#like hell yeah. i don't know what you're talking about but i support you

[party-lemon]

one of the funniest parts of tour is when gerard would just say some shit

[cripplecharacters]

How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special

[large text: How to Support People with Facial Differences - the Face Equality Week 2024 Special]

Today is the 13th of May, which means that the Face Equality Week has just started. This year's theme is “My Face is a Masterpiece” which is probably my favorite sentence ever said about having a facial difference. Huge fan, should be used way more often in my opinion.

Because of this occasion, I would like to share some thoughts about Face Equality that I think are rather entry-level, i.e. you don't need to know much to execute these, but you can still support us.

Stop the stare.

I know it's fun to stare - or so I guess, at least - but maybe you shouldn't. Next time you see someone who has a scar or who's face does not move the same way as yours, just mind your business. We can tell when you're “discreetly” looking.

Don't call us deformed. 

Knowing how the people you're trying to support actually call themselves should be an absolute first step, but most people still fail here. Most of us don't appreciate being called “deformed”. I certainly don't. Say “facial difference”, or “disfigurement” if you must. It's 2024. Leave “deformed” to medical reports from the 70s.

No more “What happened?!”s.

If you aren't a doctor, there's a high-to-100% chance that it's none of your business. It's cool that you're curious - keep it to yourself.

Stop insinuating that we are ugly.

“Support people who are ugly!” isn't very supportive. I would say, not in the slightest. Say “people who don't fit the current beauty standards” if that's what you mean. 

Or, to go with this year's theme, “people whose faces are masterpieces” : )

Use critical thinking online.

Is the reaction photo actually funny, or is it just a person with a craniofacial condition? Is the meme actually a meme, or is it just making fun of a person with a facial disfigurement? Is body-shaming suddenly hilarious to you when the person shamed has strabismus? 

If the entire punchline is “lol they have a disability xd”, it's ableism. Plain and simple.

To go with the point above - your joke is probably not funny.

We get it! You can't help telling us how "you're going to hell for laughing" (which yeah, probably) and how we remind you of the ugliest character you have ever seen. I guarantee you that we heard it, and that you are behaving like an edgy middle schooler who hasn't "found out" yet. It's boring and annoying. Also ableist, but you're aware of that already if you're saying that you're going to hell.

Stop with the goddamn trigger warnings. 

We aren't “body horror”, we aren't “gore”, we aren't something that you need to advise your viewers to use their discretion over. Every “graphic footage: child with neurofibromatosis” and “#tw burn scar” is a sign of ableism and disfiguremisia. People with facial differences deserve to be seen. Ableds can survive seeing a person without a nose.

Do a basic reading on what disfiguremisia is.

New word! And a pretty damn important one. It's a brand of ableism that intersects with more or less everything, and it means discrimination and hatred of people with facial differences/disfigurements. The bullying, harassment, endless name-calling, and microaggressions are all results of disfiguremisia. The ways in which everything is harder for us isn't some unchangeable rule of how the world works, it's just an extremely prevalent type of discrimination.

Understand that we are people.

I know, revolutionary - and yet impossible for so many people to get. We can be a visual representation of evil when it's necessary, we can be a feel-good inspirational story on a morning talk-show, but not much else, it seems. In reality, we are complex, we have our own lives, we can be happy and sad and have the same exact joys and worries that you have.

Hey, artists - facial differences don't make you evil.

Title stolen from a great essay by Lise Deguire (link). When's the last time you saw a positive character with a facial difference that wasn't inspiration porn? I mean a character that's not edgy, full of angst, a murderer, or a villain. Based on what you see in the media, you'd think that having a scar renders you evil on the spot, but in reality it just makes you loathe how artists apparently think you are like. It's boring, it's overdone, it's ableism. Stop doing this, and start noticing when it's being done. Point it out if your friend is writing their new villain to be an evil burn survivor. This kind of portrayal needed to stop ages ago, but tomorrow will be a great time as well.

Before you reply with “I've never seen this” - Darth Vader, Lion King’s Scar (subtle name, great thing to teach kids!), Freddy Krueger, Voldemort, we could be here forever. You're just not paying attention.

Pay attention to where we are not included.

As discussed, there are some places where you see us all the time. But where do you not see us?

Advertisements (unless it's for a scar-removal cream, of course). Fashion shows. Magazine covers. Romance movies where we are the main character.

We deserve to see ourselves in what's around us in the same way able-bodied people do. Trying to make it seem like we don't exist - that's deliberate. 

Interact with our art.

We draw, write, sing, act in movies, we do everything! Support us in the most tangible way - leave us a nice comment, read our books, listen to our songs. Watch movies where actual people with facial differences star, not pseudoinspirational stories about how “being disfigured is ok” where they shove an able-bodied actor into a full face prosthetic just to not have an actor with a disfigurement on set.

Include us.

As this year's Face Equality Week calls for, include us. In art, in movies, in books, in your life. Show us as positive people who are valuable, who are a part of your community - I guarantee that we are in every one that's out there. The world is hostile and unwelcoming to people with facial differences - be the change, wherever you are!

I know that it is different from the usual posts I make, but I hope it was somewhat educational. I just like to use every occasion that I can to force Face Equality into people's heads. To make this at least a bit about writing to keep the blog's theme, I will say that if you want to write about us, you need to care about us in real life as well. Otherwise, it's shallow and pointless.

Below the readmore are some links/resources that you can click to educate yourself further. A lot of them lead to Face Equality International because they have just about everything you should know. If you want to be a better ally to people with facial differences, I heavily recommend them!

#MyFaceIsAMasterpiece

mod Sasza

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/why-i-will-not-hide/

https://www.psychologytoday.com/gb/blog/disability-is-diversity/202111/hidden-community-the-movement-face-equality

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2022/05/facial-differences-in-the-media/

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/advertising-excludes-women-with-faces-like-mine/

https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/burn-community-bookshelf

https://faceequalityinternational.org/about-fei/international-face-equality-week/

https://faceequalityinternational.org/2023/04/hidden-from-view-women-with-facial-differences-in-the-media/

https://www.phoenix-society.org/resources/i-dont-see-your-scars

whoa thanks for actually clicking the readmore!!

[goldsbitch]

You texted...

Y/N and Lando are going through a rough patch in their relationship. Not really on speaking terms. This bad streak ends when there is a massive spider in her bathroom.

angst, one shot

The moment she spotted that creature sent from hell, everything else went out of the window. The dinner in the oven, the fact she was planning on doing a late night session in the gym, the fact her hair was still wet from the shower. The fact she and her boyfriend Lando were on "not speaking" terms.

Y/N was absolutely terrified of spiders her whole life and was never able to over come the fear by getting rid of them on her own. Lando was the one who always ever so kindly rescued her, he overtook this role her neighbor, who overtook it from her mom, who Y/N had trained to react immediately when she heard a very specific scream.

Now she was standing in her apartment, alone with nowhere to go, since her job was to stay frozen at one spot and stare at the creature, in case it moved, and not really sure who to call for help. Her best friend was the first option. Normally, it would have been her boyfriend, but something was stopping her from doing that.

"Come on, come on, come on," she whispered as she dialed her best friend living close by. "Pick up, dammit."

Finally, the tone she was praying for. "Hey, girl, what's up?"

No time for chit chat. "You have to come over now, immediately."

Her friend noticed the immediate distress and tuned herself in. "What's wrong?" she replied, sounding as she was ready to dial the police.

"There's a spider situation going on in my apartment."

"Uhm, I see," she said, more relaxed now, but still taking it seriously.

"It's huge, with like hairy legs and shit. You have to come over, now. We have a deal, remember?"

Her friend was equally terrified of mosquitoes, so they agreed that Y/N would deal with those while spider duty fell on the other lady. This has happened many many times before. Usually ended up with a nice girls evening. Ever since Lando appeared in Y/N life however, the emergency calls stopped.

"I thought Lando was around this week?" her friend asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying to get out of this, but I'm sort of like an hour away from you, so..."

Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. "Fucking hell...Yeah, we're not exactly speaking at the moment," she admitted.

"Wow, that's a first!?" her friend said, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Look, I'd love to chat, but are you coming or not? There's no one else and I'm not calling Lando!"

"Yes, yes, I'm getting in the car, just let me say good bye to my friends here, we're having a picnic," she replied and muted voices of disapproval came from the background.

Y/N felt guilty about doing this, but she'd dropped everything she was oing for her friend many times, answered phone calls in the middle of the night even though she was an early bird. They just had this kind of friendship.

"Drive fast, please," she said, still stubborn and not about to call Lando.

//

Y/N sat there staring at the spider for good ten minuted before her friend called again.

"Ok, I'm in the car, you can talk about Lando now, keep me busy. I'm going to pass over the fact you and your boyfriend are fighting and I have no idea," she said unapologetically.

"Figured you'd be mad about that. Yeah, he's been acting like a bit of a dick..."

"But you're not broken up, right?" her friend asked, slightly worried about her favorite couple.

"No, I don't think so. I hope so," she realized, the spider in the corner becoming lesser of her problems.

"And what seems to be the problem? Did he cheat?"

"No, not that I'm aware," she replied without thinking.

"Did you cheat?" her friend asked, ready to support her in anything.

"Jesus, no. It's um...I dunno, we've just grown a bit distant. Lately it feels like I'm like at number 50 of his priorities list. It's always only racing, Quadrant, promo event this and that."

"That's shitty, yeah. Would you like to be included? I know you hate things like promo events and such."

"I do! But honestly, I miss him so much and frankly I'd like to be more included in his life somehow. Especially now that I have more time in my life."

"Does he know that?"

"No?"

Her friend let out a deep sigh. "Hm. You have to untangle that. It would be stupid to break up over that."

"Yeah, I'd hate that," she said, panic setting in.

"Text him to come. To save you from the spider. It's a nice excuse and good test. To see if he cares."

"I'm scared. What if he does not respond?"

Few moments of dramatic silence. "Well, at least you'd know."

"Yeah. Ok. Sending it." Y/N quickly typed something up, trying not to overthink it.

"What did you text?"

"Can you come over asap? I need help with a spider. It's urgent."

"Nice. Now you'll see what he does."

They stayed on the phone together for good half an hour. Catching up and distracting Y/N from the fact there was no text from Lando coming her way.

//

A doorbell rang.

"You're here already?" Y/N asked her friend, surprised by her ability to drive this fast.

"Nope, still very much far away. Did I hear a bell? Do you think it's him?"

"I dunno. I'll mute you and if it's him I'll hang up, ok?"

"Gotcha."

She opened the door with a heavy heart. What if it was not him?

But it was. Flustered Lando stood there without saying hello. The two shared a pain-filled look, neither of them enjoying this no contact streak they had.

"You came..." she said finally, ending the phone call.

"You texted..." he said dryly and in full macho mode entered her apartment without being let it. "Can you point me where?"

"That corner," she simply pointed, flushed with emotions. Happy that he came to rescue her, sad about his loveless tone and scared of what was to come after. She watched him from afar, as he skillfully took the spider and threw it out of the balcony.

"Don't say anything about him knowing his way back, please," he said, hinting on the countless debates they'd had before about Lando not wanting to kill every spider they'd encounter.

The air suddenly went very heavy. Lando casually headed to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water while trying so hard to make eye contact with her. The last time they spoke was few days prior - and it was not a nice conversation. Lots of built up emotions got out, frustrated speeches made and confusing sentences jumping one after another. Ending with Lando slamming the door on his way out.

She had no clue where to start. "So, how have you been?" she asked, not sure she was ready for his answer. He finally looked at her, and then with an annoyed eye-roll went back into staring out of the window.

Y/N threw her hands up in the air as the familiar feeling from few days ago kicked back in. "Ok fine, sorry I asked. Thank you so much for your help, truly appreciated, but if you hate being around me, just say so that we can-"

"We can what?" he cut her off, not having any of that.

"I don't know, you tell me!...I'm getting lost at trying to read you," she admitted, not even trying to hide anything from him at this point.

"I'm sorry," he said slowly. "I don't think I listened to you," he sighed before continuing, "Or more like did not hear what you were saying."

The validation felt rewarding. But she feared what would come next.

"What I heard at that moment was you not respecting my lack of time and the fact that things I'm involved in are important to me."

She took a breath and planned on interrupting him, which he noticed and tried to stop.

"Let me finish, please. But thinking about it, I figured that's not the case, and you were simply pointing out that I've been putting off spending time with you. Which you're absolutely correct. I figured since we've been going to strong lately, this would be fine. But truth is I hate this distance it created. I feel lost, uneasy and unable to focus," he blabbered something, which felt like he might have even rehearsed on the way to her. "What I'm trying to say is - do you still care enough for us to fix it?"

