#that boy is not normal about his interests

[faetreides]

Modern coryo whos trying to sorta maybe manipulate his gf by being obsessed and then not reading her texts for 3 days but the gf is literally the same so it’ll be like

r: “heyyy” and then a day later he replies “heyaaa” and then it goes on like that for a week until he cracks and sends her 15 messages in the span of 4 minutes

cw: feminization/fem label “gf” but the reader is still only intended to be afab, the ask has she/her pronouns but i don’t use them in the writing, manipulation and toxic behavior, typical coryo/modern!coryo warnings, love bombing, not canon to the main au, black cat reader ish, reader has a shower in their dorm bc i say so 🤫, male masturbation

Now Coryo wouldn’t do this during your relationship, despite his best attempts to play it cool, you make him panic and he’s immediately resorting to rich boy love bombing (trips, those ridiculously expensive boxed roses, 999999999 rounds of oral on his yacht, a summer house, etc.) followed by baby trapping. He’s not stupid enough to try something like that deeper into your relationship, for him it’s about making sure the foundation is as solid as possible and not shaking it up.

This would really only happen before you even start dating, after he’s bumped into you in the dorms enough times to wear you down into giving him your number. He’s still in his “i have to the most mysterious person alive” mindset and he hasn’t quite shed the fuckboy persona yet. He doesn’t seek anybody out or anything, it was love at first sight with you unfortunately, he’ll just imply that that you’re another contact in a long list. (You’re the only one in his favorites 💀)

You’re smart enough to be wary, too involved in academics and proving yourself to go sniffing around Coriolanus Snow. You don’t really talk to a lot of people, and you’re not interested in a swarm of meaningless interactions. You’re just grateful that he stopped calling you so much, learning that you very much prefer texting. He’s the king of the “hey u up?” text, and you have the flattest look on your face as you reply “Yes.” and turn your phone face down. Exchanges like happen over and over.

Does your heart flutter when he insists on walking you to class and pecking your cheek at the door? Yes but you’ll roll your eyes and make a big deal out of wiping it off. Are you intrigued by how much he hauls ass to get you your coffee order whenever he senses that you need it (because he can, he’s like spiderman but lame)? Well, yes, but he must be playing some kind of game with you. Has a cliche bet with his fraternity brothers over your assumed virginity maybe. The more you’re determined to not fall for it, the more you find yourself slipping as the days go by.

Just when you turn your head when he pecks your cheek outside the lecture hall, expecting the gesture more than dreading it, he gives you a blank stare and turns on his heel. You take a second to blink and then shrug, it’s no skin off you back if Coriolanus decides to be normal for once. You definitely do not have a bit of a scowl throughout the entire session. (he nearly lost it when you didn’t react at the lack of a kiss, he kicked the wall and almost broke his foot)

He’s back to the “heyy” texts at random hours, responding to your “Hey.” that came a day later two days after that. He’s screaming into his pillow and pacing his grandma’am’s gardens, glaring at the staff pruning the shrubs. Coryo would rather die than admit defeat though, so he hardens his resolve. You’ll break eventually. You on the other hand are living normally, slurping ramen and working on essays. You’ve learned not get your hopes up over a pipe dream, the idea that someone like him would genuinely care about you being so laughable that you get over it rather quickly. You may be from different economic classes, but a man’s attention is never a necessity. That an he’s far from the only trust fund kid in the world.

A week later, your phone goes off in the middle of the night. You step out of the shower and dry yourself off, walking over to your bed and picking it up. To your surprise, the notification from Coriolanus isn’t another dry message, it’s several videos. They all look dark and fuzzy, ranging from 30 seconds to 10 minutes. In some of the thumbnails you can see flashes of bare skin. You click on the first one and are immediately faces with Coriolanus Snow’s sweaty abs.

You’re frozen as he eventually splatters jizz all over them, the camera work is shaky and the flash exposes too much for your liking. You can see his abdominal muscles twitch in the aftermath of his orgasm. He drags his fingers through his own cum and smears it over the camera, giving you a pov of what it’d be like to have your face covered in it.

Your phone chimes again.

Stalker: turn the sound on for the rest ;) see u at the car wash next friday, babe ❤️

You block him (after you save the videos and check the charge on your vibrator).

[ellecdc]

Mother, serious question mainly for my own self-esteem 😮‍💨😅

How do you think the boys (any of them really) would view a partner with like all sorts of facial piercings and like rat tails in their hair and funky colors(truly best describes as a queer little gremlin lol). Cause I know Marlene and Sirius have an alt rock aesthetic (I don't think I spelled that right) but as much as I love these characters I never feel like I would have fit in with them if I was really there ya know?

Idk it's kinda stupid but just curious on you're thoughts on this. They're just so cool and I would hope they would like me enough to at least be my friend if they were real 😮‍💨😖

okay first of all, love the title queer little gremlin; let's all capitalize those letters and add them to surveys when they ask you how you identify plsss??

Here's my take:

James:

I love (and follow religiously) the headcanon that James is pansexual but I believe that expands beyond just gender identity, if that makes sense?

It doesn't matter if you're male or female or anywhere in between or beyond or both or all

and I feel like it doesn't really matter what you look like to him

I feel like he loves people for their hearts, their minds, their interests, etc

I feel like he'd maybe be worried because....those had to hurt??? you do that on purpose? doesn't it hurt terribly? his poor sweet angel????

I also see him as the type of bf who would be like "oh! are we changing colours? which one's? can I help?" and will dutifully like, adorn gloves and sit in the bathroom breathing in dye fumes and chatting away with you while the two of you talk about everything and nothing - I think he'd love spending that time with you and it would be special bonding time

(also, have you seen the James fan art with him with a nose ring??? fuck me sideways)

Sirius:

you're so right re: alt-rock aesthetic etc

I think he'd find the facial piercings awesome tbh, you might even have inspired him to get one or more of his own

I think he'd make it almost a competition of who can dress the most grunge that day hahaha - but the two of you would make quite the couple

also? you look like the kind of person his posh, prissy, stuck up parents would hate seeing him with - that's totally a bonus

I see this guy as someone who loves hair care and would be horrified at how much/often you change your hair colour and would insist on helping you/buying the more expensive products/ensure you're doing it right to save your hair from too much damage

that's the only 'problem' I see him having

Remus:

idk, I kind of see him a little bit like James tbh; looks would be a little less important to him? like he doesn't care how you express yourself in terms of style and clothes

what would be important to him is that you're kind and patient, that you're openminded and considerate of others

I mean...he's littered with scars, is he not? He doesn't exactly look "normal" (derogatory) and would probably feel very similar to what you've described; like he doesn't feel he particularly 'fits in' with his friends

I see him having like, not long hair but like a decent head of curls, and he'd totally love if you braided a few little pieces of his hair like your 'rat tails'

I think he'd find the hair fun; you'd show up one day with new colours and I could see his face lighting up like 😃 "that looks great love; so fun"

Regulus:

he's tricky because he's so posh and stuck up lmfao

BUT

people also ship bartylus and I see so much Barty fan-art somewhat similar to how you've described yourself and if Reg likes Barty - he'd certainly like you too

