingerr and @especially-fuk-u !!

Name: dean :D

Age: 18

Your time zone: EST

What do you do for work: I’m in school right now so nothing, but this summer (probably in a couple weeks) I’m working at a pool store and maybe an ice cream shop

Do you have any pets?: yes!! I have a calico cat named Salem, she’s my best friend and so cute I love her so much

What first drew you to the fandom: I kept seeing clips of shameless on TikTok, I finally caved and started watching it over the summer, and I got hooked ever since (averaged a season and a half in a day), lurked around the fandom for a while but then started majorly interacting. I’ve never been normal about anything I’ve ever consumed, this is no exception (autism goes brrrr)

Morning person or night owl?: night owl baby!! Earliest you’ll get me up is 10am, I’ll go to sleep around 3-4 am (I also have insomnia)

What are your hobbies?: any type of art or craft, I paint, sew, draw, bookbind and just random miscellaneous stuff, my last art project was making spikes for my jacket from soda cans. I also read, like, a lot, mainly fanfiction bc special interest, but also I love non fiction (essays, memoirs, political theory) and some fiction (I love love love horror), I’m a major Jack of all trades, just constantly looking for something new to try

How tall are you?: 5’6” baby!

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live?: anywhere warm and with a beach, I love summer and I’m built for it, I’ve considered New Orleans a lot for some reason, maybe California but I also hate west coast culture so um there’s that

Favorite color: yellow !! My and my siblings were color coded to prevent fights, and yellow was my color as a kid and it’s just stayed my favorite, and people always unanimously agree yellow is a color that Suits Me, saying i have yellow and sunshine energy, it also just best on me compared to other colors

Favorite book: this is such a hard choice, im going to say the perks of being a wallflower I think, ultimate comfort book really, but I also love to talk and think about Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison

Favorite movie?: it’s a horror movie called the empty man, it’s SO weird and SO fucked up with the most normal and sane horror protagonist

Favorite fic: I could never choose, one I’ve been thinking about A Lot is the origins of girldadism, but I also love meanest hunk of woman and enemy lines I’ll recommend them till the day I die

Favorite musical artist: I love love love Green Day i could talk abt them forever I’m going to see them in concert this summer and I’m SO freaking excited, honorable mentions are Noah kahan and old dominion

What is your average screen time so far this week?: 8 hours and 10 minutes. Higher than I was expecting considering all I’ve been doing is studying

What’s the first app you open in the morning: Spotify! I need music all the time ever, it helps me get going in the morning on weekdays, and on weekends either tumblr, discord, or Instagram depending on who’s texted me

How long have you been on tumblr: I think this summer will be 6 years?

finally (and i know this one is hard) tell me a fun fact about yourself: I’m learning my third language (Ukrainian) and planning a fourth (French, probably in college (I’m so done with Spanish bffr)) I also make my own recycled paper! I think that’s always fun to mention

I’m tagging:

@mickeym4ndy @astaraels @em-harlsnow @mickittotheman @transmickey

@transmurderbug

@atthedugouts @jademickian @liza420

And anyone else who wants to !! Ur welcome to do so !! And no pressure, you can otherwise consider this a friendly hello, fist bump, dap, and/or an “I’m thinking of you”

[quotidian-oblivion]

✨Out of context lines shitpost Pt. 8✨

Part 7

Quo: This is it... our last day of childcare course. And... *sighs* I'm getting choked up. I met @mispeltnostalgia and got to know her well through this course and she's been the best irl fanfic buddy and older brother despite being a year younger than me ever.

Nog: These out of context things have made me so happy and its fun to look back and remember the funny shit that we have said and done this year. this deffo won't be the last though. Quo and I will forever be saying and doing stupid shit. Quo is the best little sister ever and while I'll miss our fridays together she cant get rid of me. I know too many of her fanfics and she's beta-ing my works.

Quo: You beta-ed a couple of mine too!

We'll still be posting the out of context lines, but there are going to be longer gaps since we're not gonna meet on Fridays anymore :( There's still our weekly study sessions that we dubbed TEAS on Wednesday!

~

Tim: *holding a ball of wool to Jason’s face as a pretend mic* What do you say about the Curse you just found out you have Jason: *clears throat* I hope it kills me. ~ Jason: What do you have to say about your Curse? Tim: …I’ve had it since I was fucking born. ~ Barbara: So I bought a pack of quick oats because I love oats. And then I bought another pack of overnight oats because it had yoghurt, and now I’m just realizing that I really am just a horse. Little Shit Young!Jason: THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING. ~ Damian: I’ve been able to find a knife, I’ve been able to find a fork, but I can’t find a spoon. Jon: You have all the stabby objects in your bag Damian: I also have a fuckton of crochet hooks and— a pocket watch?? *pulls out pocket watch* Where the fuck is my spoon. ~ Steph: So I was getting pumped up for this song but then I just hear this tiny Alvin and the chipmunks voice say “Party Rock” and it just dashed my hopes. Listen to this *Plays Party Rock Anthem”. Damian: … Steph: Like, imagine getting pumped up for one of your childhood songs then you just suddenly hear “party rock” in this high-pitched voice and I felt like killing myself. Damian: … Steph: And hear me out— Damian: I don’t think i want to hear you out anymore. Steph: *Continues to play Bad Romance covered by the Alvin and the Chipmunks” ~ Tim: *Watching a video of Bruce* Bart: Wait, your dad sounds American. Bart: And he speaks kind of like you too! Tim: Yeah, I wonder why my American dad who raised me sounds and has the same speech patterns as me. Hmm, good question. Bart: I just wasn’t expecting it. I forgot that American dads were a thing. ~ Steph: i am granting you the honor of waffle ~ Barbara: *looking for a place to put popcorn. Places the popcorn against Dick’s lap* Dick: hell yeah crotch popcorn! Omg crotchcorn! Barbara: Please don't. ~ Bruce: You have to be very careful out there. These racist attacks are getting worse. Dick: Don't worry, Pops. I'm with a white person, I'll be fine. Barbara: *chokes on her drink with laughter* ~ Tim: *mixes soda water, energy drink and trace amounts of tea together in a tumbler* For funsies. *chugs it* ~ Jason: *falls to the floor, crumbles and silently screams in a public library* Barbara: Stop it, you’re embarrassing yourself Jason: I’m a drama kid, I can do whatever I want ~ Steph: *singing* I am not a quitter Tim: *singing with her* Pocket full of glitter Steph: Yarn balls, I’m a knitter!  Steph and Tim: *singing together* I’m the whole package, baby! Tim: I haven’t met you Steph: But if you’re staaable Tim and Steph: Then here’s my number! And call me Mabel! ~ Alfred: *grabs Bruce by the shoulders and shakes* BE PRODUCTIVE! ~  Steph: IS THAT A PURPLE BALLOON??? Steph: *walks over, picks it up, and carries it like a baby* *whispers* I’m pregnant ~  Damian, high on pain meds: *giggling while he draws Tim falling off a roof* whee whee, hee hee, I’m so funny. Hee hee hee. He’s falling off a building.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XVII

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: You have an argument with your father before going to meet Yuta.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.4k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: yuta reappearance yay!! enjoy the crumbs because he’s going to be gone until like shibuya now though

“Are you excited to visit Yuta?” Tullia said. She was sitting cross-legged on your bed, watching you pack, while Maki was frantically finishing the last of the summer homework that Kusakabe expected you all to turn in for the next class.