It felt vulnerable, raw and maybe even uncomfortable to have these kinds of talks. But this is ultimately what cements a relationship.

Feeling like he managed to destroy some of the wall they'd put up, she took few steps towards him.

"Lando, of course I do. It's not a rare event that I imagine our future life together, as a couple and one day potentially as a family. Never had this feeling before in my life. Please, let's figure out a way how to prevent the distance from happening. Things have changed now, the relationship has too. We've been together for almost two years. And my love for you has only grown."

He finally smiled, relieved that they seemed to be on the same page.

"I came right from the tennis court, left everyone behind. Would you like to go there with me? Hang out with the Quadrant squad for a bit and then have a nice dinner somewhere? I just want to spend this evening with you."

"And the night hopefully," she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Always the night, it was absolutely horrible, knowing you're so close to me, yet having to sleep without you."

She closed the distance between them, embracing him into a hug. They bodies were more than familiar with each and it felt right to be that close. Definitely better than each of them standing in a different corner of the room.

"We still have to talk about this. I don't want our love to slip through by our fingers," she said, letting her anxiety out.

"We will. Tonight, we'll come up with a plan. Can you join me on few races later this month?" he asked, hoping for a positive answer.

"Of course, my love. I have to buy new clothes though, the cameras are savage."

He chuckled, relaxed now that he did not have to worry about having lost her. "Yes, they are."

She later call her friend to thank her for dropping everything and driving to save her, even though it was not needed in the end. Her friend was more than happy that she and Lando seemingly found the way back to each other.

She also admitted that she turned back the moment Y/N sent her text to Lando, knowing that this guy would come running anytime his girlfriend asked for help.

[l13]

hmm idk this is fluffy but i feel like ghost would secretly melt every time his gf would call him ‘angel’

wdym i love fluffff, send me fluffy asks i love emm:(

cw: pure fluff, f!reader

imagine you and ghost are cuddling, nd you're laying on your back with his hands wrapped around your middle, his head resting against your chest while you're talking about random stuff. And suddenly, nicknames come up, and you realize that you always call him either Simon or Ghost, despite him using 'lovie/love, baby, sweeatheart' regularly on you. Well... most of them were spoken in private, away from prying eyes, but STILL.

You were in shock that you'd never chosen anything for him, and kinda offended on behalf of him, too. He chuckled at your behavior, saying he really didn't care, but you insisted that he needed something. So you started to list off potential nicknames for him,

"Ghostie-"

"Absolutely not."

"Yeah that's bad, umm oh!! You can be my pookie bear,"

he nudged your side softly, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement "Stop it."

"I'm just playing. I can call you love, too, yknow. You're my love."

You run your fingers through his hair, smiling dumbly at the way you feel his breath hitch, but then he's huffing "That's your nickname, love, you can't have it."

"But I do have it-"

"I have it, and it's for you,"

you purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes "Fine." he hums in reply, and you're both quiet for a while, so much so that you think he's fallen asleep.

But then an idea pops into your head and your eyebrows shoot up, "What about angel?"

Ghost doesn't say anything but you can hear the sharp inhale of his nose, his hands tightening the slightest bit around you "Nah,"

you pout down at him, tilting your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, "Why not?"

"Just doesn't fit me, 's all." and you would have let it go if his reply had been different, but your gut told you that he was 100% serious,

"Simon.. Look at me," he refused to do so, so you tugged at his hair the slightest bit, and he groaned lowly, turning over so his chest is flush against your own, supporting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, his nose nudging your own.

your fingers fall from in between his hair, down to his cheeks, to cradle them in your palms as you look at him "You're an angel."

Ghost huffs, "An angel that kills people, sure,"

"Well... in Supernatural that's the norm-"

"Fuckin' hell.." he's rolling his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips nonetheless.

You narrow your eyes at him playfully, "Rule's changed, you don't get a say in this. I'm gonna call you angel, and that's final."

"Great." a snort escapes you at his dryness, and you giggle when he nuzzles his face against your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your cheekbone.

"I want more enthusiasm or else it's gonna change to pookie bear-"

Simon leans back to fully look at you, his eyebrows shot up, eyes seemingly glinting with mock interest "Changed my mind, angel's growin' on me."

"Thought so,"

<3

The next day when you walk in the mission brief room (idk wtf to call it, meeting room??) you mumble a small "Hey, angel," and maybe your brain is still foggy from sleep or maybe you genuinely didn't think much of it, but Soap's cackle is immediate, "Hey bon, listen I'm lovin' the new name but take me out to dinner first, yeah?"

Ghost's dumb grin fades in a millisecond at soap's comment and before he's realizing what he's doing he lets his hand brush your own as you pass by him, and then he's meeting Soap's stunned eyes, "She's talking to me,"

Soap still doesn't know what the fuck is going on when Ghost turns to you, muttering a small "Hi, lovie," your way,

[irisintheafterglow]

Can I request a racer!bakugo showing off his two most precious things after winning a big race, the trophy and his girl pleaseee?

THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE LOVE LOVE <33 also i can't find it but this is definitely inspired by that one bakugo fic where he's doing a vogue interview about the things he can't leave the house or live without (if anyone knows the link for it please please let me know because it's one of my all-time favorites)

"oh, look! it's bakugo! hey, man!"

"the hell are you doing outside my house?" the interviewer laughs nervously behind the camera, but your boyfriend's scowl doesn't move. it's a wonder that he's still viewed positively in the public eye despite his brash personality. you pinch the bridge of your nose with your fingers and avert your eyes from the second-floor window, sending another prayer begging for him to behave. the interview took place in his own home, for crying out loud. shouldn't he be the most comfortable in his safest space?

the answer is, unfortunately, no.

"i'm uh, here for your '73 questions' interview with vogue. d'you mind if i step inside with you?" he grunts reluctantly in response, swinging the front door open unceremoniously. you pity the poor guy who had to follow your husband around and chuck questions at him like armed grenades; there was always a chance that he would blow up. "so, where were you coming from?"

"grocery store. you want a drink?" good. at least he remembers his manners. "we got water, juice...i ain't giving you alcohol. i don't even know who the hell you are." never mind.

you spend the next 12-something minutes following their one-sided conversation around the house, careful to stay out of sight and silently begging your boyfriend to at least act a little warmer. the only time he does open up, much to the delight of fans, is when he's talking about you.

"'the things most precious to me?' i don't fuckin' know," you can hear him say plainly. you'd resigned to your shared bedroom to finish up some work when you heard the telltale calls of babe, c'mere! babe. babe. babe! from downstairs. with a huff, you set down your pen and make your way into the living room, where you see him holding his latest first-place trophy. it shines under the afternoon sun coming through the backyard windows. the camera pans to you in surprise and you thank your earlier self for wearing something other than pajamas.

"babe, c'mere," he insists and you roll your eyes in exasperation. his arm slips around your waist and you're suddenly hyperaware of the camera that's going to post your image to millions of people. "alright, nerd, you asked me what i wanna show off? they're right here," he boasts proudly and your face starts to heat up. "got my badass lover, my big-ass trophy, and i don't need anything else," he says with unexpected tenderness. "you got that?"

"y-yeah, i got it," the interviewer stutters out. "uh, thank you-"

"the hell do you look so nervous for? i don't fuckin' bite," he says and the man stammers again. "i don't know why i bother doing all this shit," he murmurs in your ear.

"this is why outlets are so scared to interview you, kats," you whisper and he shrugs indifferently. "you scare reporters too easily."

"don't care. i just wanna relax and spend my day off with you. i'm too tired to be dealing with this shit," he grumbles and you laugh under your breath. "baby?"

"hmm?"

"can you do me a big favor?" you narrow your eyes suspiciously while the cameraman fumbles about with his equipment, packing up to leave.

"depends on the favor," you say carefully. "will i need to compromise my morals?" your boyfriend barks out a laugh, and the reporter startles.

"no, no. nothing like that," he reassures you and drops his volume so that only you can hear him. "baby, sweetheart, love of my life?"

"yes, katsuki?"

"please get this man the fuck out of our house."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[norrisleclercf1]

He's Not Yours

Pairing: Mafia!Jenson x Assistant!Reader

Rating: PG-17

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Pregnancy, lying, angst, fluff, it's really just, yeah

Synopsis: One night changes your life, but one lie completely destroys it

Mafia Jenson: pt.1 Unattainable / pt.2 Slipping Through My Fingers

A/N: This was an idea @percervall and I talked about a long time ago and I’m finally writing it and yes this is part of the main story

With shaking hands, you try to read the test before you; you are unwilling to believe what the test says. The two little lines mock you, making you sick. Taking another deep breath, you grab your phone and dial the first person you can think of. 

"I need you," 

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

Lewis holds it as you sit on the couch, sobbing, trying to get control. You craved control, but instead, you've thrown your world into such uncontrollable chaos that your chest has tightened. Lewis takes an intense breath, blows out, puts the test down on the coffee table, and slowly bends to your height. 

"Jenson?" He asks the question slowly like he knew asking you would set off a whole wave of tears. You flinch at his name, the flashes of drinks, laughter, his hands on your body, pulling delicious toe-curling orgasms out of you. And the way he felt inside you. Shaking your head, you nod it slowly, and Lewis groans. He wants to yell at you for finally getting with Jenson and being so reckless. 

"Well, I know this isn't how you wanted to get with him, but Y/n." "He can never know," Lewis snaps his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing but softening when you look up at him. "Lewis, he can never know. Lewis, promise me, promise me you won't tell him." Lewis groans and hangs his head. Sighing, he pulls you into his arms as you cry into his chest. "I won't, I won't tell him." 

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

You finally calmed down enough to talk with Lewis about being pregnant. Pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Pregnant with Jenson's baby, it made a smile tug at your lips, but you had to shake your head as it would be extremely dangerous having his child. You loved Jenson, and he loved you, yet you two kept up this game of not being together. Jenson was the head of a Mafia group, and if his enemies learned he had a child, he'd have a weakness, a weakness that would end with either the child's death or his, and you knew you wouldn't survive either. 

"I know you don't want to tell him, but you can't hide it," Lewis whispers, pouring you some juice, even though you'd really wish it was alcohol. "I'm not going to hide it, Lewis. Just tell him it's someone else's, baby," Lewis makes a disgruntled noise and sits down, shaking his head. "Y/n, I love you, but that would crush him. He loves you, and you two finally sleep together, and he has been chewing Fernando and I's ear off about how you two are finally coming together." The knife in your heart stabs deeper, tearing into the muscle with such force you choke on air. 

"If people find out that this is his child, they'll target the child, and Jenson would," You take a deep breath as the tears gather in your eyes. "Jenson would rather die than let his child be harmed. I can't lose them both," You whimper, hanging your head in shame. "You're going to lose him if you tell him that you're carrying another man's baby." Lewis loves you, he'd kill for you, has killed for you, he'd die for you, but he wouldn't support you in this. Jenson has been his friend for years, and this would crush his dearest friend. 

"You think I don't know that!" Your voice raises at the end, and you swallow back the bile burning your throat. "Lewis, just trust that I'm doing the right thing," Lewis has never seen you so broken. You were always this badass, tough woman who could cut a man down with one look. Hell, you've got Jenson Button down on his knees for you. "I don't think you're doing the right thing, but I'll be here for you, no matter what." Lewis moves, sitting down next to you and kissing your head. 

"We have the gala tonight," you whisper, and Lewis groans, knowing Jenson will be all over you. You know, last gala, I snuck off with Sebastian, and we were gone for a while," you whisper, and Lewis goes tense next to you. "Don't, Jenson and Sebastian are close," You chuckle, sipping at the sweet drink in your hand. "Sebastian and I were engaged once." His jaw drops as you nod, having never revealed that fact. "I'm sorry, what? You were once engaged to Michael Schumacher's right-hand man, now the German Mafia's leader?" Lewis pulls back, and a wet chuckle gets past your lips. 

"We were children, young, we met at university, and well, it was a whirlwind romance. We got so close to being married, but we both realized we didn't want this, so we stopped. Stayed good friends too," Lewis thinks over every interaction you've had with them, and you giggle, seeing the lightbulb go off. "Oh my god, that's how you got us to meet with them," you nod and start to laugh, feeling slightly lighter. 

"Jesus," Lewis sinks into the couch as you nod. Where did you...could it be?" You stop him and shake your head no. "No, Sebastian... no, we didn't sleep together," you admit, and Lewis nods his head, not wanting to doubt you, but right now, he needs a little doubt. "Would Sebastian even agree to this?" Sipping on the juice is the only thing that does not make you nauseous. "Yes, he owes me." Lewis raises an eyebrow, and you lean back into his arms, his fingers digging into your neck muscles. 