Barty:

as mentioned above, I could totally see him having like a green streak in his hair or something

perhaps some piercings (I think he'd get piercings down below.....), tongue piercing, nose piercing, eyebrow piercing - I feel like he'd be down for it all himself, so he wouldn't mind it on you at all either

and again, as a guy with daddy issues, he'd be a lot like Sirius and think the better chance he has at dating someone who would sooooo piss of his dad - the better!

thanks for your ask babes <3

[houserautha]

Feyd is the type to go on and on about getting his wife/partner pregnant but when it comes to actually raising a child? The dramaaaaaa(and unhealed trauma) Ideally Feyd wants to raise a strong and ruthless warrior worthy of succeeding him when the time comes but like what if the little guy(probably a boy bc the prophecy and all that)just got real unlucky in the genetics lottery all the crazy and bloodthirsty-ness his parents have just skips a generation and he's the most sensitive and shy creature to ever be born on geidi prime the most un-harkonen harkonen Feyd getting frustrated his child doesn't have the strength to pick up a sword without trembling,to shed blood without wincing,to take a life without crying canonically I think he'd just throw the kid in the woods to fend for himself Sparta style and hope they die or return and be "normal" thinks he's been coddled for far too long because he just can't accept his son is so different from him sorry to dump all this on you dude I just had to talk to this to somebody!😭💀

Wait don’t apologize I actually really love this

Feyd would be incredibly insecure about fatherhood. He would struggle to connect with a newborn and swear that his son hates him because he always bursts into tears whenever Feyd picks him up. And as a toddler?? Feyd is already as volatile as a toddler so his son would infuriate him😂 I feel like he would snap and be impatient and frustrated. And maybe because he feels so insecure about his parenting/relationship with his son, he throws himself into work so that he doesn’t have to interact with his son as much

So his son grows up with a pretty explosive, absent father. Now he’s a child, and Feyd shows an interest in him again — it’s time to learn how to fight. Feyd spars with his son until his body is mottled with bruises and snot dries on his upper lip; Feyd is appalled by his son’s “weakness” and so shocked that he lashes out at him. Feyd definitely does not understand how to regulate his emotions or disguise his thoughts.

(Now, feel free to disregard this part because it’s related to TDE) Reader knows what it’s like to have your parents disappointed in you and your capabilities, so she nurtures her son and encourages him to do what he likes. I think it would be especially funny if their son is like naturally very tall and strong but is like Ferdinand and just wants to sit in the sun and read all day😂

So reader allows their son to pursue his interests — reading and politics and academics, which he excels in. He grows into a teenager. Other children his age mock him because he is so unlike any other Harkonnen, tease him that his mother must’ve been unfaithful. Their son, in turn, keeps to himself and doesn’t have any friends.

At this point I think Feyd (sadly) would’ve given up on his son. He would occasionally force him to take up a dagger or throw a punch, claiming that no son of his would be so weak. Now, as much as the son loathes these training sessions and his father’s cruelty, he desperately wants his approval. Which is the only reason he continues to agree to let Feyd push him to the dirt over and over again, to draw blood; to belittle him.

And this would drive a wedge in between Feyd and reader’s relationship. She understands Feyd’s own unresolved trauma and the Harkonnen battle culture, but she doesn’t understand how her husband could be so unkind to their son — who looks like a combination of them both, with Feyd’s plush lips but your distinct Atreides nose, brows always pulled down in concentration over his dark eyes.

“He will never survive here,” Feyd snarls at you one evening, when the conversation naturally drifts to your son as it always does. Feyd is shaking with his heightened emotions. “I just want him to be successful.”

And you push back, “He is successful.“

“His achievements mean nothing to the other Harkonnens. They demand brutality and blood, not his…weakness.”

And maybe as their son turns eighteen (or whatever age Harkonnens are deemed an adult, maybe younger because they don’t live very long lives) Feyd sends their son on the ceremonial journey into the Giedi Prime wilderness. Reader is unable to prevent this. Their son is expected to forge his own way home or perish. Now, their son takes an abnormally long time to return but he does — half dead because he refused to kill any wildlife or steal from others, surviving only on his wit and his knowledge of survival.

Feyd is not impressed.

And maybe this strenuous relationship continues well their son’s adulthood. It’s not until a political rival challenges Feyd that he discovers just how strong his son is. The rival is peaceful and refuses to fight or draw a weapon, and Feyd knows he can’t initiate an attack without suffering the consequences. He entirely has no idea how to handle this. But his son does.

His son knows all about this rival’s culture and history, how to appeal to them, how to navigate their political court and ultimately subdue the threat that they pose. For the first time, Feyd is proud of his son.

And thus begins the turn around of their relationship and Feyd realizing that strength does not always have to be physical. His son is probably in his late twenties/early thirties by now and Feyd takes to teaching his son less aggressive ways to fight — poison and pressure points and defensive measure — and allows his son to teach him about what he knows.

It certainly doesn’t blossom and thrive overnight. They are staunchly opposed to each other’s beliefs but somewhat begrudgingly begin to trust one another and build respect and admiration.

Feyd doesn’t know how to apologize or how to express his guilt over his son’s wasted childhood, but you bet your ass he leaps to his son’s defense whenever he gets the chance and defends him relentlessly.

And, oh, just wait until he becomes a grandfather.

Finally he feels he can rectify his wrongs.

[thecuriousquest]

E2? Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi ?

FEMOID!

Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “You’re better off without them anyway.”

Warnings: NSFW, heavy Yandere themes, non con, bondage, gagging, degradation, incel pervert, face slapping, Megumi loses his virginity, porn references, facial

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

Requests are temporarily closed. Thanks for understanding.

@murderofravens I’m not sure if you like Yan!Megumi content, so I just thought I’d tag you in it anyway.

—————————————————————————

Megumi drags you into the bedroom, your feet kicking, your nails clawing at his arms. Your body twisting and thrashing as he throws you down on the bed and pins you there. He crawls over you, heavy on your chest.

You’re able to let loose one sharp scream before he’s slapping you across the face.

“Why are you pretending to be a victim? Poor baby. Can get all the dick she wants but closes her legs when a decent guy is interested in her.”

“A decent guy wouldn’t do this! Megumi, please!”

“Like you’d know anything about it. I know your type. You’re only after guys who treat you like trash while guys like me come in last. You’re a fucking pathetic whore, holding out on me just because you think you’re better. Is that it? You really think a little skank like you is better than the rest of us?”

He rips your shirt open, the buttons of your blouse going everywhere in different directions. He looks at your rack and smiles devilishly. You try to cover up, use your hands to block his view of your padded bra.

He doesn’t like that. Megumi holds your wrists down against the bed on either side of your hips. He leans in close, smelling the dot of perfume you usually put on your sternum. It’s faint, like a delicate flower, barely there, but he can still make it out.

Your squirming becomes too much for him to deal with. He slaps you again, making you so dizzy and compliant as he stands up to go get something. All you can do is groan and lay there as you try to get your bearings.