“Of course I am,” you said, folding a shirt and setting it in the small carry-on bag you were taking with you. You weren’t going for a long time, so you didn’t feel the need to bring an entire suitcase with you, but it was long enough that you’d definitely need a couple changes of clothes. “It’s been forever since I saw him last.”

“I’m jealous of you,” Maki said, her face reddening and cracks forming in the wood of her pencil from how hard she was gripping it. “Since you’ll be in Africa, you won’t have to worry about turning in this essay for Kusakabe!”

“Actually, I already turned it in,” you informed her. “As well as the rest of the work for the time that I’ll be missing. So the jealousy is unwarranted, because I’ve done more than you the past few days.”

“You’re such a nerd,” Maki said.

“Don’t blame me for your lack of planning,” you said. “Anyways, have you guys had the chance to meet the other first years yet?”

“Mm, nope!” Tullia said, apparently speaking for all them when she did so. “The higher ups have kept everyone busy, so it seems like we’re never at the school at the same time as them. Besides Fushiguro, we don’t know any of them.”

“The one boy, Itadori, is Sukuna’s vessel, and the other student is a girl, according to Gojo. That’s all I can tell you,” you said.

“Sukuna’s vessel,” Maki said. “I can’t believe we’re actually classmates with someone like that.”

“He’s a nice boy,” you said. “He didn’t seem to have ill intentions, so I don’t really mind it. Wasn’t it the same with Yuta? And see how he turned out. I think we’re past the point of judging people for whatever entities are attached to them.”

“Oh, I don’t disagree,” Maki said. “It’s just a little fantastical, is all. The King of Curses is our classmate — Tullia, for a frame of reference, it’s like if you went to school and suddenly you found out King George III would also be attending.”

“I know who Sukuna is,” Tullia said, giving her an incredulous look. “Since when are you informed on the American Revolution, though?”

“I did some light reading on it to make you feel more at home,” Maki said.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure Megumi’s the one that told her about that particular fact,” you said. Maki looked up from her essay to glare at you. You threw a sock at her in retaliation. “Don’t think she’s some kind of educated and well read woman. She still hasn’t finished her summer homework, so she’s definitely the opposite.”

“Okay,” Tullia said, sitting on her hands as a clear show of her neutrality in the argument. ���Whatever you say.”

“Which one of us?” Maki said.

“Both?” Tullia said.

“Wait, we’re saying opposite things, so you can’t exactly go and say you agree with the two of us, can you? That’s not how it works,” you said.

“Um…Y/N, please be sure to pick up some souvenirs for us from wherever in Africa you’ll be visiting!” Tullia said in a rush. It was an obvious tactic to change the subject, but you and Maki exchanged looks and decided to allow it.

“Do you want food or something else?” you said.

“They probably wouldn’t let you bring food, at least not anything that would be really cool for you to bring back. Even if they did, it wouldn’t taste as good anymore,” Maki said.

“Something else it is. If anything catches my eye, I’ll be sure to get it. Gojo and Yuta will both be there; one of them can foot the bill. With those two having special grade salaries, I’ll really be upset if they make me pay for anything!” you said.

“Yuta would probably insist on paying, even if you were the better off between you two,” Tullia said. “I don’t think he’s the kind of boyfriend that’d let you lift a finger or open your wallet around him.”

“Plus Gojo just about starts crying from joy every time he gets to spend money on you, so you likely don’t have to worry about a thing,” Maki added.

“Exactly. So I'll get you guys something nice for sure!” you said.

“Alright!” Tullia said.

“Make sure to get something for yourself, too,” Maki said with a frown. “You’re always thinking of the rest of us, but it’s okay to think of yourself every now and then.”

You waved her off. “I have enough people thinking about me. I don’t need to add to the count.”

“If you say so,” Maki said.

Just then, there was a knock on your door. You frowned, wondering who had any business coming and knocking on your door. The two people that could be reliably counted upon to visit you were already sitting in the room, and if it was Toge or Panda, they’d have texted before coming. Gojo would just barge in, and even if he did by some miracle decide to knock, it wouldn’t be such a polite sound.

“Um, who is it?” you called out, shoving your suitcase to the side and standing, crossing the room to open the door and then flinching at the man who stood before you.

“Y/N,” he said. You swallowed, bowing your head at him.

“Father,” you said. “It’s a long way from our home to the school. Why have you come without announcing your arrival? Is something the matter?”

“I wanted to meet you and that girl of yours. The empty glass,” he said, gesturing towards the room. “May I come in?”

“Yes,” you said, “You’re in luck. Tullia’s in here already. Maki is as well, but whatever you want to say to us, you can say in front of her, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Who was it — oh! Mr. L/N!” Tullia said, leaping from the bed and waving at your father. You briefly wondered how she knew it was him before remembering what Noritoshi had said about how she was making the L/N and Kamo clans pay for her college tuition, since they were so grateful to her for saving your life.

“Tullia,” he said. There was a slight measure of affection in his voice when he said her name, as if she were his daughter, not you. “It seems the L/Ns owe you a greater debt than we had first realized.”

“What?” she said. “I don’t know if I plan on going to grad school yet, but if I ever do, I’ll definitely contact you…though I don’t really know what you’re thankful for this time.”

“You’ve given that girl the power to heal as well as fight,” he said. “She so stubbornly insisted on fighting, but at least this way, our family’s legacy isn’t entirely lost with her.”

“That’s Y/N’s accomplishment, though,” Tullia said. “You should do something nice for her, for a change.”

Your father turned to look at you. You raised your chin at him, waiting for him to say something cruel, something demeaning — but he only nodded at you in acknowledgement.

“Yes, maybe that’s true,” he said. “Your mother asked about your health, by the way. Y/N. Should I tell her you’re well?”

“I doubt it matters to you whether I am or am not,” you said. Your father swallowed.

“Your mother asked,” he repeated. “You do not have to respond. I’ll tell her you’re the same as always.”

“Tell her Gojo misses her, too,” you dared to say. You knew your friendship with Gojo was one that aggravated the higher ups, and your father was no exception; Gojo was the one man who could protect you from their whims, the one person who you were unequivocally safe around. As long as you were with him, they could not punish you. They could not force you to be the dutiful little daughter that you had been for much of your life.

“Gojo is not someone who has any right to miss her,” your father said shortly.

“He loves her, too,” you said. “Probably more than you do. She cared for him when he was young, I’m told. Why shouldn’t he miss her?”

“Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t…” Tullia said, trailing off weakly. You knew it was different for her. You knew she still held some hope that she might be able to mend the relationship between her and her own parents, but it was not like that for you. You had long ago given up on your father. You had long ago realized what the nature of that relationship was.

The man who all but sold you off to the Kamos. The man who had refused to let you attend school. The man who had refused to heal Yuta. But he was also the man who had protected you from Naoya Zenin’s offers of marriage. He was also the man who had believed in you when you had to fight Todo. It had such a contrary nature, this relationship, but it was only after becoming friends with Maki did you realize that this was not how it was supposed to be.

People who loved one another were not contrary about it. You looked at Maki, sitting at your desk and pretending to write, and that gave you all of the strength that you needed.

“Father,” you said. “Was there a purpose to your visit, beyond just sending my mother’s regards and saying hello to Tullia? If that’s the case, then please hurry up and get on with it, because I am busy. Gojo and I are going on an overseas mission, so I need to finish packing.”

“Yes, that’s right. I heard the news,” he said.

“The news,” you repeated.