"Why does he owe you?" Lewis stops and shakes his head fast. "Actually, don't tell me, knowing you, it's probably something horrible." Your lip quirks up as you sigh and look at Lewis. "He's in love with Mark," "Oh yeah, he's in love with Mark," Lewis repeats, his eyes slowly growing wide as he lets the words sink in. "What, but Mark is," "Yep," You whisper sadly, remembering the night Sebastian sobbed in your arms about Mark and how he would never love him. 

"Does Mark," "He suspects something, but that's why tonight I'll be stuck by his side. He'll get drunk and do something reckless," You whisper, Lewis nods and looks at the time. "We should get going," You nod, standing as you look down at the pregnancy test. "Oh god, I'm pregnant." Lewis laughs and pulls you into his chest, rubbing your arm, "Yeah, yeah, you are," 

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

"Something is off," Lewis tenses next to Jenson as he stares at you and Sebastian. Lewis tries hard not to make eye contact, worried he'll spill everything to Jenson. "What, no, nothing is off," Lewis answers far too fast, but Jenson doesn't clock it, staring a hole into your head. "How do Sebastian and Y/n know each other?" Lewis swears his muscles will rip from how tight they are, and Mark questions the closeness between you and Sebastian. 

Lewis wishes you could hear his thoughts as Sebastian puts an arm around your waist, and you lean into him. Lewis closes his eyes and sees Sebastian moving his hand lower and you inching closer. "Okay, I'm going to rip his hand off," Jenson slams his whiskey down, but Mark steps in. "Touch him, and I'll rip you apart." Jenson and Mark have a stare-down, Lewis panicking. "Stop it. They used to be engaged, so I'm sure there are still feelings there," Lewis blurts out, and he groans, knowing he just fucked up. 

"What?" Jenson's sound makes Lewis's blood run cold as Fernando walks up and giggles. "Eh, love birds are leaving," Lewis wishes Fernando could read a room. Actually, he could. He was just feeding into it." Jenson's eyes turn pitch black as Sebastian grins and leads you out of the gala. 

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

"Congratulations," Sebastian whispers, and you smile, lying your head on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, can," "Of course, but you know I won't be in the baby's life; I'm going to be the cool uncle." You giggle, and he sighs, pulling you closer. "So, Jenson, you are having a baby." "No," Your voice is cold as you touch your stomach. "I'm having a baby, not Jenson. He was just a...a sperm donor." You spit and sigh as Sebastian stares at you with wide eyes. "Woah, alright, never mind. Noted, don't talk about Jenson." Sebastian whispers, and you groan, burying your face in your hands. 

"Sorry, it's the fucking hormones, if the time is right, I'm 3 months pregnant." Sebastian hums and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "It's okay, but I'm serious; you can say I'm the father, but I can't be involved; he's around too much." You understood why Sebastian stayed away. It was too painful for him to constantly see Mark and not be with him. "I understand." And you did. It was unbearable for you to be around Jenson, even more so now that you are pregnant. 

"I could always move to Germany," You offer, and Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head no. "He'd follow you, and then rip me to shreds, and then just drag you back here." You nod your head, knowing that was all very true. "I'm glad I can call you my friend," Sebastian smirks and waves a hand over him. "Well, duh, I'm the better blonde." Giggling, you two stand up and walk back to the party; you shiver, feeling someone watching you. 

Turning, you see a distraught Lewis, a confused Mark, a smug Fernando, and a furious Jenson. Sebastian notices and moves, placing a delicate kiss on your lips and shocking you. You can see Fernando and Lewis holding Jenson back. "I hope you're making the right decision." You smile, and Sebastian gives you one last kiss, leaving you in the shadows. 

Walking over, you grab a drink, but Lewis quickly swaps them, and you nod. "What the fuck was that about?" Jenson growls, Mark even looking pissed, which has you thinking things over. "I was telling him some news," "Which is what? What could possibly have been your ex-fiance kissing you?" You whip your head to Lewis, who quickly looks away and whistles. "Nothing," Jenson tightens his hold on his glass and waves over the bartender. "Get her a real drink, please," "No, thank you," The guys stare at you, shocked; you always drink with them. "I can't drink," You whisper, unable to look them in the eyes. 

The bartender's eyes sweep over you and smile. "Congrats." He walks off. Jenson stares, but then a smile starts to grow. "Are you?" "Yes! And it's Sebastian's okay, but he wants... just leave it alone." You whisper. A pen could drop with how silent it was around you. Lewis, I want to go home now," Lewis nods and gathers you in his arms, noticing how you are still wearing Sebastian's jacket. 

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

2 months later, 5 months pregnant

You stopped wearing your heels, and you hated it. Mark and Jenson kept towering over you, and you were annoyed with it. Since that night at the gala, Jenson hasn't said much to you, just small words here and there, but today, he asked you to come into the office early, so here you are, trying to figure out what he would want to say to you. 

Knocking on the office door, you push it open and see Jenson sitting in the same position you left him last night. "Did you stay the night?" You ask, shocked at his disheveled state. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" The question throws you off, shock flashing through your features, but you quickly school your emotions and take a deep breath. "No, Jenson, it's not your baby." His face, once stoic, breaks as he takes a deep breath and looks away. 

"There's...not even a chance?" He whispers, and you hate being pregnant at this moment because he's got your throat tightening without even touching you, eyes burning like fire has been thrown in them. "No," You choke on the word; clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back and speak up. "No, there's not a chance." You repeat, and Jenson leans back, rubs his face, and nods. "Sebastian, he....he's going to be there for you, yes?" It wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. "No, he wants nothing to do with the bug, baby." Jenson's face is cold, but then he cracks a smile. 

"Bug?" You sigh. It was something you started calling the baby, and it just stuck. Lewis even bought the baby a little bug plushie. "Yes, it's something I called the baby," "That's cute," Jenson stands and walks over before settling on his couch and patting the empty side. You move and sit down, feeling your feet ache as you whine. "I'm not the father, but I want to help Y/n," You open your eyes and stare at him. The raw emotion on his face eats you alive, Jenson has always spoken about how much he's always wanted to be a father, and here he is, the father of your baby, and you're hiding that from him. Taking away the one thing he's truly wanted. 

"Jenson, you don't have to," Jenson moves, his large hands wrapping around your ankles and lifting them to his lap, and slowly rub the soles of your feet. "Jenson, please, I'm doing this alone," You whisper and pull your feet in, knees tucked into your chest. Jenson stares at you, the rejection hurting, but he clears his throat. "So, I'm just your boss, and you're my assistant, and us fucking, us telling each other we loved one another, that never happened? Instead, you fucked, Sebastian, and now you're pregnant with his baby, not mine." Jenson snaps, standing up, and you flinch, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just," You don't know what comes over you, but you start to cry and hold your arms out to him, just wanting to feel his warmth and smell the whiskey and earth that clings to him. Jenson doesn't think twice and sits down, pulling you into his lap. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You repeat, sobbing into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm always here," 

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

3 months later, 8 months pregnant 

You don't know how it happened, but one day, you were living in your lovely apartment, and suddenly, you were living in Jenson's home, painting the nursery together. Now, you're lying in bed, wondering if you should talk to Jenson. 

He wasn't his usual self; as your stomach grew, the more he refused to let you out of his sight, and you could tell he was slowly losing his mind. According to Lewis, he saw Sebastian not too long ago, and they both left the room with busted lips and black eyes. Jenson came stalking into the house, stormed past you, and locked himself up in his study hours ago. Unable to sleep, you throw the covers off and groan. 

Your stomach was heavier and heavier by the day as your little bug was dropping, getting ready for you to give birth. Holding your stomach, you waddle to his study and knock on the door softly. "Jense, it's me." You push it open with ease and stop seeing him sitting at the desk, his head down and a bottle of whiskey half empty. "Jenson," You whisper, close the door, and walk farther into the study. "Jenson, love," You whisper, hating how you living here has made you two grow closer, scary close for you. 

He looks up, and you hiss, seeing his eye and lip swollen. "That should be my baby; I wish it was my baby; I wish you were mine." He croaks, and you freeze, your hold on your stomach tightening. "Jense," "I would take such good care of you because I-.. because I love you." He whimpers, sounding so broken that you blink, and tears slide down your cheeks. Your chest aches; you knew he'd remember nothing in the morning. He was far too drunk to even correctly see if it was you in front of him and not some dream. 

"Jenson, he is yours," you whisper, stepping forward and cupping his face, wiping the tears as his hands touch your stomach, staring at it. "Don't hurt me like that, baby. It's okay; I don't need to lie to protect my heart. Don't care. I will care for them no matter what. I will care for both of you," He slurs with a sad smile. That ache in your chest grows as you pull him up; he stumbles but stands upright and blinks slowly. "Let's go to bed, Jense." Jenson nods and follows after you. He stumbles occasionally, but you carefully lead him into the room, and he flops onto his bed. 

"Go to sleep," You lean down and kiss his cheek, but he stops you, and you freeze, having never seen such vulnerability in someone before. "Stay, I'm, just stay," He begs, and you nod, not even thinking twice as you climb into the bed and sigh. Jenson's hand moves to your stomach, lying on it protectively. You flinch, feeling a little kick, and Jenson giggles. "Hey, little bug, I'm Jenson. I'm not your father, but I'll love you like one." You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to sob as Jenson slips off into sleep, leaving you to sob quietly into the pillow. 

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

1 month later, Hospital 

Jenson couldn't believe it; this tiny little human, the tiny bug, was finally here, in his arms. You slept soundly as Jenson refused to leave your side, and Lewis was picking out the perfect outfit to take him home in. "Should we do the bugs?" Jenson makes a face, and Lewis sighs as Jenson can't look away. The tiny bundle was tucked tight in his arms, staring up at Jenson. Jenson hated that the baby had Sebastian's eyes, these perfect little blues, with a little button nose and perfect lips. 

"Here, dress him in this," Lewis says, holding out a pretty blue onesie, but Jenson shakes his head. He and the baby were doing skin-to-skin, and it felt like the perfect thing to do like the universe was frozen and nothing was wrong in the world. Jenson, you have to dress him." Lewis whispers, and Jenson finally looks away and groans, taking the onesie. "Ruining mine and bug's moment." "His name is Theodore, Theo for short." Jenson doesn't think it is possible, but he falls more in love with the little boy and his mother. 

"Called Sebastian," Mark walks into the room and coos at the little blue eyes staring at him. Mark freezes and looks at Lewis with realization; Lewis slowly shakes his head no, and Mark looks at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed, and back at one of his dearest friends dressing the tiny human. "Yeah, what did he say? Does he even want to see his son?" Jenson asks in a cheery tone, but they can hear the anger in them. 

Theo coos and yawns. Mark melts before shaking his head. "Um, he said, 'Oh, that's good,' and hung up." Jenson picks up little Theo and holds him close like any father would. "Fuck him," Lewis casts a glare, and Jenson doesn't see it too wrapped up in little Theo, who just stares right back at Jenson. 

"Jenson," Lewis whispers; his close friend looks up with so much happiness and love that Lewis feels his heartbreak. Don't forget, he's not yours." Jenson's smile fades, blinking slowly as he looks back down at Theo and then at you. I know, but a man could dream." Jenson's voice breaks as he leans down, kissing Theo softly. "A man could dream," he whispers softly. 

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #9

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"This is just pointless."

"Fine, I'll just do it myself."

"Don't make me jealous."

"Want to watch a movie with me?"

"Much ado about nothing, right?"

"Keep me in your memories."

"I will miss you, I guess."

"Wow. You're phenomenal!"

"That is actually not comforting to hear."

"I want to show you what I can do."

"You guys are toxic for each other."

"Let's live in a cottage far away from everyone."

"Can you please just shut up for once?"

"I would rather not talk about it."

"No worry, you weren't that obvious."

"Do you want me to hit you?"

"I should really stop being a coward."

"Who did you ask?"

"Let's go on a walk."

"You're the one in control here."

"It's enough for now."

"Single, definitely not ready to mingle."

"Could you please repeat that?"

"I've got a very important question for you."

"We're all getting older."

"Did you drink anything today?"

"Not a single thought was put into this."

"Don't be so pessimistic."

"I think we've done all we can."

"Let's call the number and see who answers."

"Well, what's plan B?"

"A funny story actually..."

"I'm officially out of ideas."

"What a mess you made."

"You will not believe it!"

"I feel like I already lost."

"Care to explain all of this?"

"But I didn't do anything!"

"How can I help you today?"

"Please, get away from there."

"No, you didn't connect anything."

"Yeah, I'm okay, thank you."

"Don't shh me!"

"Hey, a little help please?"

"It's a sad sad world."

"Oh no, we're not going there!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Can you please call my mom?"