Megumi returns and grabs your limbs, and you come alive again when you feel something scratchy wrapping around your wrists.

“No! No, Megumi! Stop it! No! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

“Shut up!” He shouts at you. “I can’t believe anything that comes out of that lying, bitchy mouth.”

He tears off a piece of duct tape and shuts you up with it.

Megumi strips off his clothes. If you weren’t so terrified, you’d probably take the time to appreciate his athletic build. He’s just…oh fuck…hes palming himself, growing harder and harder as he looks at you all tied up for his own use.

He runs his hand up your inner thigh, hooking two fingers in your panties and pulling them down slowly. All the way off, he takes them in his hand and fists your cotton underwear against his cock right in front of you. He pumps himself until he has a full erection. It curves upwards slightly, long in length. His thick tip leaks with pre as he crawls over you once more.

Your skirt, bra, shoes, and socks are the next to go. Finally, he sees you, all of you in the state you were meant to be in: naked just for him.

Finally, he gets the girl.

He can see the tears in your eyes as you whimper and make incomprehensible noises behind the duct tape over your lips. He can’t help but smirk at your pathetic state.

“All you bitches are the same,” he whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, pushing your knees up to your shoulders just like he’s seen so many pornstars do.

Taking your tight pussy might be the best thing Megumi has ever done for himself. He doesn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner. With the way you look at the other boys around campus, you fucking deserve it.

You throw your head back uncontrollably, thrusting your hips up without giving your body consent to do so. You don’t want this. Why, WHY, is your body reacting like you do?

This isn’t right! It isn’t normal. How his cock is hitting your sweet spot of pure pleasure, how he’s bumping your cervix with every heated thrust.

Megumi overstimulates you, biting down hard on your shoulder and pulling your hair back as he keeps himself up with one arm. The wild groans coming from his throat while beating your pussy senseless make you cry tears of terror and shame.

You don’t mean to do it. It just happens. He finally runs your g-spot so ragged that you can’t do anything but come. You’re a messy, twitchy little thing as Megumi splits you in half.

“You fuckmeats treat us like we’re less than you, less than human when we’re the superior ones. We’re your protectors. The least you can do is put yourself to good use and spread your legs,” Fushiguro taunts you, relishing in how weepy and scared you are.

Seeing your tears roll over the duct tape like that really drives him wild. He pulls out, fisting his cock until he’s spilling his seed all over you, giving you a nice and creamy facial.

When Megumi finishes, he’s panting heavily, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You shake as you look at the back of his wild, dark hair.

“I hope you understand this means we’re together now.”

His words catch you off guard. You don’t want to be together with Megumi, but what can you do right now? You can’t even speak!

“You’re better off without them anyway.”

[cerise-on-top]

hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]

Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;

NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader

NikPrice:

Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.

Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.

Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.

NikPrice x Reader

Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.

Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.

The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.

[antiquitea]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: john egan x gale cleven.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the last place that john egan wants to be the summer before he graduates high school is the egan family cottage, a place where time and everyone else seems to have forgotten. having been intent on finding a summer job, spending time with his friends, going to parties, and making out with pretty girls, john is irked that the egan family matriarch has other ideas and wants the family to spend "one last" summer together.

john's sour mood shifts just a little when he meets local, but also not-so-local, gale cleven, a boy his age who works at the small town's one pizza joint. through teenage angst and a desire to break free of the awkward position of not being children anymore but not yet men, the two form a bond that makes their summer a little more bearable. a bond that comes to shock the both of them.

but what happens when more than the summer comes to an end?

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: teen, though later chapters might have a slightly higher rating.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: YEAH FIRST MASTERS OF THE AIR FIC. thank you to everyone who reblogged the mood board and expressed interest in the story. special thanks to @wildbornsiren for being my ride or die and @swifty-fox for letting me share snippets and bouncing ideas off of you.

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! 💚

» mood board. » read on ao3.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈.

Summer 1986 Somewhere in Wisconsin

“Johnny!”

Evidently, John Egan had ignored the shouts from his mother to come inside for the last time. Her voice turned into something shrill that he could hear even down by the lake, where he could normally escape all manner of ruckus that came from the cottage. It wasn’t that noisy, he supposed. But it was difficult to get a moment of peace and quiet when his whole family - his ma and dad, his sister, and himself - were all crammed into the small two bedroom space.

When they were kids, John and his sister, Billie, would bunk together in one room, at first sharing the one bed, John then eventually sleeping on the floor when he “got too long,” as his dad put it. But when one is suddenly seventeen, and the other is fourteen, bunking together isn’t on the table anymore, no matter what Ma said. John would just as soon take the couch, which he was too long to fit on comfortably anymore, in the living room, or grab a tent and camp out under the stars if the weather was nice enough.

“Johnny Egan!”

The last name had been included, it was getting serious.

John pushed himself up with a soft grunt, hands instinctively wiping grass and dirt from the ass of his shorts. He reached over to pick up the battered copy of ‘Salem’s Lot and the empty bottle of Coke that he’d brought down to the edge of the lake with him, cramming the book in his back pocket, and holding the empty bottle between his long fingers.

He didn’t know what all the fuss was about, having dinner at the same time every night. It was summer, no one else seemed to be on a set schedule. Kids, teens, and adults ran wild in cottage country. At least that had been the way. Once upon a time, he and Billie had been allowed to miss dinners and stay out past their bedtimes. Yet somehow, as they got older, Ma and Dad were trying to tighten the reins. Ma had tearfully mentioned that it might be the last time they all got down to the lake together for the summer, as if one of them were fuckin’ dying or something.

John tramped through the brush and tall grass to get to the path that would lead him back to the small cluster of cottages on the the top of the hill. There had been four that had always been there, as long as he could remember, situated around the lake. They went back generations, passed down through handshakes and wills, little more than a handful of rooms for families to sleep, eat, and unwind after a day in the sun.

But over the past few years things further up the road were beginning to be developed, real proper like, and it was only a matter of time before it reached the older cottages down by the lake. John had ridden his bike past them shortly after they’d arrived a week ago; they looked almost as nice as the house that they lived in ten months out of the year back in Manitowoc. John had heard the stories about how the Egan Family Cottage had come to be, put together by his grandfather and a few friends over the course of the summer in 1945, a product of coming home from the war, too much time on their hands, and a lot of packs of cigarettes and beer.

“Jo -”

“I’m comin’ Ma!”

When he was a kid it seemed like a much greater distance between the cottage and the lake, and now he realized that they were within spitting distance of one another. He’d taken up less space then. 

John crested over the small hill at the top of the path, the cottages in full or partial view now. Theirs was on the far right, and despite its location amongst the small cluster, had been the center of his universe, and the universe of all the other kids, summer friends, that spent summers there, for as long as he could remember. But the Miller kids were both off to college the last couple of years, and Amos Cook had passed away early that spring, and his widow couldn’t bear to come down and bring their grandkids with her.

Suddenly, at seventeen years of age, John felt too young and too old all at once.