“That Sukuna has found a vessel, and that you were involved in saving him. You know the history our family has with that creature, don’t you? Please stay well away from him. It’s likely he resents your namesake for the role she played in his defeat,” he said.

“It’s not like I was planning on befriending Sukuna himself,” you said. “It’s like that, by the way. He does feel something strange about the entire situation; he was adamant that he could not kill me when we met the first time.”

“What?” your father said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Couldn’t kill you?”

“I’m as confused as you are, so don’t question me further. I don’t know why he’d say something like that,” you said.

“He must need you for something,” your father said. He was a practical man like that, always coming up with solutions and whatnot. “Think of what purpose a being like Sukuna could have for you, and you’ll have your answer.”

“I hardly know!” you said.

“Of course it won’t be that obvious!” he said, his temper flaring before he calmed it again. “It might take some time for you to understand what purpose you have for him, but I can assure you that whatever it is is most likely nefarious, so please don’t be fooled by his so-called kindness.”

“It wouldn’t describe it as kindness,” you said under your breath. “Was that all? Basic advice? I would’ve done all of that anyways, so it’s not like you’ve offered me anything profound by coming here. It could’ve just as easily been a text or email. A phone call, if you really missed the sound of my voice that much.”

“We’ve never discussed it in person, so I came to beg you, one last time, to give up fighting,” he said.

“Why? I can even heal, now that I’ve made that contract with Tullia and figured out how to manipulate it to our advantage. What point would there be in giving up fighting now?” you said.

“Sukuna has been reincarnated. Now that he’s found a vessel, and given what the higher ups plan on using him for, the level of curses that will appear from now on will be far beyond anything you can imagine, beyond anything any of us can imagine,” he said.

“All the more reason for me to fight,” you said. “I don’t know if you understand what it means for me to be a Grade 1 sorcerer — it means I’m strong. It means I’m one of the strongest sorcerers in active duty, only officially outclassed by three people: Gojo, Yuta, and Yuki Tsukumo. If the curses really will get that much stronger, then doesn’t it make sense for me to continue to fight? They need all the fighters they can get —”

“Do you think that you are special?” your father said, cutting you off. “You are not Satoru Gojo. You are not Yuta Okkotsu. You are not Yuki Tsukumo. I will not deny that you are a gifted fighter, leagues above most of your colleagues, but you are not a special grade sorcerer. There can be people to replace you. Noritoshi Kamo, Aoi Todo, Megumi Fushiguro, Toge Inumaki…all of these people will one day stand where you stand.”

“And all of them are men,” you noted. “Isn’t that interesting?”

“This isn’t about that,” he said. “I’m a man, and you don’t see me fighting, do you? Because I understand my strengths — something which you stubbornly refuse to do! Y/N, I didn’t come to belittle you, believe it or not. This is actually praise!”

“Praise!” you repeated with a laugh. There was a rustling of bedsheets as Tullia got up and went to stand by Maki, who by now had returned to her essay. Their attempt at giving you privacy. “What praise comes from you insulting my choice in occupation?”

“Y/N!” your father said. He said your name as if you were his existence’s biggest problem. You wished that he’d say it in a kinder way. “You brought someone back to life. Why can you not understand what that means? You are meant to be a healer! What you did for Yuta Okkotsu has only been done once before in all of history. It’s the kind of thing that myths are written about. You are not a healer but the healer, and yet you reject your fate!”

“I understand what you are saying,” you said.

“You do?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “If you compare healers to fighters, then I’d be Gojo himself. A figure without precedent. The kind of person that changes the world just by existing. But I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to change the world just by existing. I want to do something with myself! Healing kills me, father. I die every time I use the Reverse Cursed Technique. It is only through fighting that I may feel alive! I can’t go back to being who I once was. Do you understand that?”

“I do,” he said. “Because it was the same for me. And it was the same for my father before that, and for every other L/N that has possessed Dissection and Composition. All of us want to fight. How do you think it feels, seeing all of the people that come to us and knowing we can never stand by their sides? We are trapped by the constraints of who we are. We are L/Ns, and L/Ns don’t fight. We heal. That is how we contribute to society. That is how we have made a name for ourselves. That is what we are meant to do. Our very bodies are designed for it. Why do you insist on escaping that?”

“Then give me a new name,” you said. “Clearly, I am no L/N.”

He scoffed. “You don’t mean that. You are the example of a L/N. You cannot get away from that.”

“What if I go to Africa?” you said. “Will my name follow me there, too?”

“It will follow you no matter where you go,” he said. “Stop denying it. Give in to who you are meant to be.”

“Father, I can’t be who you want me to be. It’s not who I am. Won’t you accept that?” you said.

He gave you a measured look before nodding and turning away, striding towards the door and then pausing before shutting it behind him.

“I do accept it,” he said. “But I hope you fully realize what it means.”

The door shut before you could fire back a response. You settled for swearing at the wood paneling, stomping over and locking the handle before flopping back on your bed. Your motivation to pack had suddenly vanished entirely.

“Sorry you guys had to hear that,” you said. Maki and Tullia turned to me with fake smiles on their faces.

“Hear what? We didn’t hear anything,” Maki said.

“Yes, that’s right! We were so busy working on that essay,” Tullia said.

“You guys don’t have to lie. It’s fine. That’s how it’s always been. My father and I don’t get along, obviously. He’s always wanted me to be something that I’m not. Before, it was because I had no aptitude that I disappointed him so greatly, that I could not fulfill my destiny as another healer of the L/N clan. Now, it’s because I have so much aptitude that I frustrate him to this extent. It doesn’t matter what I do. It’ll never be what he wants,” you said.

“It’s fine,” Maki said. “I get it. You all know exactly what expectations my family had for me. Obviously I didn’t abide by those, so I understand what it’s like completely. You won’t find any judgment from me.”

Tullia let out a soft breath. “I don’t really know what my parents want from me anymore. I thought I might figure it out one day, but I don’t think I can. I don’t think that anything I can do will make them proud of me. So I get it, too.”

The three of you had all disappointed your families in some way or another. You, who refused to follow the path set out for you. Maki, who wasn’t even capable of following that path. And Tullia, who did not know what the path was in the first place. Things were different for people like you. People who had to fight in order to prove their worth instead of being given respect automatically. It was something that none of your peers would ever understand — because at least they had been given the grace of being born male. You all didn’t even get that much.

“Have a safe flight!” Maki said as she put your bag in the back of Ijichi’s car, alongside Gojo’s. “Tell Yuta we all said hi.”

This was said in a whisper; no one else knew that you and Gojo were going to check in on Yuta. The official reason was that he was going on a mission overseas, and you were accompanying Gojo as a part of your training. Although Kusakabe was your teacher now, you were technically ranked the same as him, so the higher ups had allowed for Gojo to continue to work as your instructor when situations arose that necessitated it.

“I will,” you said. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“See you soon, Y/N! Just text me if you need to heal anyone,” Tullia said.

“There’ll be a time difference. What if you’re asleep?” you said.

“If you need me, I’ll wake up,” she said. “Pinky swear.”

You smiled at her, wrapping her in a hug, feeling the way your hearts beat in tandem. Tullia, who had given you half of yourself back; who would you be without her? She had saved your life. She had given you everything so that you could be happy, so that you could continue to fight. And here she was, continuing to sacrifice for your sake.

“Remind me to do something good for you once things settle down,” you said.

“I’ll get a PhD,” she said. “You can pay for that one.”

“Alright,” you said with a laugh. “Alright, Tullia. I’ll do that.”