"If you want to be an idiot, be an idiot."

"That's how it's going to be, I'm afraid."

"Why do you need my approval?"

"Check mate, my mate!"

"I'm not going to jail for this."

"Such a sweet, innocent angel."

"Don't risk your life for me."

"Oh, I like a challenge."

"Not bad, but also not very good."

"Fine, I'll play along."

"It's not in my job description."

"A good question that I don't want to answer."

"Not going to say, 'cause I ain't a snitch."

"Stop this nonsense right now!"

"Think about me however you want."

"I'm not leaving so get used to me."

"Oh, the consequences for bad decisions."

"Just saying, but I'm much better for you."

"How are you holding up?"

"All the love to you, my man."

"Not my fault at all."

"I may have made a tiny little mistake."

"That is way above my pay grade."

"How the hell would I know?"

"I'm not exactly a fighter."

"So sweet of you, you're an angel."

"Thank you for bringing me home."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[robin374]

ROBIN HIHIHIHI, THINK FAST

*throws u silly HCS ideas yet again aggressively*

SOOO I KINDA GOT ATTACHED TO OUR ASSHOLE OF AN ANGEL, ADAM SO I WAS THINKING:

Adam x Sweet angel reader

basically reader is the most sweet person u can encounter, like always complementing Adam, giving him hand made gifts and etc, and then theres Adam.

wanna know how this dynamic will go

luv ya

"ᏖᏂᏋᏒᏋ ᎩᎧᏬ ᏗᏒᏋ, ᏕᏬᎶᏗᏒ ᏖᎥᏖᏕ!"

Character: Adam x reader (Romantic)

Notes: I'M BACK, I've finally finished my exams YIPPIE

Summary: Reader is a sweetheart and Adam somehow falls in love with them.

I'm pretty sure that he's always trying to make you angry in some way. For example, he will be trying to annoy you all the time, and you will answer him with a sweet smile asking him if he's happy that day because he seems more enegertic.

We all know that he sometimes says really morally questionable things, so whenever you hear him say those things you will hit the back of his head and scold him.

At first he thought that your kind and sweet nature was a sign of weakness, because well, he's always around Lute and the Exorcist angels. However, when he saw you ruining someone's day with just a smile and two sarcastic but bold phrases, all those negative thoughts about you dissapeared. Now you have a supportive angel behind you everytime you argue with someone. And with supportive I mean that he's flipping the other angel off while saying "That's right, bitch!" or "You tell ém, sugar tits!"

Yeah, he's pretty obvious with his crush on you, and he's not ashamed. He told Lute about it, she was bit confused at first, like... She's sure that your blood is pure sugar, how could he fall in love with you? You're the total opposite. But, she was happy that Adam found someone after the events with Lillith and Eve...

He's a bit insecure of those events, I mean, he's afraid that Lucifer goes to heaven and steal you away from him. Then, he realizes that you don't even know about the exterminations. He won't tell you, and if you were at the council when Charlie tried to talk to Heaven's leaders. He will be very afraid that you turn against him, that you see him as a monster. Of course, you don't want to accpet that he's been killing souls, even if they are in Hell, they don't desever to die permanentely.

He tried to apologize telling you that those souls desever it, they were in hell for a reason, right? You told him that as long as he didn't kill any children or people who didn't really deseve it, you would let him go down to Hell. If not, you would tell Sera and even God about it and forbid him to go to Hell.

Before the extermination he wanted to talk to you in private. "I want to tell you something, sweetcheeks." You looked at him with a smile. "I... Sorry, you..." For the first time in centuries he was at a loss of words. So, he decided to kiss your lips. It was a bit aggressive at first, but when you softly put your hands in his cheeks his tensed up body loosened a bit. When you separated, you looked at golden eyes, which were looking at you softly. You caressed his cheek, you knew that Hell was going to fight back in that extermination, you knew that he was in danger. "Just don't die, please." You whispered. "I won't die, sugar. I'm Adam, the Adam, the original dick! They can't kill me." He said while hugging you. The, he put his helmet on and flew off to Hell. You gave Lute a gaze that asked her to protect him.

What you didn't expect was to see Lute without an arm. You rapidly rushed to her and started to treat her wounds. While you were stitching up her arm, she took something from a bag. It was a halo similar to Adam's. Suddenly you felt a knot in your throat, was he dead? The look that Lute gave you told you everything. "I tried... But... I'm so sorry..."

You took his halo and put it next to your heart. Tears were falling from your eyes, Lute didn't know what to do, should she comfort you? Should she walk away? Call someone? She just decided to stand behind you waiting for you to say something Now, you had mixed feeling about Hell, you were sure that souls could be redeemed and that extermination was wrong. But how could you fully believe them when they killed your lover?

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

"i wanna Be Cool, but only if you want me to."

"want to impress you"

synopsis// everyone knows that basketball is the way to someone's heart.

pairing// satoru gojo x gn!reader

word count// 3.8k

contents// college au, basketball au, mutual unknown pining?, friends to lovers?, gojo is a loser, obligatory this is for you and misses

notes// lu wanted a basketball au so lu gets a basketball au. also obviously inspired by the basketball scene in jjk s2 anywho this is just kinda short n goofy :p also inspired by the song i wanna be cool by super whatevr. also i have no idea how basketball works and only ever played for fun so ermmm if anything is wrong bring that up with the universe !

Shoko unwillingly finds herself sitting on a random bench in the boys locker room, her arms crossed as she glares at the two boys in front of her.

“Why did you guys drag me in here?”

Geto speaks up first: “In my defense, this is all on Satoru, and I have no part in this.”

“You still dragged me in here, did you not?”

“…Yes.” 

“Then you took part in it.”

Gojo smiles as he smacks Geto on the back. “Exactly! You’re my accomplice.”

Shoko rolls her eyes. “Again, why did you guys drag me in here?”

“A presentation!”

“A presentation I have nothing to do with,” Geto chimes in as he takes a seat beside Shoko.

She briefly raises her eyebrow at Geto before directing it toward Gojo. “A presentation?” 

“Yes!” 

“I don’t see a projector or anything worth presenting here,” she says, looking around the room unamused.

“A presentation minus the actual presenting part...”

“So you dragged me in here just to talk to me?”

Geto leans in and whispers, “He actually wants to ask you something.”

Gojo stomps his foot like he’s about to throw a tantrum. “Geto shut up!”

“Can you just hurry up, Gojo?" She asks impatiently. “It reeks of axe body spray in here; I think it might actually kill me.”

He ignores her dramatics because, honestly, she’s not wrong. “You're coming to our game tonight, right?”

“I mean, yeah? Who isn't? It's the biggest game of the season.”

Geto adds, “That's what I said!”

“Do you know if Y/N is going?”

“Is that what you seriously dragged me in here for? Why didn't you just ask Y/N themself? You guys are friends, are you not?”

“Well yeah!” Gojo mumbles sheepishly, “But when I asked, they said maybe...”

“That means no,” Geto says quickly through a cough, as if trying to cover it up.

Gojo hears anyway and outstretches his arms toward Geto as if trying to draw attention toward him. “Exactly!” He then brings his hands in front of his face in a praying motion and begs, “Shoko, please!”

“Oh my fucking god, I don't know why you don't just ask them out already.”

“That's what I'm trying to do! But in order to do that, I kinda need them to go to tonight's game.”

Shoko glares at Gojo for what feels like forever, and Gojo glares back like they’ve suddenly entered a staring contest, and it’s Shoko who breaks eye contact first.

She sighs and pushes the hair out of her face as she mumbles, “God, you're lucky I'm tired of both of you pining after each other.”

“Thank you, Shoko!” he beams. “Also here.”

Shoko takes whatever Gojo is handing her and holds it up, her eyes slightly wide as she inspects it. “…Is this your jersey?”

He nods, fully confident within himself now that Shoko has agreed to drag you to the game, but tilts his head at her because he has no idea why she’s confused. “Yeah, I want them to wear it?” 

“You make me sick to my stomach, fine.”

“Shoko, do you wanna wear my jersey?” Geto suddenly asks.

She stares at him blankly, as if to ask if he really asked her that, knowing damn well she does not like him like that and she has a girlfriend, though after a few moments he finally gets the hint.

“Oh my god, not like that; I just want someone supporting me too.”

She sighs in relief, “Oh, thank god, don’t scare me like that, but yeah, fine, I’ll wear it.”

“Wait, what the hell?” Gojo exclaims, drawing Shoko’s and Geto’s attention back to him. “Shoko, would you have worn mine if I asked?”

“No.”

“What?! Why the hell not?”

“I like Geto more than I like you.”

He glares at her and quickly points out, “You're lying; if that was true, you wouldn't be helping me!”

Shoko simply shrugs and mumbles a small “bye” before getting up and leaving.

Geto stands up and takes his place next to Gojo, softly patting his back as he whispers, “Dare I say this ends our lifelong debate on who's superior?”

Gojo shrugs his hand off of him and speaks harshly through clenched teeth, “Shut. Your. Mouth.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

“Why would I want to go watch a bunch of sweaty men fight over balls?” You mumble offhandedly, focusing your attention on netflix playing on your phone rather than on her.

“Ok, Y/N, first of all, there's only one ball, and second of all, did you forget Gojo is on the basketball team?”

You quickly turn off your phone and sit up, clasping your hands together in your lap. “….Have I ever mentioned that basketball is actually my favorite sport?”

“Jesus Christ,” she mutters under her breath, pinching her nose bridge. “You're so obvious; why haven't you told him yet?”

“Are you insane? Gojo is hot, and on the basketball team, do you know how many people he already has crushing on him? I'm literally just another name on that list.”

“Sure,” she nods, “But the difference is that you're his friend too; you have more of a chance than anyone else.”

You sigh and frown at her. “Doubt.”

Shoko shakes her head, knowing that you two could spend all day here in your dorm debating whether you have a chance or not, but that’s not what she’s here for, so she’ll let you believe what you want, knowing that (hopefully) Gojo pulling whatever it is he wants to pull will prove you wrong.

“Whatever, put this on,” she says, throwing the jersey at you.

You catch it, your mouth slightly agape as you stare at it curiously. “…Isn't this?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, is it?”

“Shoko.”

“Can you just trust me?”

“I'm literally just gonna look like another one of his groupies," you say, disdain and disappointment lacing your words as your eyes dart back and forth between her and the jersey.

She smiles, and it’s off-putting because it’s not her normal smile; no, you know, this is the smile she only wears when she’s about to drop a bomb on you. “Difference is that that's his actual jersey.”

You freeze.

“What?”

“I’ll save you a seat. Bye,” she says as she walks out of your dorm.

The slam of your door restarts your heart, and suddenly it and your mind are racing at 100 miles per hour, and the only thing you can do is word vomit despite the fact that Shoko is gone.

“What do you mean by that?! What do you mean this is his actual jersey?!” You run and fling open your door to yell out into the hallway, “Get back here!?” 

Shoko is a good bit away at this point, but she still hears you call out for her and acknowledges that with a wave, yet she still keeps walking away, and you're stuck in your doorway with your chest heaving. You look back down at the jersey in your hands.

Holy shit.

Not only is this a jersey with Gojo’s number on it, but it’s his jersey. How did Shoko even get this? Did she just take it without him knowing? Too many thoughts are in your head, but there’s only one that keeps overlapping the others, there’s only one that’s consistent, only one that electrifies every neuron in your body:

Holy shit, this is Gojo’s jersey.

Fuck the questions and fuck the answers you know you won’t get; the only thing that matters to you right now is that you have and are about to wear Gojo’s jersey. You have to be dreaming; really, that’s the only logical answer, but holy fuck, if you’re dreaming, you do not plan on waking up anytime soon—or ever.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

The two teams quickly start filling up the court and taking up their respective spaces as they warm up, but Gojo, being Gojo, isn't doing that. Instead, he’s standing on the sidelines, looking in at the crowd of people starting to take their seats for the game, and his heart is racing as he searches the crowd for you, and it drops when he inevitably doesn’t find you, but he’s not discouraged, not yet at least, because the game hasn’t officially even started yet, so there’s still time for you to show up.

There’s still time.

He has to keep reminding himself that the whole time he’s warming up—now that he’s actually being forced to, though it’s a half-assed warm-up—he and his coach don’t even know whether what he’s doing could be considered a warm-up in the first place. The game is about to start any second now when Geto approaches Gojo.

“Nothing?” 

Gojo’s head drops as he reluctantly shakes it.

Geto hums and searches the stands for you, but when he doesn't find you either, he tries to find the next best person, Shoko, and it's quite easy to find her considering she’s wearing Geto's jersey.

“Shoko!”