—

“Lucia’s dad said he would drive us to the mall the next town over tonight. If that’s okay? Ma? It closes at eight.”

John pushed the remnants of dinner around his plate with the prongs of his fork, desperately wanting to be set free from the small dinner table shoved into a corner of an equally small kitchen, to go and find somewhere to finish his book. He only had a couple of chapters left before he was finished, and he really wanted an excuse to take his bike (or the truck if Dad was in a good mood) into town the next day, go to the library, maybe spend some time at the pizza place that had Galaga and Time Pilot arcade cabinets, see a pretty girl. Any girl, really. He was beginning to think his summer would’ve been better spent in Manitowoc. At least then maybe he stood a chance of feeling up something pretty in the back seat at the drive-in.

“Who’s Lucia?” John Egan the Elder asked, reaching over and opening the fridge door. The perks of the small kitchen and its small dinner table meant that the fridge was often within reach. Egan Senior pulled out a beer and held it up, looking at John with raised eyebrows. John nodded, and his dad pulled another one out. He popped the caps off of both and then handed one to his son.

“A new friend,” Billie replied after a sip of water. “Her parents have one of the cottages up the road. I met her today. She’s really nice. Ma, you’d like her.”

“Oh, Billie. Why would you want to go to the mall on a night like this?” Ma Egan asked, dabbing her lips with a napkin.

Dinner had been steaks and vegetables that Dad had cooked on the barbeque. It dawned on John that in the summer that his dad did most of the cooking on the grill, which meant Ma got a break from cooking. Perhaps that was why she had been so eager to come down to the cottage every year. 

“Oh let her go, Ma,” John Sr. said, then taking a sip from his bottle of beer. “She’s met a new friend and wants to go to the mall. Ain’t no danger in it. So long as she doesn’t spend her entire allowance.”

John swore his Ma still believed that they were children who needed coddling and protection from the world. He had his own feelings about his sister getting older - for one thing, she was infinitely more annoying than he had ever remembered her being - but Billie didn’t need Ma looming over her shoulder at all times.

“Well, who will John spend time with if she’s gone?” Ma asked John Sr., as if neither Billie or John will be present.

“He’s seventeen, he doesn’t want to spend summer nights with his kid sister.” Again, they may as well have not been there. “Am I right, John?”

John inhaled, waiting for a moment of quiet in which he could reply in, before Ma was filling the void. “Oh, all right. Is Lucia’s dad going to pick you up from the mall?”

Billie brightened. “Yes. Eight o’clock on the dot, he said.”

“Then I suppose it’s all right. But I want you home no later than eight thirty.”

“May I be excused?” John asked, looking between his parents.

“Of course,” Ma replied, before immediately turning back to Billie to go over the five new rules she’d just concocted for going to the mall with Lucia.

John cleared his plate, grabbed his beer, his book from off the table by the back door, and made his way back down to his spot at the lake. He still had a couple of hours of daylight left, and even after he finished his book (he was a fast reader) there would be plenty of time for him to just lay by the lake, sipping the remnants of his beer, and enjoying the sounds of the crickets and the lake.

—

Back in Manitowoc, the library had a couple of girls John’s age who worked there part time. While he did enjoy going there to check out something new, he also enjoyed leaning over the counter, smiling with all of his teeth, and asking what their favourite books were. He also enjoyed watching them duck their heads and giggle, and on occasion following them to the very back stacks where their favourite books were not at all located and putting his hands under their skirts while they tried to stifle their moans against his shoulder.

In the town library down at the cottage it was small enough to be staffed by one woman, and that woman was old enough to be his grandmother. John wasn’t opposed necessarily … she just wasn’t his type.

His solitary errand completed for the day (he picked a couple more Stephen King books), John glanced at his watch. It was only ten in the morning.

Letting out a huff, he leaned against the brick exterior of the library and looked up and down the one street the town possessed. So many shops weren’t even opened yet, their proprietors moving as lazily as the out of towners who took over in the summer. John didn’t know much about business or economics (despite Dad’s best efforts), but thought that opening earlier would be more profitable.

Or maybe it wouldn’t. He was just bored out of his skull.

They had six more weeks there.

Books placed in the milk crate at the back, John mounted his bike and began lazily cycling down the street back toward the direction of the cottage, passing by the pizza place. It was open, and John spotted a couple of kids Billie’s age playing Galaga. It felt far too early for a slice, but John wasn’t quite ready to go back to the cottage and get through another book in a day.

Parking his bike outside, John then opened the door to Rush Hour Pizza. What passed for rush hour in this place he would very much like to see. The boys were playing Galaga, one shouting very unhelpful directions at the other, but aside from that the shop was empty, save for the thin blond working behind the counter, her back turned to the entrance. He leaned over the counter, one hand pressed against the linoleum and set his voice to purr.

“Hey pretty thing.”

The blond turned around, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline, blue eyes wide.

Fuck.

“Um.”

“Yeah,” the boy around John’s age supplied, tucking a piece of his long blond hair behind his ear. “My dad’s been saying I should get a haircut.”

He was slender, but not so slender that John should’ve been mistaking him for a girl. John was scarlett with shame, but tried not to let it show, instead just clearing his throat and looking down at the counter for a moment to get his bearings.

“What can I get for ya?” the boy asked.

“Uh,” John replied, finally glancing up. Okay, so he may have been a boy but he was still extremely pretty in a masculine sense. Was that a thing that men were? John had never thought a boy was pretty before. He’d looked at men with curiosity, but never -

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” John replied. “Can I, uh, get a slice?”

“This early?”

John looked at the boy across the counter incredulously. “It’s … a pizza place. You sell pizza. You’re open.”

“Yeah, but … it’s ten in the morning.”

“Then what …” John trailed off, gesturing to the boys playing Galaga.

The blond boy leaned over the counter, looking at the two younger boys shoving quarters into the arcade cabinet, and then looking back at John. “They’re playing Galaga.”

“I see that they’re playing Galaga. But isn’t this the sort of place where you, I dunno, have to buy something in order to use … the facilities?”

The boy chuckled and John kind of hated him. He stole a glance at the nametag pinned to the boy’s apron - GALE - and then lifted his gaze to his face once more.

“When my dad is here, probably. But I dunno, it’s summer and this place is boring. I don’t care. If they wanna feed quarters into the machines they can go for it. We get their money regardless. At least, that’s what my dad would say. They bought some Cokes about an hour ago,” Gale said. “Pizza’s not even ready yet.”

John blinked. “Then why are you open?”

“Galaga,” Gale replied, pointing at the boys and the arcade cabinet once more. “I was here making the pizzas anyway.”

“So when you asked what you could get me, it was limited to beverages,” John said, letting out a sigh.

“There’s a menu,” Gale said, pointing to the large board above his head. “I can make you a sandwich. Or a sub.”

For the first time, John picks up on Gale’s accent, and cocks his head. “Not from around here, are you?”