The flight was not as long as you had imagined. You slept for most of it, Gojo turning off his Infinity so that you could use his shoulder as a pillow. He explained that flying got him too wired to rest, but he was glad that it was not like that for you. You were just glad that his shoulders were broad enough that you could comfortably rest against them until he shook you awake for the landing.

“Yuta doesn’t know you’re coming, by the way,” Gojo informed you.

“Why not?” you said.

“I thought it would be fun to surprise him!” Gojo said. You were about to argue, but then you decided that he was kind of right. You hadn’t mentioned your visit to Yuta, since you assumed Gojo had told him already, but you were suddenly glad you hadn’t, if only because imagining the look on his face when he finally saw you was incredibly satisfying.

“Okay,” you said.

“That’s it? I thought for sure you’d be annoyed,” Gojo said.

“I considered it, but to be honest, you were kind of right this time,” you said.

“Alright!” Gojo said, pumping his fist in the air. “I’ll let you guys have your reunion while I catch up with Miguel, so be sure to report all of the details of how it goes, okay?”

“Maybe not all of them,” you said. “But sure, I’ll tell you what most of it is like.”

“Good enough! Now go have fun,” Gojo said. “Have him take you around the city. You guys deserve some time off.”

“Isn’t it Miguel’s decision if Yuta gets time off?” you said. Gojo waved you off dismissively.

“I’ll convince him, so don’t worry about a thing! Seriously, you deserve to spend some time just relaxing with him. It’s a chance that you won’t get very often in your life, so take advantage of it,” he said.

“You’re right. Thank you, Gojo,” you said.

“Yeah, yeah. Anytime,” he said. “Now go.”

As the two of you rounded the corner, you saw him. He looked different now, but also the same: he was taller, his face narrower and his shoulders wider, a wrapped katana strapped across his back. His hair had grown longer, too, neatly parted now instead of falling in his face haphazardly. But his eyes were the same, though they had not landed upon you yet, still the exact shade of poison blue that you had grown to admire so dearly in the time that you had known him.

Seeing him again was like a great burden being knocked off your shoulders. It was as if you had not been able to fully breathe, and now you were inhaling great lungfuls of air to make up for the lack. To your surprise, something hot scalded your cheeks the longer you stared at him, and you realized you were actually crying.

“Yuta,” you whispered, taking one step and then finding that you were unable to contain yourself. Breaking into a run, you sprinted towards him, wanting for the distance to grow smaller in as quick of a time as possible. “Yuta!”

He turned as if he could not quite believe what he was hearing. You saw his forehead scrunch into an endearing expression as he mouthed something that you were certain was your name. When his eyes landed on you, they lit up, his entire countenance transforming from the gloomy man that scared off passersby to one who was so delighted he was all but glowing from it.

“Y/N!” he shouted, opening his arms. Without hesitation, you threw your bag to the side and flung yourself into them, wrapping your own around his torso and clenching the white fabric of his jacket in your fists.

He held you so tightly that you might’ve shattered if you were a lesser being. In fact, he held you like you had already shattered and he was the only thing that could keep you together, and maybe that really was the truth. For a while, you two stayed like that, clinging to one another in the middle of the airport, and then he finally let go, grabbing your face — however, this was gently done, softly, though the calluses of his fingers were rough against your cheeks and jaw.

“Are you really here?” he said.

“Yes,” you said, still a little in awe at all, too. “I’m really here.”

“Thank goodness. I’ve missed you more than I could bear,” he said.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you said. “So much.”

“You know,” he murmured. “Here in Africa, the higher ups don’t have any power.”

“Is that so?” you said.

“Mhm. They don’t have eyes everywhere, the way they do back home,” he said. “In fact, they don’t have eyes anywhere.”

“Convenient,” you said.

“You think?” he said.

“Yes. I’d rather not delay doing this, after all,” you said. With that, you allowed your hands to tangle in his hair, tugging on it, pulling him to your mouth so that he could fit his own against it. You stayed there for you didn’t know how long, savoring the taste of being reunited, relearning how each other worked, what had changed and what hadn’t in the time that had passed since you had met last.

It was when you pulled apart, each gasping for breath, that you had the sudden, horrible sense that you were being watched. Spinning around and ignoring the sound of surprise Yuta made, you glared at the two men very conspicuously trying to not look at you.

“Gojo!” you shouted, jabbing your finger at him. “Stop doing that! It’s so weird that you always show up at these moments!”

“Don’t blame this on me! I tried to tell Miguel to leave you guys alone, but he insisted we get a move on to his village before anyone got wind of us being associated with him!” Gojo said, holding his hands in the air as if to proclaim innocence.

“Sorry,” Miguel said, clearing his throat, obviously embarrassed. “I did not realize that you and my student were so, ah…close.”

“Well!” you said. “To be honest, that’s probably how a normal teacher-student relationship should be like. Gojo is just a meddling idiot who doesn’t understand that!”

“Your mother was my babysitter,” Gojo said. “I think we crossed the line of ‘normal teacher-student relationship’ several years ago!”

“You guys haven’t changed a bit,” Yuta said, holding your bag in one hand and using his other interlock his fingers with your own. “Miguel, sir, with your permission, can I take the day to show Y/N around the village once we return?”

Miguel distinctly avoided eye contact with both of you when he responded. “Go ahead, kid. I doubt you’ll get much training done while she’s here, anyways, so you might as well make the most of it.”

Gojo gave you a discreet thumbs up while Yuta and Miguel were distracted. You took the opportunity to flip him off before returning your attention to Yuta, leaning against his arm as you walked towards Miguel’s car.

“How have things been back home?” he said.

“Ugh. The same but also different,” you said. He frowned.

“Are the higher ups giving you trouble again?” he said.

“When are they not?” you said rhetorically. “My father came to see me. He thinks I should give up fighting.”

“Still? I thought you made it clear that you didn’t want to do that,” he said.

“Oh, right,” you realized. “You haven’t heard what’s been going on yet.”

You quickly summed up the most important events that had occurred since Yuta had left: this discovery of the contract you and Tullia had formed, Itadori manifesting as Sukuna’s vessel, Sukuna’s cryptic words about how he could not kill you. With every word you spoke, the crease between his brows deepened, until you finished and he was just about fully scowling.

“Of all the times to send me out of the country, it had to be right before all of this happened,” he said. “Why would you ask Itadori to let Sukuna out? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“Like I said, I knew Gojo was on his way, and in the meantime, if it came down to it, I had Megumi there to help me,” you said. This obviously did nothing to alleviate his concerns; if anything, it worsened them, as he gave you a look.

“Megumi is only a first year,” he said. “He’s nowhere near ready to fight Sukuna, even if he only has one finger’s worth of power.”

“You were only a first year, and already doing so much,” you said, poking him in the side as a reminder. He rolled his eyes.

“Yes, but Megumi isn’t me,” he said.

“He definitely isn’t,” you said. “That’s not a question. It’s why I got involved in the first place; without my intervention, there’s no telling what might’ve happened. He wasn’t meant to fight Sukuna; he was there to aid me, if things came to it, until Gojo could arrive. But things didn’t come to it, and I could’ve handled the situation completely easily, even if Sukuna didn’t have that weird aversion to fighting me.”

“I didn’t doubt that,” he said.

“Are you sure?” you said.

“It’s Megumi I was doubting!” he said hotly. “Not you. I was just worried about you. After all, everyone knows about Gojo’s track record of only showing up once all the action’s over.”