She looks down from the bleachers and sees Geto staring at her as he gestures toward Gojo, and she knows he's trying to ask where you are, but in all honesty, she has no idea either. She shrugs, and even from as high up as she is, she can hear Geto groan before grabbing Gojo by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

“I'm sure they’ll come, dude.”

Gojo blankly stares at Geto, an eyebrow raised skeptically, as if to say, really? but before he can verbally reply, their coach comes over and removes Geto’s hand from Gojo’s shoulder to place his own hand there.

“I don't know what's going on with you, but whatever it is, fix it.”

Geto and Gojo tense up at his tone, full of nothing but pure determination. This isn't him asking; this is him demanding that Gojo get his shit together.

“This is the biggest game yet, and I'm not gonna let you and some petty college drama get in the way of that. You're our best player. Act like it.”

Gojo can only nod. His mouth suddenly feels dry, and it's like his throat is closing, but he tries to will the feeling away. Though his reaction is enough for his coach, who starts walking off.

Geto stares up at Gojo with his eyebrows knit, concern lacing his voice, “Gojo...”

Gojo shakes his head and takes a deep breath before flashing Geto his signature smile. “I'm fine, Geto; cmon, we got a basketball game to win.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

To be totally honest, the reason you were running so late to the game was because you were mentally shitting your pants the entire time you were getting ready. For a good chunk of time, you just sat on your bed with the jersey laid out in front of you, staring at it. Just staring at it, that's all. Because yes, even though you said fuck the questions and fuck the answers, you very much could not do that, not when too many questions and unknown answers were flooding your brain like a dam had cracked. You think you probably would've stayed like that all day and night, missing the game entirely, if not for Shoko spam calling your phone.

“What?”

“Don't 'what' me, where the fuck are you?” She snaps through the phone.

“Uh, getting ready?”

“Y/N, the game started twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh shit,” you say, hopping off your bed and quickly grabbing the jersey.

“Yeah, oh shit! Get your ass down here!”

You don't bother saying goodbye; instead, you quickly hang up, throw the jersey on as fast as you can, and bolt out the door. The halls are empty as you race through them, and you're not surprised; everyone is already at the game—everyone but you—and you speed up your pace just a smidge more. God, you're an idiot, missing the best game of the season—okay, you don't actually care about that. God, you're an idiot, missing seeing Gojo and maybe getting answers on how Shoko obtained his jersey—that's better.

You get to the gym in record time, slightly surprised at how quickly you got there, but you ignore that as you try to catch your breath before walking in and try to prepare yourself for the amount of noise that will assault your ears when you do. You can already hear how loud it is; the walls not doing very much at all to muffle the yells of people. You walk in and wince slightly at the noise as you look around for Shoko. She immediately finds you and waves her hand in the air for you to find, as does Utahime, who's sitting next to her. You smile and quickly make your way toward them, apologizing to the people you pushed through to get to them in the first place. You take your seat next to Shoko with a sigh.

“What did I miss?” you ask, leaning forward slightly just so you can look at both Utahime and Shoko.

Utahime has a small grimace on her face, and Shoko merely motions toward the scoreboard, and the minute you look, your jaw drops. Gojo’s team was losing. No. Losing isn't even the right word here; they were getting absolutely destroyed. They had zero points—none at all. You look back toward the two girls in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

“Gojo is literally sucking so much ass that it's throwing everyone else off,” Utahime says with a shrug before glancing down at your clothes. “Are you wearing his jersey?”

You clear your throat awkwardly and look away, ignoring the smirk on Shoko's face.

“So, uh, do we know why Gojo’s sucking ass?” You ask after a brief moment of silence.

“Nope,” Utahime responds with a shake of her head.

“I do,” Shoko says nonchalantly.

Your head snaps back toward her. “What? Why?”

“Yeah, you didn't tell me either!”

Shoko rolls her eyes and ignores both of you as she loudly calls out to Gojo, who, by some grace of god, hears her over the hundreds of other people yelling for him. Gojo’s eyes immediately find hers, and he watches how she subtly jerks her head to the side, and like some angel descended from the heavens, like a god showing itself in a moment of dire, he looks and finds you sitting there in his jersey, and he can't help the smile on his face, can't help how just your presence lit a fire underneath him, can't help how just seeing you gave him his pep back in his step.

Gojo finds Geto’s eyes on the court and nods determinedly. They are winning this game, whether it's the last thing Gojo does. He's not going to look like a fool in front of you. So that's exactly what Gojo does. Once the second period starts, Gojo steals back the ball with a new sudden ease, and by halftime, he’s gotten the team caught up to the other one, starting the third period with a tie.

“How the hell did he do that? I thought you guys said he sucked!”

“Aw man, I was rooting for the other team,” Utahime says, frowning, and you have to resist the urge to chew her out in defense of Gojo.

Shoko shrugs. “He was till you know…”

You stare at her blankly. “No, I don't know, actually. Care to enlighten me?”

“No, I do not,” she says before turning to Utahime. “And don't worry, they're only tied; there's still a chance the other team will win.”

Utahime cheerfully hums as she rests her head on Shoko’s shoulder. “You’re right!”

“Don't encourage her to root for the other team?!” 

Utahime sticks her tongue out at you, and before any of you can say anything else, a loud buzzer rings across the gym, indicating a point was made, and to your delight, it was for Gojo’s team. For the rest of the third period, it was just buzzer after buzzer as Gojo’s team took back their rightful place on the scoreboard, completely smashing the other team into the ground, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. Watching Gojo in his element was doing detrimental things to your crush on him, only making it worse, but you can't even seem to care. Shoko looks over to you and laughs.

“I can practically see the hearts in your eyes.”

You scoff. “Shut up!”

Down on the court, they had just started their last two-minute break between third and fourth period, with the coaches gathering their respective teams into a huddle.

“Alright guys,” Gojo’s coach began, “Keep your heads in the game; we’re taking this victory home, got it?”

All the boys nod hurriedly, and the coach leaves them to do what they need to before the last period starts, but Gojo doesn’t let them get far.

“Whatever fucking happens, I'm getting that last score, got it?”

Everyone on the team exchanges uneasy glances, and Geto rolls his eyes and sighs before apologizing for Gojo.

“He just has a plan and wants to do something, guys.”

The boys nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer.

“If you guys mess this up for me, I swear to god, I will make you wish you were never born,” Gojo says with his usual smile, but in this case, all his smile does is make him seem feral.

Geto slaps Gojo across the back of his head and huffs, “He doesn’t mean that, don't worry.”

“Oh, I fucking mean it.”

“Gojo, shut the fuck up.”

Before anyone else can say anything, the timer goes off, and into the last minutes of the game they go. As the game goes on, everyone is on the edge of their seat, even if deep down they know who will win. You and Utahime are no exception to this, but apparently Shoko is.

“Why the fuck are you guys on the edge of your seats? It's obvious we’re gonna win.”

You go to glare at her but can’t even hold your stare long enough because you're so enthralled by the game. “Still, it's so nervewracking!”

Utahime laughs. “I'm only on the edge of my seat because I want the other team to win.”

“Why are you such a hater, dude?” you ask defensively.

Utahime doesn’t mind; she knows all too well about your little crush on Gojo, so she doesn’t take offense to your tone. “When it comes to Gojo, I'm always a hater.”

You finally find it in you to glare at her. “I hope Shoko breaks up with you.”

She rolls her eyes and glares back. “Oh, haha, you're so mature.”

You say nothing but stick your tongue out at her childishly, and she does the same, to which Shoko groans and rolls her eyes before grabbing both of your heads and turning them to face the game.

“You can fight after the game; there's only a few seconds left.”

Gojo glances at the time and realizes it’s now or never. He finds that Geto has the ball and calls out for him. Geto, on the other hand, hesitates to pass him the ball, with a look on his face asking if he really wants to do this, and Gojo can only nod. How could he not want to do this? This is the only thing he can do; it's not like he knows how to ask someone out the normal way, so this will do; it has to. Gojo tries to control his breathing as he makes his way to the hoop, the ball dribbling in tune with his heartbeat, and nothing matters to him in that moment except you and scoring—his surroundings completely drowning out. Everyone holds their breath waiting for him to shoot, and right before he does, his eyes lock onto yours.

“This is for you, Y/N!” He yells out as he shoots, and…

And he misses.

Horribly.

And there's no chance for him to redeem himself because the minute the ball hits the ground, the buzzer goes off, indicating the end of the game, and everyone seemingly ignores whatever the fuck he just did and erupts into an uproar at the fact that they won regardless of Gojo’s miss.

“What-“

Shoko slaps a hand over her mouth, attempting and failing to hold in her laughter. “Did he just fucking miss?”

Utahime is hunched over, her head between her knees, laughing. “Oh my fucking god, he's an idiot!”

You blink, not moving, not saying anything, but with how hard Shoko is laughing and Utahime leaning against her as she laughs as well, Shoko ends up bumping into you, and she instantly grows quiet, her head snapping toward you.

“Oh, why are you still here?”

“Huh?” 

"Why aren’t you down there?” she asks, pointing down to the court.

“Am… Am I supposed to be?”

“Uh duh!” Utahime speaks up, peeking out from behind Shoko. “He made that shot for you! Well, he missed that shot for you.”

“Oh,” you say blankly. “Oh. Oh shit.”

You stood up abruptly, and with how fast you went down the bleachers, you almost tripped once you made it onto the ground. You quickly catch yourself, and the moment you look up to find Gojo, he’s already standing right in front of you.

“You're-you're wearing my jersey,” he says breathlessly, but not in a I-can’t-breathe way, more in a holy-shit-my-crush-is-actually-wearing-my-jersey way.

You swallow thickly and nod. Your gaze flickers down to the jersey before going back to his face. “I am.” 

“You are.” 

“What was that Gojo?”

He seems to grimace at your question. “Ah, well, you see, I was actually gonna say if I make this, you owe me a date, but that’s a really long sentence to shout, and what if I didn’t make it? That would’ve been so embarrassing.”

You laugh under your breath. “Gojo, you didn’t make it regardless.”

He frowns. “Don’t remind me.”

You smile and push a strand of hair stuck to his forehead out of the way, watching how he blushes furiously at your touch, and it makes your heart swoon. Who knew the confident number-one basketball player could crumble so readily under your touch?

“You know, I’m still more than happy to owe you a date.”

He smirks as he pulls you closer toward him by your waist and coos, “Yeah?"

“Yeah… But get the hell off of me, Gojo; you’re sweaty and you stink,” you grumble as you push against his chest, trying to free yourself.

Gojo ignores you and pulls you in closer (if even possible), his body engulfing yours as he rubs his face against yours, making sure his sweat rubs off on you too.

You struggle against his hold. “Gojo gross!” 

“Sorry, I can't hear you over the people. What are you saying? Hug you closer?”

“Gojo, don’t you dare.”

You hear him chuckle before rubbing up against you again, and you groan but stop resisting, which he hums happily at before starting to pull away. You watch how his face abruptly twists into feigned disgust.

"Ew, Y/N, get the hell off of me; you’re sweaty and you stink,” he mocks as he pushes you out of his hold.

“I hate you.”

“If you hated me, you wouldn’t be going on a date with me,” he singsongily says.

“Yeah, not anymore,” you mumble with a wry smile as you start walking away.

“Hey, wait, Y/N, come back!”

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[janeyseymour]

Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

���Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway. 

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her. 

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song. 

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

  You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here. 

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does. 

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.” 

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.���

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her. 

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you. 

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time. 

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s. 

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out. 

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles. 

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit. 

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.���

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

[churipu]

Hi! ☺️ First and foremost, I hope you're doing well. Also, I just recently found your page and I love your writing!

I really liked your post on the super sensitive reader with the jjk men. Can I get headcanons of the jjk men with reader who is very stoic and a little emotionally constipated? Like they have never seen reader cry ever while in their relationship together, but then reader ends up having a hard week and ends up crying from frustration.

jjk men & their emotionally constipated partner

featuring. shiu kong, itadori yuuji, todo aoi, geto suguru x reader

warnings. cursing and jjk men being sweet and soft to their partner <;33

note. hi anon! i'm doing great, hbu love? thank you for liking my works, you don't know how much that means to me, i hope you have a great day! and thank you for requesting, i find this request very interesting <33 also, thank you guys for the big amount of support i've been receiving for the last two days, can you imagine i gained like 140+ followers in that matter of time? i'm going to start violently sobbing istg. anw, i hope u sexies enjoy this <33

SHIU KONG. shiu loves you a lot, even if you struggle in showing the love back to him, he knows you love him a lot. shiu would receive random messages (mostly a picture of something and then you tell him that it reminded you of him, probably deemed as your love language now). i feel like shiu is partly happy that you don't take things into the heart - but at times he'd be very worried about you. you never cry, you almost never get angry at him even if he did something wrong (you'd just tell him it's nothing and you weren't mad, but he sometimes think it's because you didn't want to engage yourself in arguments), and hell, he barely sees you smile at all.

shiu has heard you tell stories about your new work place, which you quote unquote as toxic. and you've been in the company for no longer than three months, but the stories about your very annoying co-worker and your boss never stops. he swore that the topic of your work place was the only thing that could get you riled up.

i feel like shiu would be the type of boyfriend who would tell you to stop working because he's financially stable enough to provide for you, but you decline telling him that you didn't want to live off of him.

shiu didn't force you to stop or quit your job though, he'd be glad to listen to you talk about your days at work.