“No sir,” Gale replied, leaning against the counter. “Born in South Dakota, grew up in Wyoming.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here?” John asked. Gale opened his mouth to speak and John interrupted him. “If you say ‘Galaga’ one more time -”

Gale laughed, something big and bright, showing all of his perfect fuckin’ teeth. It stretched up to the corners of his eyes and made his nose scrunch up, and John’s face felt strangely warm again. “Change of scenery. Dad got tired of Wyoming.” He tilted his head at John. “You’re not from here either.”

“Well, I’m from Manitowoc. My family summers here.”

“Summers. Fancy,” Gale said a little teasingly, straightening back up. It was far from fancy, but John didn’t correct him. “Can I make you a sandwich or what?���

John reached into his pockets and pulled out his wallet, rifling through his cash. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Cold cut sub sounds great. Not gonna get on my ass about it being too early for lunch?”

“I would never,” Gale replied with a slow smile.

—

“You were gone long,” Ma said the moment that John walked in through the back door of the cottage, a stack of books under his arm.

John rolled his eyes and placed the books down on one of the side tables next to the couch, which had been serving at his nightstand. “Ma, please.”

“Well, I’m just sayin’ is all,” Ma Egan said defensively, looking up from washing dishes in the kitchen. “Said you were going to the library. Figured you’d be there and back in half an hour or so.”

With an exasperated sigh, John flopped down onto the couch. He wasn’t certain if he could bear even just another day of his mother being overbearing. “Ma, we’re on vacation. I’m almost an adult -” Ma snorted, and John ignored her. “- can you stop hasslin’ me about being a bit longer in town? It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.”

“Now John Egan, I’ve had just about enough of your complaining,” Ma said with a sigh, tossing her washcloth into the sink.

John sat up a little straighter, hands stretched out in front of him, eyebrows raised in confusion. “I haven’t complained once since we got here.”

“Oh yes you have,” Ma Egan said. “Maybe not in so many words, but you’ve been throwing yourself around like a rag doll since you set foot inside this place. Mopin’ about, spendin’ all of your time down at the lake.”

“There’s nothing for me to do here,” John said, and he sounded much whinier than he had meant to. Definitely not an adult.

“Like hell there ain’t,” Ma Egan said, hands on her hips. “Your sister has been makin’ friends up the road, and don’t tell her I ever said it, but you’re far more personable than she is.”

“Ma,” John began, his voice firm and level. “Billie is a kid. There are other kids around. I, your son who is a completely different person, am not a kid. There’s no one my age around here. They’re probably all working jobs. Which is what I wanted to do this summer back home, but you and dad insisted that we all come here. So forgive me for feeling a little bit put out that I’m spending my summer vacation with nothing to do, when I wanted to get a job, make some money for school, and spend time with my friends.”

“And get up to no good,” Ma Egan said quickly.

“Ma -”

“Those boys you pal around with aren’t exactly model citizens.”

“Neither am I,” John muttered, really wishing he had thought to buy a pack of cigarettes while he was in town. He hadn’t thought he would need to take the edge off there, but it was becoming apparent that he would.

“Not if you keep aligning yourself with that lot,” Ma Egan said, stepping into the small living room, cluttered with John’s belongings. “Look, the reason why your father and I insisted that we all come here this summer is that it’ll probably be the last time we all get the chance to.”

“Ain’t no one dyin’, Ma!”

Sighing, Ma sat down next to John on the couch. “John, it ain’t about that. You and your sister are getting older, you’re not going to want to come down here anymore with the whole family. Hell, you already didn’t want to. But next summer you’ll be off to college, or getting a job somewhere, and you won’t be able to make it down. And your father and I aren’t gettin’ any younger.” She paused and reached over, taking one of John’s hands. “Our lives are all going to change one way or another in the coming years, and ain’t nothin’ guaranteed. But we could have this one last time. Some time together. I’m sorry that we dragged you here. But I ain’t sorry that you’re here. You understand me?”

John glanced over at his mother, letting out a small sigh of his own. He loved his family, he did. But he was filled with that sort of unbridled rage that all teenagers feel when they’re on the cusp of adulthood. Even if he couldn’t identify it, quantify it, it was there. He did an excellent job of keeping it to himself for the most part, unless his mother drew it out of him, like she was doing then and there.

He didn’t quite understand her insistence that they all be together at the cottage when they could’ve been together back home. But, agreeing with her in the past had sometimes been a better option than arguing with her, and John couldn’t bear to break her heart with his own teenage angst anymore.

“Yeah, Ma. I understand.”

—

That afternoon, John had found his father, who was working on a truck for one of the newer neighbours up the road. Turns out it had been Billie’s new friend’s father. Billie and Lucia were inside, enjoying some air conditioning and listening to New Kids on the Block, while their two dads stood over the open front hood of the blue Dodge Ram, each holding a beer in their hand. John the Younger managed to lend a hand, which seemed to please his father, who really wanted his son to one day take up the mantle of the family business back home.

John was still undecided if he wanted to be a mechanic or not. In fact, he was still undecided on what he wanted to be at all.

As a thank you, Lucia’s dad suggested they get pizza. John was about to take his leave when Lucia insisted that he stay. John didn’t miss the way that Lucia looked at him, and couldn’t find it in himself to break the girl’s heart, so he agreed. Billie looked equal parts shocked and disgusted, and he later heard her say, “My brother? Seriously? Ew.”

“He’s got a moustache, Billie.”

“Not a good one.”

John was glad he was out of sight, if not out of earshot, rubbing at the hair above his lip absentmindedly. The moustache was a work in progress. He thought it looked just fine. And Deborah Jensen back home in Manitowoc had seemed to be quite fond of it as well.

Lucia’s dad gave him the keys to the newly fixed truck to go pick up the pizzas, and John Sr. reminded him to be on his best behaviour with a truck that wasn’t theirs. John fought the urge to roll his eyes, wanting to be a good guest, and after taking his time to ensure that the mirrors were properly adjusted, hands at ten and two (he knew his dad was watching), John drove ten under the speed limit until he was out of sight.

—

John pulled up to Rush Hour Pizza with a groan, not really in the mood for Gale. He didn’t know why, they’d gotten on well enough that morning. Gale was clearly bored to tears waiting for the pizzas to come out of the oven, so he’d chatted with John from across the restaurant while he ate his sub (it had been really fuckin’ good).

When the bell above the door chimed, Gale popped up seemingly out of nowhere, looking a little bewildered to see John again. “Couldn’t get enough of me?” he asked.

“Very funny,” John said, looking around. The arcade cabinets were abandoned. He supposed it was dinner time, all the neighbourhood kids were probably at home. “I’m just here to pick up a couple of pizzas. My dad’s friend ordered them.”

“Oh yeah. Of course,” Gale said, hands braced against the counter. He paused. “What’s the name?”

John blinked at Gale. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“You don’t know your dad’s friend’s name?”

“... Lucia’s Dad?”

Gale chuckled, shaking his head. “Can’t say I recall taking that order, man.”

John sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay. Well. Are there any orders here?”

“Yeah, a few.” A beat of silence passed between them. “Do you know what he ordered?”

“Pizzas.”