“That’s true,” you allowed. “You’ll not believe it, but that’s what happened that night, too…”

Yuta snorted. “No surprise.”

“Anyways, everything worked out fine. I didn’t get hurt, Megumi didn’t have to fight Sukuna, and Itadori proved his worth as a vessel. Overall, it was a success,” you said.

“They’re not going to execute Itadori?” Yuta said.

“They tried. Megumi didn’t want it to happen like that, so he asked Gojo to stop it. I showed my support,” you said.

“Why?” he said. “You of all people would know how dangerous Sukuna is.”

“Of course, but the situation reminded me too much of yours. If the higher ups had executed you that night, I don’t know what I would’ve done,” you said, grasping him tighter at just the thought. What would your life be like if you had lost Yuta that night? If you had never known him in the first place, if he had never been yours to lose at all? Where would you even be now? Still a disappointment, probably, but of a different sort.

He exhaled through his nose. “You’re right.”

“He’s a very kind person. Sukuna’s vessel, I mean; he’s genuinely very sweet. It’s odd to think that such a terrible creature lives inside of him,” you said.

“It seems like you’ve been making a lot of friends,” he noted. “With Megumi and Itadori and all.”

“I guess so, but I still spend most of my time with Maki and Tullia,” you said. “Those two are just my underclassmen, so I have to look out for them as best I can. It’s kind of like how Gojo is with us, except unlike Gojo, I’m not a little creep about it.”

“He is so odd,” Yuta agreed. “No wonder he’s still single.”

“Very true,” you said. “But enough talking about this kind of thing. We have souvenirs to buy!”

“Souvenirs?” he said. You nodded.

“Yes, Maki and Tullia asked for some, so I promised to bring stuff back for them,” you said. “Where are the best shops around here?”

“I’ll take you,” Yuta said fondly. “We have to make the best of this trip, right? I’m not about to let you go shopping by yourself.”

“Uh, I wasn’t planning on going by myself. In an unfortunate turn of events, I seem to have forgotten my purse at home,” you said.

“What a shocking plot twist, indeed,” Yuta said dryly. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have let you use it, so it’s not that unfortunate.”

“I love you,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

He still refused to say it back. He still couldn’t say it back, still had that thought in his mind that it would kill you or curse you or something if he did, but you didn’t mind. You understood his reasoning, even if you found it a little superstitious, and you understood that it didn’t mean anything in the long run, didn’t mean he cared for you any less.

And when he squeezed your hand in a secret, quiet response, undercutting his seemingly callous words, you understood that, too.

[rorywritesalot]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived.

Prologue: Welcome to Pandora

Warnings: cursing

Ensley's POV

When you’re 20 years old, you’re usually in college, or moving out of your parents house or whatever. Not me! No, I’m on a different planet to learn more about the wildlife and the natives. I like to think that I’m pretty lucky. I get to do what I love and be mentored by the best of the best, Dr. Grace Augustine. I arrived on Pandora just after I turned 18. I’m the first of the Sully siblings to be here. My brother Tom is supposed to join me here soon. I haven’t seen my family in two long years. I miss my parents and above all, I miss my big brothers. They are only a little over a year older than me. Our parents loved to say that I was a perfect mix of both Jake and Tom. I had the wit and humor of Jake and the smarts and curiosity of Tom. Jake and I were the troublemaking duo. We would taunt the kids of the neighborhood and play pranks on our family. Tom was the brother I could seek out for guidance. He and I could sit and talk about theories forever. It was him who got me extremely interested in the Avatar Program and I studied as hard as I could in order to be considered for the program. Growing up, they were the perfect brothers. They still are. 

When I started my process to get my own avatar, there were some complications with my DNA and it was denied. So I do not have an avatar. My brother Tom does, and he’s here waiting for Tom’s arrival. I work directly under Grace kind of as her right hand. I will be honest, I thought Grace hated me when I first showed up here. She probably did because I was so young and she “didn’t want to be a babysitter”, and I quote. Once she realized what I could do, she started to come around. Since my arrival, Grace has taught me so much and helped me grow as a scientist. She has taken me under her wing and has very much become like a mother figure to me. 

Above all, working with Grace has its perks, but it definitely has its downside. One of those is being her runner. Grace will send me on coffee runs at random hours of the day. She also likes to have me run errands for her too. I get tasked with taking files to Selfridge or sitting in on the boring meetings that she refuses to go to. I didn’t mind running her errands in the end because that was how I met him.

I’ve only ever heard of Colonel Miles Quaritch, I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting the well known Head of Security, until now. The first thing I noticed about the man, other than his piercing blue eyes, was the trio of scars on the right side of his head. If the story is true, he was attacked one his very first day on Pandora by a viperwolf, because he decided it was a good idea to go check out the forest. What an idiot. 

On a trip to one of the breakrooms to get Grace her coffee, I space out. My mind is running rampant, thinking of all the things I have to get done that day. In the middle of running down my mental to-do list, I fail to pay attention to how I turn a corner and run right into a muscular chest and take a tumble to the floor, landing flat on my ass.

“Geez, you need to watch where you’re going cupcake. You okay?” The man says as he reaches down for my hand and hoists me up to my feet. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I guess I was just really out of it.” I say, visibly embarrassed. He lets out a soft laugh.

“It’s fine. Hey, I can’t say I’ve ever met you before. What’s your name?” He flashes his little smirk at me. This man is so devilishly handsome and I think he knows it. With his tan and defined arms, his silver hair and those damn blue eyes. He knows he’s attractive.

“Um, ha, I’m Ensley, Dr. Ensley Sully. I’m a botanist.” I put my hand out for him. He takes it.

“Ah you’re one of those science pukes ain’tcha?” He says, his smirk replaced with a neutral expression. I can’t tell if he now has a sudden distaste for me or something. Since I've been here, I’ve quickly come to understand that the soldier and scientist have never fully seen eye to eye. All because of their different views and since the important people in RDA favor soldiers over scientists. 

“Yeah I am," I say, going into defense mode. "I don’t believe I know your name either.”

“Oh yes, I’m Colonel Quaritch. You might know me as the head of security.” Why, he’s very modest isn’t he. I mentally roll my eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” I say and he chuckles. He locks his eyes with my brown ones and he looks almost as if he’s analyzing my face. I feel my confidence cracking under his gaze. Part of me wants to run and hide and another part of me wants to fall to the floor and cry. But I don’t. I stand there until I feel like I’m done with the situation.

“I should probably get going. My boss is probably wondering where I am.” I say as I step around him. He turns his body to keep me in sight. 

“Yes, don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Mhmm, it was nice meeting you.” I say as I turn and continue my trip to the breakroom for Grace’s coffee. As I walk away, I have the feeling that eyes are on me. As I round the corner to the breakroom, I glance back and see the colonel still looking at me. I hesitantly stop and gaze back at him. I softly smile and wave my fingers at him. He subtly nobs and turns to continue to where he was going. 

I turn on the coffee machine so I can make Grace’s drink as well as making a cup of tea for myself. I’m not a big fan of coffee. I hate the bitterness of it as well as the after taste. So I don’t drink caffeine or anything, I just run off of sheer willpower. 

As I’m doing what I’m doing, I think back to the encounter I just had with the colonel. Everyone made him out to be so mean and cold. He didn’t seem that way with me. Maybe everyone only ever met him as the colonel and I just got to meet him as just him. 

I finish making the drinks and I make my way back to the lab. Upon my arrival, I look around to find Grace. I find her hunched over a microscope. I set her mug down by the scope and she shoots her eyes to look at me.