"y/n? you're ho— darling, what happened?" he saw the solemn look on your face and realized that something must have happened (yet again) at your work place, he dropped the cigar that was lodged in between his lips and immediately approached you.

you shook your head, inhaling sharply before kicking off your shoes, "work, of course."

"is it your boss? or that same co-worker again?" shiu knew that it was either your boss or this one co-worker who doesn't seem to enjoy your presence in the office.

"both." you sat down on the couch, throwing your head back in exhaustion (you were about to cry and the only way to stop your tears from coming out was to just force it back in with your head back), "i'm getting my paycheck reduced this month."

shiu took a seat next to you, "why?"

"i was blamed for something my co-worker did, this is so unfair," your voice cracked a little and shiu pulled you into a hug, you choked out a sob, "this is so unfair," you muttered out, your pent out anger and disappointment finally seeping out in a form of tears.

"hey, shh..." he soothes you, pulling back to see your tearful eyes. he grazed over your cheek to wipe the droplets away, "let me take care of them, yeah?"

you shook your head, "don't have to, i don't want to make this into a bigger mess."

shiu planted a kiss on your forehead, "don't worry about it darling, you trust me, don't you?"

"yes."

shiu had a "talk" with your boss and your co-worker the very next day and your co-worker ended up resigning right after, and your boss, well they never bothered you anymore (and you're getting an extra paycheck for the next half a year).

ITADORI YUUJI. people always wonder how you and itadori ended up with each other. him being this ray of sunshine, and you were like the moon. but he didn't care about what everyone says, he loves you — and that's what matter, right?

wrong. don't think that you didn't notice the enormous shit talking about you behind your back, about how you probably bribed itadori into dating you and what not. usually, you'd shove all those down the drain and forget about it.

but for some reason, you couldn't help but to rethink about what they said. how itadori isn't too fit for you, or how you don't deserve him at all. the only thing that managed to trigger you was how somebody said that itadori deserves someone more "emotionally available" for him, and that person isn't you.

you never liked being emotionally constipated, people always talk about you behind your back, saying how you're so distant and that being the reason you don't have any friends. you keep telling yourself that you're used to it when it comes to you, but when it comes to itadori and your relationship — you feel helpless.

"y/n? are you okay?"

you looked up at him, a glint of worry flashing in his eyes. and you can't help but to feel the frustration building in you as you remember the words people say to you, "yes..no? i don't kno—" you choked out, smacking your hand on top of your mouth at the sound you let out.

it just got worse when you feel the tears you've been penting up for the past few weeks come out. itadori blinked feverishly, a little surprised to see you crying like this. he has never seen you cry before, "y/n..?" he breathes out, his hand reaching out to you, but you moved back, trying to avoid his touch.

the embarrassment you felt was horrid, you hated crying in front of people, even your own boyfriend, "baby," itadori mutters out seriously, grabbing your arms and then pulling them away from your face, "tell me what's wrong. talk to me."

i feel like he knew where this was going, he had a hunch. for the past few weeks, you asked him about why he was with you, why he loves you when there were better people out there (you think). and he knew it was because of what people said.

"i...i just don't think i'm the right one for you, yuuji. they're right, you need a more emotionally available partner."

itadori's face fell when you said that, and he shook his head, pulling you into his embrace. rocking back and forth like a baby, "why would you say that? why would you listen to them y/n?" he asks quietly.

"i...don't know."

he pulled away, brows furrowed and he held your shoulders, "you're perfect for me, i don't give a fuck what they said about you and i. the next time someone says something, i'm going to beat them up," the thing is, he looked so serious you couldn't help but to chuckle.

"you just chuckled.." he breathes out, "my life is complete."

TODO AOI. he's very boisterous, and i feel like he'd be the type of person who would defend his partner everywhere they go. when you accepted his feelings, he was surprised since he never expected you to like someone like him. but he was pretty damn proud of you, and as a boyfriend, he shows you off like a trophy.

telling people about how amazing you are, how you make him happy, or how you treat him nicely. but people are fucking judgmental, some of them don't like the idea of others living happily — and you never thought that "these" particular people would target you next for it.

saying how fucking weird todo is for liking someone like you, and you had to be honest, it did get into you. and so began your avoidance to your own boyfriend, todo.

he hates it. he hated how you changed out of the blue, no matter how hard he tries to reach out for you, you weren't the same anymore and he never got why you decided to change.

believe me when i say that he tried asking his friends about it, or about tips to get you to talk to him. but really, they weren't much of a help, saying how you probably got bored and is avoiding him so he would be the one to break up first with you.

todo didn't want to let the idea of that get into him, but after a few weeks of you avoiding him non-stop, he began thinking the same thing. were you bored of him? did he do something that you didn't like? or is it because he ate the last chocolate chip cookie you were saving up and blamed it on someone else?

so when he got the chance to bump into you, he immediately took it as a chance to ask you about it.

"why are you avoiding me?" you tried ending the conversation right away by going the other way, but man is fast fast so he didn't let you — still wanting to know about the sudden change in your behavior.

todo knows how you didn't like being cornered, or how you don't like talking about the relationship, sappy shit. but if he didn't talk to you about this, todo knew he was going to regret it.

"y/n," he grabbed the back of your collar, pulling you back lightly, "did i do something wrong?"

you were silent for a few seconds before todo's ears perked up at the sound of soft, choked out sobs. you were crying. you were crying. and the panic sinks in, "i..i'm sorry, did i pull on your collar too hard?!" he panics, flailing his arms.

you shook your head, "...no, i'm sorry for avoiding you."

todo stopped his panicking and stood up straight, "i couldn't stop thinking about what people have to say about us, and now that i think about it, i feel like you deserve more than me," todo widened his eyes and looked around.

"who the fuck said that? i'm going to beat them up so bad people won't recognize them," todo mutters out and the corner of your lips tugged upward, "is that why you're avoiding me?"

you nod, "it was wrong. i know i should've said something about it. i'm sorry for avoiding you."

todo laid his hand on top of your head, brushing your h/c softly with a gentle smile, "you're perfect for me, fuck those people," he cusses out, "next time you hear em', don't forget to find out their names— i'm going to give them a lesson for it."

SUGURU GETO. suguru and you are like two peas in a pod. people never see him without you and vice versa, and often people would say that you both are the perfect couple. despite your personalities almost being the same type of calm, suguru is a calm man, and he's soft spoken. while you were just plain cold and stoic, rarely speak of something or even show your emotions.

someone bothering you? okay. someone making fun of you? okay. you were practically a walking definition of "i give zero fucks". but that doesn't mean you can't feel hurt, you are still human after all.

so when suguru told you about how he has a new co-worker, and how she has been clinging onto him, how she tries to get in his pants. you find it cute how he tells you about it, even telling you that you should come to his workplace so he could show you off.

you didn't feel anything because you trusted him. until you see the so called "co-worker" of his. she's pretty, you can't deny that. and you could see how she gets along with almost everyone, having no problem in instigating a conversation or complimenting people. people definitely like her.

that's where the insecurity began sinking in.

would suguru fall for her like everyone in his workplace does? would he leave you for her? so many questions you wanted to find the answer to.

"baby?"

you look at him, completely out of your daydream. he cocks his head to the side, "are you okay? you've been zoning out a lot lately..." he said, voice gentle and worried.

you nodded, "yeah. sorry. got a lot in my mind."

"do you want to talk about it?" he brushes a few h/c strands from covering your face, "you've been a little distant. is it something that i did, baby?"

god, just the thought of suguru thinking it was him made you a little sensitive. the past few weeks was already hard enough for you to contain yourself from breaking down, and him asking that made the tears you held in for so long drop out all at once.

suguru was a little taken aback and he sat straight up, alarmed, "y/n? baby? what's wrong?" he asks you gently, wiping the tears that never ceased from your face.

"i feel..i feel like i'm not enough. you deserve better than me, suguru." suguru swallowed the lump in his throat, he should've known, ever since you came to his workplace, you had started getting distant. and he should've known that was the reason.

suguru shook his head, cupping your face before giving you soft little kisses all over your face, "don't" a kiss on your forehead. "you" a kiss on your left cheek. "dare" a kiss on your right cheek. "say" a kiss on your nose. "that" a kiss on your chin.

the male gazes into your eyes deeply, "i love you," he softly said before planting a kiss on your lips, "you're the one i want, you're perfect for me. i can't see my future without you y/n, so please don't think about that..."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve and Eddie lay on the floor of Steve’s living room, staring at the ceiling fan as it moved on the lowest setting. They were both equally high, floating together like they were laying on clouds.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something?" Steve asked.

"Anything, man," Eddie said.

"I like more than one thing," Steve said. "So much more."

"More than one thing of what?" Eddie asked.

"You know how some people like one thing and the opposite thing, but some people like one thing and the opposite thing," Steve said. "I like more than one thing, you know?"

"Like some people like Star Wars and some people like Star Trek, then there are people who say it's the same thing," Eddie said. "Which is bullshit. Some people like both of them, like me."

"You like Star Wars and Star Trek?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, problem?" Eddie asked.

"Nah, man, I'm friends with other nerds," Steve said. "I also like Star Trek and Star Wars. I also like basketball. I like so many things. Is that weird?"

"Nah, man. I don't have a problem with basketball, not anymore," Eddie said. "There's just so many things out there to like, you know. Gotta keep my mind open."

"I think there's a word for what we are. I just can't think of what is," Steve said. "My head is so foggy."

"Yeah, I think your ceiling fan just turned into a helicopter, man," Eddie said.

"Oh, man. I do not want a helicopter in my living room," Steve said.

"You're right. It is better that we're both sober," Vickie said.

Vickie and Robin were sitting on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between them.

"Told you, highly entertaining," Robin said. "Don't worry, once they sober, they'll remember that they're boyfriends and that this is the fifth time they're coming out to each other."

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I tell you something else?" Steve asked.

"Yeah."

"Like sometimes, I don't feel like a man. Sometimes, I feel like a woman, but other days, I also feel like a man, and like other days, I don't feel like a man or a woman," Steve said. "Is that crazy?"

"Nah."

"Okay. Okay. We are encroaching on a territory I didn't know existed," Robin said with wide eyes.

"What do we do? Do we pretend like we didn't hear that?" Vickie asked.

"I mean, I think so. I don't know," Robin said. "Yeah, I think so. He's got to be the one to come to us on his own with that like he came out as bisexual. So, yeah, I think we just forget."

The next morning. . .

Robin walked downstairs and into her friend's kitchen. He was standing at the counter, drinking coffee. Robin stared at him, her heart full of affection and love for her platonic soulmate.

"Good morning, Robin," Steve said.

"It certainly is, good that is," Robin said, her eyes filling with proud tears.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

Robin sobbed and threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

"I love you, no matter what shape you come in," Robin said.

"Uh, okay?" Steve asked. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Like if you ever decided to become. . . Astronaut shaped, I think it would be cool. Stars are beautiful, you know, and it's a beautiful thing because we're all made of stardust. And if even if you didn't want to be an astronaut, it would still be beautiful stardust," Robin rambled.

"Robin. . .did you wait until this morning to smoke weed? Why didn't you smoke with us last night?" Steve asked.

"I wanted to see what you and Eddie talked about when you guys were high," Robin said.

"And?" He asked.

"So many wonderful things," Robin sniffled. "I'm so proud of you, and just so you know, I'll support whatever decision you make."

"What if I decide to shave all my hair off?" Steve asked.

"Even then, I'll still love you," Robin said.

"Even my eyebrows?"

"I still love you. . . Dingus."

Robin kissed his forehead and skipped back upstairs to Vickie, leaving Steve with the same wave of affection that hit her just moments ago.

[lvlyghost]

The Things I Never Said: Part 3

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Summary: You're required for one last mission.

Word Count: 2.5k

Tw: aaaaaangst, hurt with a lot of comfort. injuries, mentions of blood, kissing and slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit. price has to make a hard choice:(poor grammar, bad english ofc💅🏻 foreshadowing to my price fic 'salvation' if you squint.