Gale smiled, cocking an eyebrow and folding his arms across his chest. “How in the hell do y’all get by in Manitowoc?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself.”

Still smiling, Gale pulled some receipts from a small pile to his right. “Here. We’ll go through them both together. You tell me if any of the names or orders ring any bells.”

“Doesn’t this violate pizza-client privilege or something?” John asked, leaning over the counter slightly to look at the order slips with Gale.

“That’s not a thing.”

Apparently, all twelve people in town had ordered pizzas for pick up that evening. As Gale rattled off names and orders, John realized that the pizza boy didn’t even know his name. It seemed very unfair that he knew Gale’s.

“I’m John,” he said, interrupting Gale mid-sentence.

Gale glanced up at John, blinking slowly. “Well, all right. Hello John. I’m Gale.”

“I know. You have a nametag.”

Gale glanced down at his chest and smiled. “So I do. Forgot I had that on. Okay, where were we? Carlos -”

“That’s it! What’s his last name?” John interrupted excitedly.

“I was gonna get to that, y’know,” Gale said, looking up at John and smiling. “Navarro.”

“That’s the one!” John said, taking the slip from Gale and looking at the order. “One pepperoni, one meat lovers, and one vegetarian.”

“Coming right up,” Gale said, heading toward the back as John pulled cash out of his wallet.

While John waited for Gale to come back with the pizzas, he craned his neck to look into the kitchen. “Do you work here alone?” he called out.

He heard Gale laugh. “Why? Comin’ back to kill me tomorrow night?” he replied, still hidden in the back.

“Not my style,” John replied. “Just … you’re the only pizza place in town it seems, and it’s just you here. Seems like a lot of work.”

Gale returns to the counter with three boxes of pizzas, setting them down and then taking the cash from John. “I like to keep busy. My dad comes in during the rushes, but once the pizzas are actually in the oven the rest is just … transactions. Making sandwiches and stuff like that.”

“Right,” John said, watching Gale as he rang up his order and handed John back the change. John tossed some into the tip jar. He picked up the pizzas and nodded a thanks to Gale, who nodded one back and tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. John was halfway to the door, before he stopped and turned around. “Gale, what the fuck do people like you and me do around here for fun?”

…

[ivonhart]

a lil teaser for my nanami x fem gojo!reader part 1 to see if ya’ll are liking it so far

if ya’ll want me to continue writing this just know this mf is gonna be LONG - probably my longest post yet

please note that this is not proof read yet so ignore any possible mistakes🧍

if you have any ideas or suggestions please don’t hesitate to comment because this is my first time writing for jjk and it’s characters (if I remember correctly when Satoru was young that mf was a butthole to “weak” people so he’s gonna be a lil bit of a dick sometimes in the flashbacks btw)

enjoy 🔥🔥

-

The day Satoru Gojo was born became a day that would be celebrated for centuries to come in the Jujutsu world. The child born with both the Limitless and Six Eyes was revered almost as if he was a god within the Gojo clan due to the fact it has not happened in over four hundred years. So, when the mother of Satoru claimed to be with child a year later, the expectations were set to the heavens.

Throughout the months, as the mother’s belly grew in size, whispers of what the child would possess filled the halls of the estate. Perhaps, they too, would be blessed with the Limitless and Six Eyes. Two children with the abilities would be a revelation to the world for it had never happened before. But, the moment you opened your eyes it was clear you were…nothing.

You held no ounce of cursed energy and the joy of Satoru’s birth was quickly tainted by yours. And your childhood would hold no good memories to reflect on. Nor any good relationships with those in your clan. Now, you found yourself staring at the entrance to Jujutsu High. Although you lacked cursed energy, your father would never allow you to live a normal life.

“Despite the fact you hold no cursed energy, I will not allow you to be anything other than a sourcer. I don’t care if they make you fight them blind, you will not be anything else.” You weren’t sure why he made you take this path. Maybe he could take credit if you do manage to survive into adulthood. The first sourcer with no cursed energy coming from the Gojo clan would solidify just how strong they were. Or maybe he just sent you here to die. With a sharp inhale you pulled your shoulders back, latched your hands together against your tailbone and walked into the campus.

You were introduced to the two other first-year students after being led to the main building for the start of the tour. The first boy was named Yu Haibara. You took note of his overwhelmingly positive demeanor as he introduced himself. His wide eyes sparkled with a thousand stars and a smile that was almost as bright as the sun. He was so positive, in fact, that it made you uneasy. Never in all your life had you been on the receiving end of such sheer excitement and interest in you and what you did. “Enough, Haibara. You are making her uncomfortable.”

Those were the first words you heard come from the second boy’s mouth since being here. He was somewhat lanky in comparison with blond hair that dropped down his face. After his comment, Haibara was quick to apologize which earned him a simple hum from you. “And you are?”

You asked towards the blond. “Kento Nanami.” You nodded slightly before saying your first name. Haibara’s eyebrow raised. “That doesn’t sound like your surname.” Nanami watched as you stared at him with an almost emotionless expression. Since he first laid his eyes on you he took note at how rigid you presented yourself.

Like if one hair was out of place on your head something bad would happen. And your outfit…despite the heat that hung in the air you were showing no skin aside from your head and hair. Your shirt reaching to the bottom of your chin and your hands covered with gloves with solid tights covering your legs. Everything about you intrigued him.

He didn’t tear his eyes away from you when the second-year students entered the room, resulting in him catching the way your shoulders tensed up. “WELCOME LIL’ SIS!” Haibara’s eyes almost popped out of his head at the sight of Satoru Gojo. Little sister? Was all that ran through Nanami’s mind as he kept an unwavering eye on you. “Wait!” Haibara’s snap towards you. “YOU’RE A GOJO?!” You clenched your jaw…hard at the sight of the white-haired boy.

It was inevitable that you would cross paths with him, but you didn’t think so soon. Satoru sauntered over to you with a black-haired boy and brown-haired girl not far behind before throwing his freakishly long arm across your shoulders. “Suguru. Shoko. This is my little sister.” Ever since Satoru entered his teenage years he decided he only wanted to address you like that. You believed it was just something he would do to get underneath Father’s skin, because you knew Father never allowed him to call you his sister.

You didn’t bother to look at Satoru’s friends as you stepped out from his hold with a sneer. “Don’t call me that.” You bit back in a harsh whisper. Though, you knew the others heard because suddenly the room was filled with a suffocating tension. With a sharp huff and dismissive wave towards Haibara who got close you retreated towards Nanami. As you came closer, the boy noted how your demeanor completely shifted. Your once straight shoulders were slumped in on themselves and your head hung low. As if you were trying to disappear into yourself.

-

The tour went by in a blur and it wasn’t long until you found yourself silently walking alongside Shoko Ieiri towards the girl dorms. She wasn’t like Satoru, she was quiet, but not in the way Suguru Geto was. Not a shy quiet…just a nonchalant quiet. “Soooo…” Shoko’s drawn out ‘o’ echoed throughout the hallway. “Sato–” “Don’t.” Your tone was sharp as you snapped at the upperclassmen. A small smile tugged at her mouth before she responded.