“Jesus E, what took you so goddamn long.” She says, visibly irritated that she had to wait longer for her precious coffee. She takes a sip and looks back at me signaling that she wants to know what happened to me.

“I just ran into someone and I got to talking to them. It's not that big of a deal.” I say turning my back to her and heading to my desk.

“Who did you run into?”

“Fuck Grace, why do you care?”

“I want to know.”

“If I tell you, will you stop pestering me?” I grumble. She nods her head.

“I ran into Quaritch.” I say and Grace's face slightly drops.

“Oh, are you okay? He didn’t give you any shit did he?” She asks and I shake my head. She seems relieved. She and Quaritch have always had it out for each other and couldn’t be in the same room as each other without wanting to bite the other's head off. So I understand why she doesn't want him to give me or any of her scientists shit or anything.

“Okay well, let's get back to work. There are some Mist Blooms I want you to analyze and make some reports about. Okay?” Grace motions to the pile of papers and files sitting on my desk. I take a seat, sip my tea and dive back into my work.

Note: This is my first ever fanfic and I'm so happy to share this with you. Most of my titles are going to be based off Taylor Swift title tracks. So if there are any swifts here, I hope you enjoy that. Chapter 1 will be out soon!

[shrekgogurt]

WORDS

This is a sappy creative talking about being creative post. You have been warned. I did not proofread because I am nothing if not consistent in my personality.

I just got done watching Season 2 episodes 3&4 of the FX’s The Bear and I’m constantly inspired by their storytelling. The two episodes I watched really leaned into the creative process in a way that made me very reflective. I am terrible in a kitchen. However, I really saw similar patterns in my own pursuits.

I have a dear friend who studied brains in university and when I was at my lowest a few months ago she was telling me about how life is just skills. Things like IQ are bullshit. Everybody can do anything if they put the time in. It’s about just choosing skills and developing them. I get mad that I can’t draw. I get mad that I can’t play guitar well. Those are skills I’ve never worked on because the process doesn’t bring me joy, even though they are skills I wished I had. Meanwhile things like science or sports are areas I’ve never had much interest in cultivating anyway so the lack of skill doesn’t bother me as much.

I think about my skillset now a lot more. I think about how learning piano—while I’m frustrated by my lack of expertise—doesn’t make me literally cry while I’m learning. I embrace the challenge unlike something like drawing where I get so upset with myself it’s not fun anymore. This past fall while my confidence was totally shot (for a lot of reasons) I looked at my ability to sit at a keyboard and just play the same riffs from Kate Bush’s Wuthering Heights over and over and over and over until I could do them. I learned I could do hard things. That maybe I’m not a total lazy piece of shit who gives up at the first sign of trouble.

And the beautiful thing is? That wasn’t always the case with piano. I’ve dabbled here and there throughout my life but when I first took piano lessons as a kid I HATED them. I didn’t enjoy putting in the work. But I do now because people change. And so maybe one day I will learn to draw but not right now. And that’s okay.

And then I start thinking about singing. There’s this sentiment that people are just naturally gifted, especially at singing. But at least for me that’s not the case. I’m good at singing because as a kid I loved it. I gravitated toward it. I sung all the time to the radio, mimicking the voices I heard. And I listened to SO MUCH music—partially because of my parents but also because I chose to always have the radio or a CD or my trusty mp3 player going. When I was playing with my dolls. When I was riding my bike. When I was in the shower. When I was at dance class. When I was dragged along to my siblings' sports games, I would build worlds while tuned into the nearest iHeartRadio station. (Airplanes feat. Hayley Williams. I loved it. I loved the storytelling. Pt. 1 but oh when the oh so rare Pt. 2 came through over the FM waves it was the best day of my life.)

Eventually, my parents put me into voice lessons. I learned how to sing rather than mimic. (Not that the latter is bad.) But I learned how to use it as an instrument. And I sang and I sang and I sang. In lessons. In choir. In church. That’s why I’m good at singing. It took me forever to learn how to harmonize. I was a soprano—it was always melody. But I’m learning that too as my voice changes. I can’t sing as high as I used to. I haven’t practiced notes off the staff since high school. Life is just skills. I was focusing on different ones. Like film (but we’ll get to that.)

There was something else always there. I don’t know how many people knew it—the extent. You had to live with me to see it…but I loved nothing more than I loved reading. 

I always had my nose in a book. Like a lot of kids who consumed books non-stop it was definitely escapism. But I read and I read and I read. The classic question in my family was “where is Mary?” And the answer was always “in her room.” And if I wasn’t reading a story I was creating one. With my dolls yes, but eventually with my tiny little acer computer and with my thumbs in the notes app on my iPod Touch. (I still maintain that the notes app is where the best art happens.)

It was May in my eighth grade pre-Algebra class when my friend told me what FanFiction was and about how she had an account on good ole fanfiction.net. I made one too. I joined a Divergent roleplaying forum that lasted two months. I started writing a long-abandoned backstory for my character—Antoine, named at intermission of the high school production of West Side Story I was watching. It was bad. But I didn’t know it at the time. I thought I was doing something important and I guess I was.

The Divergent forum didn’t last long but a few months later I would create my own. Welcome to Camp Half Blood! Join in! Make an OC! I brought my friends over from the old forum and even as Admin my authority was immediately usurped. We built worlds. And then we rebuilt them. And then our worlds had baby worlds. Generation 1, Gen 1.5 (you suggest a teen pregnancy plot line as a joke one time while on a choir trip in Yorkshire ONE TIME and then you wake up and uh oh two characters are actually teen pregnant), Gen 2, on and on and on. There’s a whole Google Sheets document. It’s deeply comprehensive and filled with all our faceclaims and timelines and playlists.

We rarely wrote action in our roleplay. We mainly talked. Dialogue and dialogue and dialogue for years. I get compliments now on my dialogue in fics. It didn’t come from nowhere. It came from cringe-y exchanges with my friends as we fell in love with each other’s self inserts over and over and over again. I stayed up on school nights until 2am quietly wheezing only to fall asleep in Algebra 1 over my scribbled cursive poetry on the graph paper. Life is skills. I was choosing which ones to build.

It was never math.

It was stories.

In the singing. In the dance (competition team—burned me out. I was never the best athlete. I was always the most expressive. I was telling the story.) In the theatre. And in the little fan videos I would make with my friends for our OCs over on fanfiction.net.

So my dumbass went to film school. And like with singing I learned about stories. How to craft them. And I wrote bad scripts. And we made bad low budget films. And I was so scared of cameras but I learned how to use them. And I directed and I got good at that especially with documentaries. Looking at all the information and chasing down the story. Telling people who were faster editors than me where to cut. Telling people who could make the camera capture what I saw in my eye what to film. God I fucking loved it. And I miss it.

Because my dumbass went to seminary. Why? Because there were these ancient stories that were really important to me that were being used to harm others. And I wanted to learn them. And I wanted to be able to show that there was a different way than the one that spews hatred. And as Phoebe Bridgers sings I “went looking for a creation myth ended up with a pair of cracked lips.” And I’m figuring all that out still. What to do with these stories that mean so much to me. How to tell them. How to Robin Hood theology.