A/N: i'm not gonna lie, when i wrote the first part of this fic i was bored and never in a million years did it cross my mind y'all would like it this much. sorry if this isn't as good, this is the final part of it, although i plan to write little drabbles every now and then. this was such a nice ride 🩷✨ thx for the support; remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome 🤍🐸

Masterlist✨ Part 2

Desk rotation wasn't fun, but it seemed to be the only suitable work for you considering your pregnancy, besides, it would allow Simon to keep an eye on you. At least he's sure you'd be safer in the military base than alone in your home.

Your only companion as you sit in the tech room is nothing more than a computer with two screens and Jimmy, the other tech guy who sits in the far corner across from you.

True to his word, Price had saved you and Simon a horrible martial court plus being discharged. Technically you're no longer a part of the 141 task force which is already upsetting to all of your team; instead working strictly under Price's command and assisting the different branches of the military. Meaning you're no longer subdued to Lieutenant Riley, therefore you're not his subordinate, at least not directly.

You respond to Price and only Price.

Nearing the end of your first trimester your swollen belly has started to show, the same you try to dissimulate by wearing bigger shirts than you would usually wear, but enough for Simon to notice when he'd place a big calloused hand on your stomach.

'It's... tiny.' He had stated, to which you laughed softly.

'Of course it is, your hand is massive!'

You shake your head, with a small smile on your lips as you remember that scene.

"Everything good?" You ask your companion.

"Mhm. You know you're the best for creating the security system right? Not a single breach or flaw. Couldn't ask for a better partner."

"Is that a chai?" Completely ignoring what he just said you point the white disposable cup next to him. He looks between you and his drink.

"Yeah? Didn't know you liked it, here... have it. I can get another." He assures you when you hesitate.

You thank him with glowing eyes and excitement. Cravings... you're embarrassed of the amount of food you've asked from Simon in the middle of the night. Sushi, pizza and even peaches just for the sake of the baby.

He's being the gentlest man on earth. Caring and supportive. Your phone buzzes as you're about to start to work. The screen lights up with a message from your Captain. Huffing you stand up, letting Jimmy know you'll be back in a few minutes, or so you thought.

You're not prepared for the hell unfolding inside John's office.

You're able to hear male voices from the other side of the hallway. You don't know why but your heart begins to race, knocking twice once you've reached the brown wooden door.

"Come in!" Price shouts from inside.

You open the door, greeted by John's hardened eyes and Simon's back as he hunches over the Captain's desk. Confused and much to your dismay there's a gigantic folder between the two men, your eyes fall on Ghost's trembling frame.

He is enraged.

Body buzzing in anger as the soft click of the door interrupts the silence that's fallen suddenly inside.

"You wanted to see me Sir?"

Price slowly stands, Simon doing the same, turning his head ever so slightly to watch you from over his shoulder.

"I need to talk to you, sweetheart." Price begins.

A deep breath exits Simon's chest.

"What is it?" You take a step closer to them, until you're standing next to him, crossing his arms over his chest he remains silent.

"We need you. For a mission." He states. "It's important, sergeant. I don't think anyone else would be able to pull this off." Your eyes dart back to your boyfriend. Staring daggers at his superior. "I'd never ask for this if I had to."

"Bloody hell Price, she's not fucking going!" He is seething.

The gut-wrenching feeling sets in your belly, tossing and turning with anxiety. Simon isn't taking this well and you don't want to see him like this, it breaks your heart.

"How important, Sir?" You ask.

Ghost snaps his head towards you. Jaw tightening, and calls your name ever so softly.

"Don't." He barks. "Don't fucking play the hero, kid." He warns you.

"I'm not trying to play the hero, Simon." You talk back. "I'm trying to figure out how to get this done. I might have someone else that could go in my place." Price sighs. "Can I do it from the base? Maybe I don't have to leave the compound."

"Reports say the files are heavily encrypted. It's the Russians, sergeant. We're not dealing with amateurs." He turns to Ghost emphasizing the last word. "You more than anyone should understand, Lieutenant."

"Not when you're bloody sending her to a suicide mission!"

"These are not my orders Simon! General Shepherd wants her! I tried to talk him out of it. I can't do much more, son." You swallow when Simon starts pacing around like a rabid dog, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there any way I can do it? She can guide me through it the whole time..." he's back, leaning closer to his Captain. "I know I...-"

"Unless you know how to code and decrypt systems to perfection it can't be, Ghost. I'm sorry."

"It would only slow down the mission, get you caught. And in danger..." you reasoned, mumbling and staring down to your feet. There's no one else. Not even Jimmy. The one you had in mind.

Simon's mouth snapped shut.

His eyes are helpless when he connects them with yours. The realization of what's about to happen sinking in his core, he tried. He really did.

One long stride and he's embracing you, so tightly you think you'll suffocate; you hug him back, head resting right over where his heart beats frantically against his ribcage.

"I'm coming with her." He snarls. "Not Kyle, not Johnny. And certainly not someone from fucking KorTac." He turns to glare at Price with a death stare. "It'll be me, no one else."

-

"John's devastated." You tell him. Your back pressing against his hard chest. The water in the bathtub is warm, and smells like lavender and sandalwood. After the catastrophic meeting a few hours ago, Simon was too outraged to remain at the base so he drove both of you back to the safety of his apartment. You rest your head on his left shoulder, enjoying the delicate touch of his hands on your lower belly. He hums, almost absentmindedly. He didn't want to think about Price, or the mission for all that matters. All he can think of is you. He sighs, closing his eyes he presses a kiss on your hair.

"Bloody fucking bald cunt." He spits. You snort at his comment. Shepherd was a complicated man, and hardly one you could negotiate with once he had his mind set on something or someone.

"When do we have to...-"

"Tomorrow." Your lips are pressed into a thin line. "I'll be there no matter what, right next to you, love." He reassures you. You were never one to hesitate during missions but now... releasing a shaky breath you turn your head to look at Simon.

"I'm scared..." Simon's body goes rigid. The hand on your stomach halting. "It's not even for me, you know?" Swallowing your free hand reaches down to find his own, lacing your fingers with him. A muscle becoming prominent in his jaw as he grits his teeth.

"Nothing will happen to you. Bloody count on it, yeah? First shite I deem dangerous I'm pulling us out of there, understand?" You nod.

"Promise me you won't get hurt." There's a moment of silence that becomes unbearable the longer it extends. "Simon..." his eyes are fixated on yours, shining with what you can only describe as worship. The faintest of smiles spreads across his features.

"Don't you worry about me, sweetheart. Not for one second." Breathing deeply you pull him down for a kiss. It's slow and tender; makes you forget about all the difficulties you face. Biting down his lip, Simon takes it as a sign to further deepen the kiss. Tongues finding each other in a fight for dominance. "Don't wanna think about what tomorrow holds. I have you here right now. That's all I need."

-

Your mind goes back to the moments you and Simon shared last night. It was so simple, so real.

That's how things were supposed to be.

Easy.

Not heart wrenching, not stifling down a cry as you watch him get shot. A bullet that was aimed at you .Breaking in had been easy. Way too easy for your liking. But you thought that for once maybe a mission wouldn't be a pain in the ass. The hardest part was getting inside their systems; John was right. It was hellish even for you. It took more time than what you had anticipated. No one would've been able to pull it off.

"Whoever is behind this, they're good." You acknowledged as you type down the codes that will eventually get you in.

"Bloody brilliant you are, kid." Simon watches from the other side of the room, eyes scanning the hallway every now and then looking for any possible hostiles. You send him a coy smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll get no work done."

"How am I supposed to look at you then?" He asks

You don't answer because the screen in front of you suddenly shifts from 'Access denied' to 'Access granted'.

"Got you." You whisper. Simon stands straight. You plug your USB and start downloading all the information as well as setting a virus so their system gets permanently damaged.

"What is it?" He gruffly asks when the files finished downloading on your own device. Clearing your throat you try to ignore the horrible pictures you just took a glimpse of.

"Just... insanity." Is all you can say. A loud metallic sound echoes in the room, you never get to see the person behind you. Ghost's eyes widen and he barks an order your ears don't register, static fills your eardrums. The gunfire starts but lasts mere seconds. Crimson blood splutters from Simon's body.

You stand up, knocking down the chair as you jump out and run where Simon's injured body kneels. You fall down grabbing him by the face. The pain you're feeling deep inside has never been worse.

"I'm fine." He hisses. "Just my fucking shoulder."

As if that would make you feel better.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Your lips quiver. You run back to retrieve the small USB drive.

The body of a man lays down, a pool of blood forms around him. He was hiding behind you the entire time. Had Simon been distracted the outcome could've been atrocious. Yo don't dwell on it.

"Come on, baby." You urge him, crouching down to help Simon as much as you can to get him standing. His weight is just too much for you, you think, when he finally raised to his feet.

"S'okay love. Don't... don't overwork yourself. I'm too heavy, don't wanna get you hurt because of me."

Tears form in the corner of you eyes at such selfless act.

"You're the one who got hurt because of me, Simon." You stammer.

"So what? Would fucking die for you." You shake your head but keep close to him. Pressing down the wound on his shoulder as you head towards the exit. "Evac point is ten minutes away. We should be fine." The gun that rests on your thigh feels heavier than it should.

You're lucky, you guess as you walk away from the god forsaken building.

Lucky that you have him by your side, even when his blood stains your fingers. He's there, you're there and you're making it out alive. Wounded or not, Simon would never let anything happen to you, that's how deep his love for you was.

He wasn't like his dad at all.

He was real, caring, something not much people knew. Not in their lifetime.

The amount of blood he was losing was inhumane. An injured shoulder couldn't cause someone to lose this much blood, you ponder. Your black shirt feels sticky and damp, you take a quick glance and hold back a sob. Another gunshot wound, one he didn't care enough to tell you about and you didn't notice, too scared to even think.

Far in the distance between two big threes a black truck awaits. Johnny's face dropping when he noticed Ghost's decaying form. He rushes in your direction, taking him off of you, carrying his weight. He gives you a concerned look.

"Johnny..." you choke up. "We have to save him, please."

-

It's been the worst 48 hours of your life since you landed. He got two surgeries done in order to remove the fragments from inside his body. You were exhausted, barely ate or slept. It almost felt criminal, selfish, when your eyes started to close and finally gave in.

Then the nightmares came.

Ones where he didn't make it back and instead you had to leave him behind and never got to meet his child.

A warm feeling spreads from your skin. A faint touch. Are you still dreaming? His face erupts in your subconscious mind and you cry again. He's fine.

When you slowly open up your eyes you're met with blue eyes and a raspy voice.

"Don't neglect yourself for me, kid." You're speechless, the searing pain in your heart eases. He knows you so well. Knows you haven't left his side. "Takes more than a bullet to keep me away from you." When you don't move nor speak he continues, clearing his throat. "Come here, sweet thing."

There's a new wave of tears that fall mercilessly down your cheeks. You carefully climb up next to Simon's good side.

"Don't you ever scare me like that!" you weep. Sobbing uncontrollably Simon hushes you. Murmuring words of comfort in your ear. The anesthesia is still making him feel dizzy but that doesn't stop him from kissing every part of your face. Your hair, your forehead, your cheek and finally your lips.

"Let's leave this place for a while. Go on vacation while we still can..." you beg.

Simon's lips twitch. He's smiling down at you.

"What do you have in mind doll?"

You breathe deeply.

"Greece. I always wanted to go to Greece."

There's moments in life when you doubt you'll get a happy ending. Being with Simon at first was pure coincidence, something that had evolved from deep admiration and respect, which then turned into something more. It turned out to sleepless nights at the common room with the task force. Longing stares during briefings. Looking after each other during missions.

The training sessions together. Lending his massive leather jacket because you were always reluctant to bring your own. That one night he couldn't resist it anymore and went to your dorm. How you felt under his touch, oh he was touch starved when it came to you. And when he learned he was going to be a father, that moment would be ingrained into his memory until his very last day.

"Greece it is."

It's a promise.

TAGS:

@nijiru @illyanam1011

[deadgirlkisses]

guess who's out of the shackles of writer's block? yup, me! anyway. this came to me randomly after seeing a tiktok based off of this career so yeah have thisヾ(•ω•`)o

cw: this can be read as either miles 1610! or miles 42!, black and fem reader, idk tbh but this has been proofread idk how many times :(, a shoutout to the line of work mentioned!

thinking about being miles' pinkish wifey, adorned in the cutest charms and fits, aromatized in the sweetly scented perfumes, and him being her supporter, always praising her for everything she could do, academics, hobbies, even with his hair ♡

ever since he found out about you being able to braid, retwist and do styles on his hair type, he was in love. what he didn't expect was the fact that you could literally cut & style hair. you were a female barber that got to cut hair for a few extra bucks spent on some lip glosses!

instead of hitting up his neighbouring barber shop in brooklyn, he calls you up, eager to know whether your free to hang out. it's a good time too since you've been noticing the way his hair's been growing out and wanted to do a lil' tweak on it.