��I don’t think that’s a very appropriate way to speak to your upperclassmen.” She almost regretted the joke she made as she looked back at you. Your eyes were hard as stone, filled with pure hatred at the sheer idea of Satoru Gojo. A sneer pulled at your lips as you clenched your fist together. Truth be told, Shoko was always curious about the younger Gojo.

Satoru would mention you from time to time, but only to drag you down in order to boast about his own powers. “I still can’t believe my father is sending my little sister here. She’s such a weakling! She doesn’t even have cursed energy.” Shoko remembered how he laughed with such glee at your expense. She could only imagine how it was like for you when he still lived at the estate. It was no wonder why you held such hostility towards him. Shoko didn’t need to see much to pick that observation up.

“Just show me to my room and leave me the hell alone.” With a small hum, the girl turned on her heel and resumed walking down the hall. You almost pushed Shoko over to get into your room and without as much as a ‘thank you’ you slammed the door shut. You could feel your chest grow tight with the need to cry. Seeing Satoru after so long brought back memories you wished you could forget.

-

“‘Toruuu, where are we going?” You asked through laughs of glee at the idea of spending time with your older brother. You never saw him much in between your training and you rarely had chances to talk with him. So, when he came into your room and began dragging you, claiming he had a “surprise” you couldn’t fight the joy that filled you. “You’ll see.” You didn’t know at the time that his smile wasn’t one of happiness and his laughs weren’t fueled by joy. He pulled you all the way to an abandoned house within the forest some ways away from your home. “I found this old house.” His sparkling blue eyes shot around the living room as you entered with a cheek-splitting smile. “I thought we could…make it into a little hang out area.” You felt your heart swell at the idea of spending more time with your brother and with quick nods you agreed. “That sounds so fun, big brother!” He turned to you with a large grin. “So, to get started I need you to get something from the cellar out back. The previous owner left some cool stuff that I’d like to use to decorate this place.” Without any fuss you turned tail and raced out towards the cellar. You had no reason to trust your big brother and you wished nothing more than to make him happy. Quickly, you opened the cellar doors but you couldn’t help but hesitate at the unease it sent through your body. The air that came from inside was hot and stuffy, and there was no light at all…but you wanted to make Toru happy. You wanted to make this place your hideaway. So, with a deep breath you descended the stairs in search of a light. BANG! A yelp escaped your mouth at the sound and sudden darkness. Someone closed the cellar doors. “Toru?” You slowly turned around and with your hands in front of you you began walking. “Toru? The door closed!” “Yeah, and it’s staying closed.” His tone took a complete 180. Before you spoke with enthusiasm, but now his words dripped in hatred. “W-What do you mean? Toru, I’m getting scared.” At this point you felt your heart rate speed up and your body heat to spike. You could already feel sweat run down the back of your neck. “You’re nothing but a weakling and I hate weaklings!” Your shin hit the first step up towards the door as you began to cry. Unfortunately for you, your heightened emotions manifested itself into something you had yet to learn existed. And the very first time you ever felt one touch you was when it sank its large claws into your stomach, causing you to let out a blood curdling scream within the darkness of the cellar.

-

hope this peaks someone interest

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities

Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities

Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.

Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.

One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.

All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.

There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.

It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.

“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.

“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”

“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.

Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.

The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.

“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.

Parker loved it, in a weird way.

Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.

It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.

But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.

Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.

Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.

His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?

Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.

Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?

The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.

Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.

Perhaps just a fluke?

The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.

Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.

It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.

The lights flickered again.

It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.

Was there something wrong with the plug?

Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.

It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.

It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.

He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.

He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.

“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.

“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.

“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”

“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.

Still nothing.

“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.

Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.

This one wasn’t solved yet.

For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He had had enough.

Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.

He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.

The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.

Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.

As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.

But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.

He decided to risk it.

It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.

There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.

It felt natural.

The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.

What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.

Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.

The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.

The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.

His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.

Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.

As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.

It was a drill bit.

Flat head.

It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?

I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?

Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.

His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.

Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?

It didn’t seem like her.

Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.

With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.

The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.

It felt, in a word, familiar.

But why?

Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.

What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.

There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.

Was this something his mom did?

Or was this some kind of construction mark?

What was this?

What did it mean?

The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.

There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.

But why?

Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.

Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.

His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.

Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?

Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.

First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[ghostwritermia]

Jegulus x reader request?

Where the reader is also a quidditch player and basically she is in hufflepuff/ravenclaw and their team wins, but one of the boys get mad preferably regulus and reader gets upset james comforts her. Basically angst to fluff

P.s u don't have to do it, I hv been writing a poly moonwater for a week and haven't completed yet. Ik writing is hectic

Lots of Love, babe

Hi Hi! Sorry this took so long. I was in a writing slump...

Anyhoo. Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

totally didn't feed my overdramatic personality into this...

No warnings I can think of? Overthinking? Getting lost in your thoughts? Tears?

Poly!Jegulus x ravenclaw!reader

You were absolutely elated when you found out you had been assigned the captain position.

Sure, you were on a team that normally didn't win, but you were fine with that. You enjoyed the sport, the crowd, the family your team became, the community and environment.

It was the last game of the season and your team had finally won against Slytherin. Earlier in the season you had led your team to victory against Gryffindor. So, with one boyfriend left to beat, you had finally done it today, but apparently it had come with a price to pay.

As you were being crowded and tackled by your team you peeked over your best friend's shoulder, seeing Regulus storming off. And with that, your mood instantly dropped. 

You slipped an easy smile back onto your face as you hugged the rest of your team before slipping off into the changing tent and then back to your common room. 

You understand that Reg wanted to win his last game of the season, you did. But, it was your last game too, and only the second game you had been able to win that season. Shouldn't he be proud of you too?

When you finally made it back to your dorm, you quickly slipped into one of James's shirts (which were huge on you), and a pair of sleep shorts, before curling on in an armchair, pulling your knees to your chest and a blue fuzzy blanket up to your chin.

You didn't know how long you sat there. You also didn't know when James had slipped into the room, not even realizing he was there until he gently wiped tears away from under your eyes with the pads of his thumbs.

You startled, eyes lifting to meet his, to see sorrow swimming in his gaze. “You just gotta give him time, darling. You know how he gets about these things, he’ll come around.” James swiftly picks you up and takes your place in the armchair before resting you back into his lap.

You sighed, curling into his side, resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. “I know, it’s just hard sometimes.” You sniffle into his shirt, and he tugs you tighter against him.

“He will come around darling, I promise.” He says, leaving a gentle kiss to the top of your hair.

You lose track of time as you get comfortable, cuddling into James (stealing all of his warmth), yet he doesn’t complain. You smile into his shoulder as he starts running his fingers through your hair. You playfully bite his shoulder; he tugs on a strand of your hair in reprimand.

You had started to doze off when the door creaked open and James spotted Regulus’s head peek in. He gently tapped your shoulder and when he had gotten your attention, pointed to Regulus.

Your gaze met the stormy gray of Regulus’s before you looked away, finding a loose thread of your blanket far more interesting.