And as my life and my faith were falling apart. I looked at my tiny little shithole apartment. And how I used to hide in my room where I felt safe. And I made that apartment feel safe. It was my room now. And I walked out to my bookshelf and I saw a book I had bought and opened it up. And on the inside of the cover there was a map just like there was in all the best books from my childhood. So I stayed up until 3am reading it. And then the next night. And the next night. And then I bought the sequel and I read about a boy who thought he was going to be something and then he wasn’t that anymore. And he was lost and angry and self-destructive just like me. But then in the last part of the trilogy he decided at the last second to try to figure it all out. And I’m still trying to do that too.

I had been writing all along—non-fiction. Papers. Essays. (Metas—really.) And I learned how to approach a text. How to analyze it in one million different ways. And I think I took those skills I learned from the Bible and I stuck them on some YA trilogy. And I thought and I thought and I had something to say.

And I wrote. And I keep getting better. Because life is just skills.

So I was watching The Bear and Will Poulter as a baker talks about how he used to see some other baker as competition. Until he decided he wasn’t and instead he just tried to keep up. And I want to keep up. And I watch these television shows and I read your fics and I get so fucking inspired. 

And I look at this stupid fucking soccer fic I love with my whole chest and I think about how life is just skills and they all have led me to be able to write it. And I know that in ten years when I’m 34 I’ll probably think it’s cringey just like I think that what I wrote when I was 14 is cringey. But GOD I’m so proud of it. And I think I always will be.

Because life is just skills and I’m really glad I chose these ones.

TL;DR I’ve never been the best “athlete” (had the best skills in a particular medium) but goddamn if I’m not a good fucking storyteller.

[lukeevangelista]

Please do “i wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard.” with Nathan Mack ? Thanks

Please Take Care of Yourself - N. MacKinnon

*gif not mine*

comforting Nate ugh, I love it

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

Nate watched you from the doorway, you not noticing he had even arrived home. He watched as you tapped the pencil against the text book before bringing it to your mouth, slightly chewing on it before letting out a groan of frustration.

"I'm so fucking over this." You whispered to yourself, Nate catching every word you said. 

He knew you were stressing yourself out to know end over these finals. You were working towards your Masters degree and Nathan was nothing but proud of you, but he also saw changes in you daily because this was taking over your life. 

You weren’t as bright and bubbly as you used to be, your smile no longer met your eyes, and your laugh- he felt like he hadn’t heard it in weeks. Matter of fact, he knew he hadn't. 

The more he thought about the things he had been missing, the more mad he got at himself. 

He should have been here, but he couldn’t help it. He had to work; he didn’t have a choice. 

But he also knew you were an adult and you could control yourself, but times like now, you knew you needed to be prioritizing school over everything, even if that included neglecting yourself.

Nate felt terrible. He knew you had been neglecting everything, including him. He had been away for what felt like forever, but in reality, it had only been two weeks. It was a longer road trip, which was unusual, and it just so happened to be scheduled during finals for you. 

He knew the moment your phone calls had became shorter and shorter then almost nothing- he became concerned. You always took the chance to talk to him when he was on the road, rarely ever dodging his phone calls. 

The normal situation was out the window when Nate had gotten the schedule for the season, seeing that road trip specifically right around the time he knew you would need him most.

You were lucky in the past few years to have Nate home during finals to make sure you ate, took breaks, hell, he even made sure you were sleeping; because if he didn’t, you would be up all hours of the night, cramming study packets in and praying you didn’t forget anything you had read. 

His eyes scanned your body, examining you; you looked skinnier then the last time he had seen you. The bags under your eyes showed that you hadn’t been sleeping properly. The way you squinted your eyes showed you had been looking at your computer for far too long.

You ran your hands through your hair, tugging as a small sob left your lips- the pressure finally causing you to crack. You hadn’t noticed Nate standing in the doorway yet. 

“I’m so fucking done.” You sobbed, “I don’t care if I fail. Fuck this.” You hissed as you slammed your computer shut, the tears falling down your cheeks as you closed your books. 

“Oh baby.” Nate finally made his presence known as he walked towards you before wrapping his arms around you.

“I’m a failure.” You sobbed in his arms as you felt him lean you both against the headboard, “I can’t fucking remember anything I’ve read in the last two days.”

“It’s because you’re pushing yourself so hard babe.” Nate said as he ran his hand up and down your arm, “You can’t put your body through this and expect a good outcome.” He continued, “You’re not taking care of yourself. I wish you wouldn’t work yourself so hard. It’s not good for your mental health and it’s not good for you physically.”

You nodded, not giving a verbal response. If you talked, you were going to start crying again and you didn’t want Nate to have to deal with more than this since he had just gotten home. You knew he was tired from this trip, it taking more out of the boys to win games since Cale had gotten injured. 

“I'm sorry.” You whispered once you finally thought you were able to talk without crying, “I just can’t fail this.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He said as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “and you won’t. You’ve gotta have more faith in yourself babe.”

“I disappointed you.”

“Don’t you dare ever say that again.” He said, a new tone to his voice as he adjusted you to look at him, “You could never disappoint me.” 

“I-”

“No.” he said as he tightened his grip around you, “Get those thoughts out of your head. You’re not even close to a disappointment,” he said, “Honestly, you’re the best thing in my life.” 

“Even better than your ring?”

“Eh, you’re a close second.” He joked causing you to laugh, “There’s that laugh I love.” he whispered as he moved a piece of hair that fell in front of your eyes, “Of course you’re better than some silly ring.”

[heejayy]

Shuri U. || Grieving

Warning • mentions death

Genre • angst

Pairing • Shuri x Black Fem! Reader

A/n: Wakanda forever spoilers

She’s doing it again you thought to yourself. She’s burying her feelings and hiding away in her lab. Your love Shuri has been doing so well the past year since her mothers death she’s had her slip ups but never this bad.

“She hasn’t spoken a full sentence to me in a week and I’m getting worried” you told Okoye as she walked with you through the garden.

“Talk to her” she advised giving you a sympathetic look.

“Okoye I’ve tried she just pushes me away-“

“No you’re too soft be firm, don’t back down this time” you sighed nodding your head “ok I’ll give it a try.”

It was currently 3:30 AM and Shuri just came back from her lab. Her shoulders were slumped, dark eye bags, and she's been in the same outifit for three days. You studied her some more not knowing how to approach this but you had to get it done.

“Shuri can we talk?” You asked timidly while cautiously following her around the room.

“Not now y/n I-“

“No your are going to speak to me now” You spokw a little louder than you intended to “I have been worried sick about you, I haven’t seen you this bad off since after the war with Namor. You haven’t been eating, you barley talk and your therapist said you missed three sessions. I’m just worried about you sweetie that’s all” you reached out to touch her shoulder but she flinched away.

“I don’t need your sympathy or your help grieving leave me be!” She yelled as her voice cracked. Shuri hated feeling weak but right now she couldn’t help it. You watched her as her bottom lip began to tremble and tears slowing glide down her cheeks. You sighed pulling her in for a hug, her body went limp into your as you guided both of your bodies to the floor.

You held her close as she let out the most heart wrenching sobs.

“I miss them so much, it feels like my heart has been ripped out. It j-just hurts” she confessed as she gripped your shirt.

“It’s gonna be ok baby, I know you’re hurting but you don’t have to hurt alone. I’m here for you.” You let her cry into your chest for what seemed like forever. You also cried a bit holding her close, it almost felt like you could really feel her pain. You just wish you could take it away.

“I don’t deserve you, I’m so sorry f-for the way I treated you please don’t leave me, I never meant to hurt you” you nodded “I know baby, I know. Don’t worry about it I’m not upset.”