" you see how it is right now? " " you're hair's grown since last time, omg! " " mmh, i know, i really wanna cut it but i don't know how i want it " " want me to do it for you? " " suena bien. adelante, princesa "

( " sounds good. go ahead, princess " )

meeting with him was always easy, you taking a quick stroll as you listened to some music, or him coming over to yours really quickly since he didn't want to keep you waiting. but this time, you had invited him over to yours to do the style you had seen as best for him.

he reaches to your home, reaching your bedroom, he sat on your reclinable chair he oh so loved and as comfortable as he needed while you laid your rilakkuma shoal on him, getting ready to make a skin line for the guidelines using your trimmer as you two talked about all the most random topics out there.

" i got the new jordan's but they were so expensive and for what, like, what else must a girl have to suffer from :( " " they look dumb as hell, i like mine better " " i'll shave your ear off, i know you're just saying that cuz you wanted us to match " " me conoces demasiado bien "

( " you know me too well " )

as you shaved and styled his hair, he watched in your mirror as it had come out elegantly, a perfect afro taper fade that accentuated his face too well, his confidence increasing a tenfold, thinking it was done until he saw your face, scrunched up and concentrated. he left himself on that seat as he saw you continue working on the back of his head, what were you doing?

" ¿qué haces ahí, mami? " " a lil' something, no worries, it looks good, you'll see ♡ "

( " what you doing there, mami? " )

you brush his head for any hair that hadn't moved off his head as you're nails slightly brushed past his skin until you finally remove the shoal, allowing him to freely stand up. while you clean your equipment, he takes out his phone, immediately going to his camera and letting his back face the mirror as he records his movements only to find himself shocked while watching the video back.

there it was, trimmed away, a cute design connecting with an initial that he quickly realised had been from your name, ended off with a heart. looking at you, he watched in adoration, his girlfriend, showing everyone he's hers without having to physically be there with him to show really got him, it got him good.

" you like it, love? " " so that's what you were doing at the back of my head, huh? " " it looks adorable doesn't it? " " se ve bien, pero se ve mejor con su nombre en ella ♡ "

( '' it looks good, but it looks better with your name on it ♡ " )

-xoxo, rue ♡

[reverseexorcist]

❥ 𝐋𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ❥

Man, I support women's rights and all, but women's wrongs is where it's at. Like, I get she's meant to be awful and all, but what if I was her favourite?

➲ Lute + !F!Reader

➲ Romantic ☒, Platonic ☐

➲ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 Count; 1,424 Words

➲ Warnings/notes; Female reader, spoilers for episode 8, mentions and brief depictions of gore, mostly fluff though, my god I wanna write so much more of Lute but my ideas only get so far

➨ Okay, so first off, this woman is probably stoic as fuck - At least in the beginning of the relationship. Stiff and gruff because to her she's a warrior first and herself second. That's what she's had to be for the longest time ever, and it's gonna take a while for you to coax her out of her battle-hardened shell

➨ The kind've touch starved person that would rather die painfully than ever let someone touch her kind've vibe. Even when you're the exception, it's probably just better to ask before initiating anything just so you don't get socked in the face

➨ (She'll apologise, but probably wouldn't be able to stop because that's just her instinct)

➨ When she warms up to it though, oh boy

➨ "What is this?"

➨ "A hug?"

➨ "Disgusting… Do it again."

➨ (Gladly. Her wings are so soft and fluffy and perfect for hugging)

➨ Her wings will flutter softly, puffing up and getting extra fluffy at your touch as she practically melts into you. She'll deny it every single time, but you know the truth, especially when you hear her walk through the door after a long day at work only to be met with the audible 'poof' from the exorcist as her wings fluff up

➨ Speaking of, Lute takes pride in her wings. Very careful with them outside of battle and all, meticulously cleans and preens them at the beginning and end of every day and is a chronic stomach sleeper because of this. Probably has some expensive feather shampoo or cleaner or whatever that makes them smell like cedar. Whenever she ends up moulting, the floor of your apartment will be covered in black and white feathers

➨ (Don't tell her, but you've kept some of them)

➨ AND THE MUSCLES!

➨ Oh buddy boy does this woman have muscles

➨ Like, yeah, she's the lieutenant of the exorcist army of course she's gonna be buff, but it doesn't mean it's any less hot

➨ (If you're lucky she might let you feel 'em)

➨ Lute is secretly so proud whenever you gawk over her. Will flare her wings and pose for you, but only you and only ever in private. There's no way in heaven or hell that Lute wants Adam on her case about her peacocking around her girlfriend

➨ (You think she's the type to ask you to sit on her back while she's doing push-ups? I do)

➨ She tries her damned hardest to keep you away from Adam. The dude is cool, but she's already worn thin keeping up with his energy and antics. Lute's aware of his antics, especially around women and she'd rather not make you go through that. You are hers, after all. She may be Adam's right hand man (woman), but you're her life partner first and foremost

➨ Can't talk about Lute without mentioning that the WOMAN HAS AN UNDERCUT? Sorry, but women with undercuts are my weakness

➨ Just imagining hugging her, wrapping your arms snuggly around her shoulders as she swaddles you in her broad wings, only to reach up and fluff the fuzz of her undercut

➨ I mean, her hair is probably just as soft as her wings. At least with her hair she'd probably let you comb it or something. Wing touching is something very intimate in heaven, so that probably won't happen for a while

➨ When it does happen however ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

➨ Nah, just kidding. Wings are sensitive, but, y'know, you probably already know this because everyone in heaven has wings. It'll probably just be you preening each other as you both devolve into flustered puddles

➨ Love language is probably something alone the lines of acts of service (giving and receiving) or words of affirmation (receiving).

➨ Likes hugs and kisses are cool and all and she'll probably never say no (unless it's in public), but getting told by you that you find her laugh adorable or that her wings look awesome or something like that (or even something even sappier), my god her brain with blue screen of death before you snap her out of it

➨ It honestly makes her so happy. I mean, no one else really compliments her like that. Sure, she and Adam hype each other up, and her subordinates respect her. But Adam's humour is far from clean and she gets the feeling the other exorcists are kind've scared of her

➨ After a few years and just settling into the relationship, it gets to a point where Lute realises she probably wants to spend the rest of her life (unlife? Afterlife? Does it count if she never died?) with you

➨ If you're just a regular citizen of heaven (i.e. someone Lute can't tell about the exterminations), she's probably more likely to baby you about literally everything. Like, she's extremely protective, but not necessarily jealous, but you're just so fluffy and soft and she just has the innate urge to protect you

➨ There's a part of her that just so damn tempted to tell you for the sole fact that it's another opportunity to flaunt how great she is. The bigger, more logical part of her knows that you're more likely to be absolutely horrified and would most likely want to break up in that very moment

➨ Which is the exact opposite of what she wants

➨ On the other hand, if you're a fellow exorcist like herself, chances are there will be some favouritism in the ranks

➨ Kind've loves you for it, because at least this way she knows you can take care of yourself without her having to mother you. And, while some part of her certainly does like the idea of having a partner that sort've contrasts her in an opposites attract kind've way, she also really likes the idea of a girlfriend that she can spar with

➨ (Insert cliché moment during a fight where one person lands on top of the other and they both blush)

➨ Exorcist or not, though, she still has her helmet just hanging around the apartment. If you're an exorcist too, sometimes the two of you will just sort've sit around and polish them whilst talking, making sure they shine for the next time you descend to hell.

➨ If you're not, well, Lute struggles to come up with an excuse for the first time you see it, eventually labelling it as an odd gift from Adam. It doesn't come up in conversation again till she comes home late from the office (curse the seraphims and Adam alike for giving her so much paperwork) only to find you curled up in your shared bed, clutching her helmet to your chest

➨ (It couldn't of been comfortable, but Lute's cold heart melted ever so slightly at the sight)

(Spoilers for the finale)

➨ My god, if you weren't an exorcist at the end of season 1 and you saw Lute come back in the state she did - Immediate heart attack

➨ At first you were confused, because, well, she told you she'd be gone for the entire day and wouldn't be back until midnight. And yet, when the commotion outside started only to be followed by horrified gasps, you couldn't help but get anxious

➨ Winding through the panicked streets, you finally managed to make it to the front, only to see Lute staggering toward the high seraphim. Her gaze glossed over you, eyes narrowed into slits that burned with raging fire

➨ Not only was she covered in crimson, but her clothes were also stained with the brilliant gold of her own blood. If that didn't freak you out, you couldn't help but let a strangled scream tear from your throat at the sight of her missing arm

➨ That seemed to snap her out of it. She glanced past the extremely tall form of Sera and gave you a mixed look, one filled with regret and despair, rage and fatigue, and the slightest hint of warmth as your very presence calmed her. Too much shit had happened in the past hour or so for her

➨ However, her bedraggled form covered in her own blood and the blood of sinners alike was bound to spark more questions from your anxious mind, and Lute had the idea that if you reacted like this about her returning early from an extermination, you probably weren't going to be so receptive to what her job actually was…

Rules + Info,

Masterlist,

[itshype]

How I Met Your Brother (DC x DP)

Dan joins the Justice League - not as part of his rehabilitation, but as a reward for doing so well.

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning Dan in front of Jazz. And as an eldest sister myself I would not be happy about an alternate version of my sibling being left completely alone in the world, no support, no family to then be turned into a psychopath. And I would be furious for them to then be imprisoned - not for life but for all time?

However, unlike me, Jazz is the world's foremost authority on ghost psychology. She has Dan out of his Thermos and in a larger enclosure within the week.

Now, a lot of fics have Jazz as a magical therapist who can say a few sentences and make any bad guy cry. Sorry, not today though.

First, they resocialise Dan like a feral cat (solitary confinement does make people get loopy), sitting outside his enclosure and hanging out, doing homework etc. This sort of gets him to figure out emotionally that he's no longer in the timeline where everyone he ever cared about died.

Danny discusses with him how many nightmares he's had over just the idea of losing his entire support network the way Dan did and he can't imagine what he's been through. But no emotions are not, in fact superior to having negative emotions.

After a few months, he decides that he does in fact want to actively try and get better. He goes to a therapist (because family members can't do therapy!!!) who's just unhinged enough to get a kick out of counselling a ghost from an alternate timeline.

There's only one relapse. Clockwork fixed it and they don't talk about it.

A month or so later they let him out of the enclosure for good. They offer to symbolically destroy it but Dan thinks they should keep it just in case.

While Dan's humanity has returned, his actual human half is gone forever. But he's interested in doing something with himself. He can't get a GED, or a degree, or be an astronaut. Maybe something in entertainment?

Tucker makes the grave mistake of mentioning that the Justice League headquarters are in space. Dan isn't as powerful anymore now he's no longer a halfa, but he knows he's handy in a fight. He loves space and due to having them repeatedly and ineffectively implemented against himself - a deep knowledge of international war tactics.

NGL, this isn't where I thought this story was going. But Dan is now an international politics, war policy and foreign affairs expert, I guess.

He helps a fair bit on the team, but his key contributions are his encyclopaedic predictions of how different international communities will react to events. If an out of control meta in Paris takes down the Eiffel Tower, he predicts which countries will immediately 'crack down' on their superpowered citizens - that sort of thing. It's invaluable for their PR team and young meta safety.

He's a friendly guy, doesn't judge anyone for losing control of their powers or going 'too far' on a villain who hurt their friends and family. And he never shuts up about his kid brother who is apparently also his best friend. He briefly mentions a baby sister he's never met and that makes everyone pretty sad.

He doesn't consider this Jazz his sister. He's already had a sister named Jazz and isn't looking for a 1:1 replacement. This Jazz is more like a mum-friend. However, he never had a Danny or an Ellie in his last life.

"My little brother told me about the trick to this level in Doomed 17, want me to explain what you're missing?"

"Sorry, I really can't possess you, even for 'anti mind-control' training. That isn't how overshadowing works, you can't become immune without exposure to ectoplasm in dangerous doses. No, I can't get you some pure ecto, my baby brother would kick my ass to hell."

"Yeah, my baby bro and I both wanted to be astronauts, I died so it's not in the cards for me anymore, but he has a real shot still, we're all rooting for him!"

Most Justice League members think he's a dead eldest brother with living siblings he's still in close contact with.

It's all fun and games until he tries to take a bullet for Batman during an ambush and it's actually an amnesia ray designed to make Batman forget about a specific case until the bad guy can complete his plan.

"I killed you all before, and I will do it again."