You two cried in silence for what seemed like forever and ended up falling asleep on the floor holding each other. You woke up and looked down to see Shuri asleep on your chest. You smiled at how peaceful she finally looks.

“I’m not going anywhere my love” you whispered kissing her forehead. Almost as if she heard you in her sleep she snuggled closer with a small smile on her face.

Shuri Masterlist

©heejayy 2023 — any reposts or translations of my works outside of tumblr are strictly prohibited unless granted permission 🤍

[faofinn]

Day 19 - Emergency Room

@mediwhumpmay

Fao loved being at home with his family. Christmas was his favourite time of year, too. He supposed that was not having much of a childhood, but he was still like a kid in the buildup, enjoying watching the lights and decorations going up. He loved the cold, too, the frosty mornings as they got closer to the end of December. 

In his final year at uni now, he was so close to qualifying he could almost taste it. That came with its own stress, trying to sort out dates for Sandhurst and planning his career. Not to mention having to deal with all the exams, the pressure, the placements. So when Christmas rolled around that year he was thrilled, already tired despite only having been at uni since September. 

Getting home was a relief, able to put aside studying and placement and everything and just focus on spending time with family for a few days. It was Finn’s birthday, too, which meant extra festivities and spending time with his little brother, which Fao adored anyway.

They’d started the tradition of going down to his big house for Christmas, which was nice. Fao could fill it with good memories again, and it meant they had all the countryside to enjoy over the holiday. Apollo even loved it, though he wasn’t allowed out of the house. It was big enough he didn’t need to, often caught chasing moths upstairs or curled up in front of the fireplace. They’d bought a couple of big trees, one for the hall and one for the living room, and Fao and Finn had had great fun decorating them together. 

Come Christmas Eve, Fao was doing some prep for Christmas Dinner, making life easier for them the next day. He had festive songs blaring, singing along as he chopped veg. He’d had a glass or two of mulled wine, and was certainly feeling festive. 

He’d set his knife down to grab another carrot, but knocked it off of with his elbow. Acting on instinct alone, he went to catch it, trying not to let it hit the floor - he didn’t want to have to wash it up. But he kept his knives sharp, and as he caught the knife the sharp blade bit into his skin and he dropped it with a clatter. 

“Fuck!” He exclaimed, blood welling up in the cut almost immediately, dripping on the floor surprisingly fast. He quickly ran it under the tap, swearing as it made the pain worse. He was bleeding a decent amount, and the cut looked deep. Shakily, he reached for a tea towel, wrapping it around his hand and picking up the knife. Last thing they needed was someone else getting hurt. Feeling more than just tipsy, he leaned against the counter, forcing himself to take a deep breath. 

Sheila had been pottering around the house, making sure the place was completely perfect for Christmas day, when she heard Fao's shout. For once, it wasn't Finn, but that didn't make it better. 

"Fao? What have you done?" She called, rushing through.

“I just cut myself.” He mumbled.

She sighed. "Let me see?"

He delicately peeled back the tea towel. “It’s deep.” He said. “Tried to catch a knife.”

She winced. "Oh, Fao. That's going to need stitches."

“I know.” He grumbled. “Fucking hurts.”

"Come on, I've not had a glass yet."

“‘M not sure I can move.” Fao admitted, aware the counter was basically holding him up. He was shaking, he knew, but that was the shock more than anything. 

"Alright, that's okay. Let’s sit on the floor for a mo, eh?" She gently steered him down, pulling him close. "You're okay."

He nodded. “It surprised me, is all.”

"Of course it did. It would have surprised me."

He forced a deep breath. “Yeah. Whoops.”

She had to laugh. "That's about right."

“Shouldn’t have tried to catch it. Didn’t want to wash it up.”

"You're an idiot. I love you, but all I've got is idiots in this house, the cat included."

“Sounds about right. And now I’ve gotta sit in A&E all evening on fucking Christmas Eve.” 

"Hopefully we won't be there forever."

The shakiness was starting to subside a little, replaced by pain. “Help me up? Sooner we go sooner we get home.”

"Take another minute?"

“Mm.”

"Just so you don't fall on me."

“It’s jus’ the shock, I feel okay.”

"I know, I know."

He sighed. “Sorry.”

"Don't be. It was either gonna be you or Finn."

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”

"The joys of having kids."

Fao managed a laugh, and then the pair of them got up off the floor. He was pleasantly surprised he didn’t pass out when he stood, but felt relatively okay, and quickly swapped the used tea towel for a clean one. They’d probably be waiting a while. 

He leaned on Sheila on the way to the car, and again from the car to A&E. Once they were checked in and sat, he rested his head against her, feeling tired and miserable.

"You're gonna be okay." She murmured, holding him close. "We'll be home before Christmas morning."

“Hope so. It hurts.” He said softly, glad of the comfort.

"Want me to go see if you can have anything?"

“Mm. I don’t know, they’ll probably just want me to wait.”

"Are you sure?"

“I just want to go home.” 

"I know."

He sighed, silent for a moment. “Mum?”

"What's wrong?"

“Love you. Sorry you always end up in A&E waiting rooms wit’ me.”

She hummed. "As long as you're still here, I don’t care where we are."

“Feels like I spend my life in A&E sometimes. At least this makes a difference from London, change of scenery an’ all.”

She had to laugh at that. "Oh, I guess that's true."

“Never a dull moment.”

"With you three? Not a chance."

[bananashemmo]

Hi Julie!

I can’t believe you’re still here!!! I think last time I read your blog was in 2017, I miss those times. I was feeling nostalgic so i came to check your blog, so happy that you’re still here. 🥰 How are you, what are you doing these days? I think if I remember right you graduated high school, did you study anything after that or are studying something? I’m glad i found here back and even after all these years it’s fun to read your writing and they still gives a little bit comfort🥺💖 when i read your writing it’s like going back in time🙈 Did you went to see 5sos on their last tour?

T: Anonymous reader since 2014🫶🏻

omg????? This message, I feel like I wanna cry 😭🙈🫶🏼

2017 was such a good year, dammit. I cannot believe it is 7 years ago. Like what the freak happened? I must say, things aren’t the way they were back then, the 5sos fandom is withering … but I like to come back here once in a while to reblog stuff and keep up with what’s going on. ✨ also just reading all the messages people have sent me. I somehow can’t wrap around my head that 30.000 people wanted to follow me, hear me talk about period squad and read my stories 😅

Yes, I graduated high school back in 2016 and had two gap years where I was a part of Wattpad futures, getting paid to write fanfiction. Then I went to college and got an ap degree in multimedia design and since then, I’ve been working as a graphic designer. Still writing romance novels, just no longer with 5sos. I’m currently rewriting The Math Teacher on Wattpad, it’s called Forever Could Be Ours. Thinking of self publishing it once it’s done.

I sometimes do read my own writing too, because it’s been so long and I’ve honestly forgotten half of it. I’m sometimes like where did I get come up with all this creativity, it was like a full time job and I was in high school most of my writing process??? I get why my grades sucked, I was too busy with fantasies and being on tumblr 😏

5sos, those freaking rude asses, haven’t planned tours in Scandinavia since the pandemic happened. So I haven’t seen them since 2018 which is driving me nuts. My boyfriend has promised me next time they go to Manchester, we’ll go to their concert ( in favour of watching a Manchester United game with him, haha)

Can i just say thank you for taking the time to write me this message, it has been the highlight of my fucking week. I felt like all of you were like my friends and it's definitely been sad to see the fandom leave for other interests 🤠🌻