“Mon Amour, I’m so so sorry.” Regulus rushes over to you, crouching down in front of you. “My mind blanked, and I didn’t think before I walked away, and I’m so sorry.” He grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before running his thumb along the back of it.

You frown, your eyebrows scrunching and slide out of James’s lap and onto the floor next to Reg. “It’s okay, my love. I understand what it’s like to have loads of pressure on your shoulders, I do too. It can overwhelm you at any moment; sometimes it can even come when we don’t want it too and take control of our actions.” You say wisely. “You had a moment, it happens to the best of us. You may be a wizard, but you are still a human. Bound to make mistakes for the rest of your life,” You remind dramatically, talking with your hands. Regulus laughs, his eyes lighting up again and grabs your hands, holding them stationary.

“I’m glad that you forgive me, mon amour, but you are over dramatic.” Your boyfriend dressed in green states.

You scoff as James slides down from the chair to sit with the two of you on the floor. “I love this make-up session you two are having, but you both are full of crap.” He tugs you both into his sides, one arm wrapped around each of you.

Regulus turns his head, biting James’s hand as you dramatically raise your hand before swatting him on the back of his head.

James quickly pulls his hand away from Regulus, retracting his hold from the two of you and holds the back of his head. “Hey!” You both turn your head and blink at him feigning innocence. “This is not attack James day.” 

He smiles, teeth flashing. You dramatically cover your eyes, faking passing out; falling back from your sitting position and onto your back. “Ah, too bright. Can’t see. James you’re blinding me, can’t you see? Because I sure can’t.”

“Regulus was right. You are so over dramatic.” James rolls his eyes before leaning towards you and pulling your hands away from your eyes and pulling you into him.

“I. Am. Not.” You pout, crossing your arms and leaning out of James’s embrace.

Regulus leans towards you smiling and kisses your forehead. “Yes you are.” He whispers, tackling you to the ground, tickling your sides. “You are dramatic, and I love you for it.” You grin and Regulus gives you a skeptical glance as you turn and smile at James.

Before Reg could blink he was pinned down to the ground; roles reversed. James had his arms pinned to the ground as you straddled his hip, returning the attack of tickles that he had been serving you.

“You lose, Reggie.” You state in a sing-song voice, giggling.

[robyn-i-guess]

gerrymichael enjoyers and writers i want your opinion 🎤

ok so i have this au fic for gerrymichael where it's college au, and it's a like the whole bad boy/good girl (minus the fact they're both boys, and even that's questionable)

basically, gerry is stereotyped due to his more alternative looks and everyone assumes he's probably doing illegal things or just sleeps around a lot

meanwhile michael is the head of student council "goody two shoes" type, who most are sort of aware of but don't know anything about

gerry thinks about michael. a lot. he sees them in the halls for only a few seconds a day but thinks about him for a lot longer. hallway crush vibes. and when they get put into a painting class together, suddenly they have an opportunity to meet, and gerry is freaking out a usual amount. (there's more to the whole plot but that's just the beginning bit)

putting a short lil concept thing under the cut

Gerard Keay does not know Michael Shelley.

The only reason he knows their name is because they're in the student council, meaning it's not uncommon for their name to be said during school events.

He has only seen them in hallways, passing by in a rush while holding papers or books that always seem like they're going to fall out of their hands. Even in those moments, most of what Gerard is able to catch is a blur of golden curls and eyes that are ridden with exhaustion.

So, it is safe to say that he does not know Michael.

That fact only caused confusion to him whenever Gerard realized his strange excitement once learning that Michael would be in one of his classes for the semester.

It was an art class, one that he had picked due to him already being practiced is painting and drawing. He assumed it would be a fun class, or at least one that wouldn't be too stressful. However, when he had first walked into that classroom and saw Michael Shelley sitting at an area in the back, Gerard had assumed the emotion he was feeling was stress. He couldn't pinpoint why, it wasn't like he was intimidated by their status, but he couldn't shake the feeling of nervousness he felt when he accidentally locked eyes with them. He turned his head quickly in that moment, deciding to sit in the front of the room despite that not being where he'd usually prefer to be. Something about Michael sitting there made Gerard think twice about sitting in the back as he normally would.

The lecture went smoothly, it mostly being an introduction to the professor and what would be happening throughout the classes. So did the next, and then the next one after that. That didn't get rid of the feeling he felt, however, every time that Gerard walked into that room and attempted to avoid looking at the one with golden curls in the back. He knew he'd have to talk to them at some point, it was inevitable, but there was something about them that meant he was more nervous to talk to them than he usually would be. And he very much denied the idea that it could be caused by any... feelings he may have. Gerard ruled it as impossible, as he had never spoken to them, and he wasn't that much of an idiot to fall for someone he'd only mostly seen in hallways.

Michael wasn't one to speak up in class, and instead they'd work silently on any research on the history of art they may have been doing, only giving simple responses or nods when the professor would come around and ask how their work was coming along. When Gerard thought about it, he didn't really know what their voice sounded like because it was always quiet or unintelligible from their distance. That only made him more interested in talking to them.

That day never came, though, much to Gerard's disappointment.

They both went through that class without talking to each other once, and when Gerard left that room for the last time he couldn't help but feel like he had failed at some kind of goal. A failure that had meant he would be left with only seeing the elusive Michael Shelley in hallway rushes again, which annoyed him in a way he didn't understand.

He did talk to them one day, though.

(note this is old as heck lmao i've gotten better at writing since i wrote this)

anyways yeah. should i continue it or is it too basic idk, i want to write it for me but it would also be multiple chapters long and my "1k-words-is-rare-for-me" self probably won't bother to write it unless someone else is interested

[tsxmu]

My thoughts on Levi's up coming bad boy one shot and his love life. :3

Now personally! I feel like he shouldn't have a love interest in the oneshot. Not because like I don't want to share him or stuff like that, but because that would kinda throw away all the levihan hints they gave us. Hell, it's most likely canon.

I understand that it's set during Levi's early childhood, teenage years and early adulthood but that would still kinda ruin the whole premise of Levi and how he lived. It's quite literally shown he didn't have any interest in anybody other than furlan and isabel, they were his only family. I doubt he'd find himself a crush down there.

The underground was a time where the only thoughts in Levi's mind was to survive. It was no place to fall in love and shit like that, given how in the manga for no regrets, even when given the choice to have a woman or anything from some man's store, he prefers taking something (specifically tea) from the store after winning the arm wrestling match.

Link to it::

Next, if Levi were to have some sort of love interest or crush during his youth, I feel like it would at least be mentioned once, it could be when he was still with furlan and isabel, but there's nothing. It could also be a situation like erwin's and marie's where nile got to her first because erwin chose humanity. But it seems unlikely. Erwin, still, cares about marie and talks about her. And if Levi liked somebody, given his big ol heart, surely he'd ask about this love interest at least once right??

If anything, romantically, Levi quite literally only has eyes for one person, which is hange. I'd argue it's canon. Levi is constantly worried about them, during countless battles together, he first thought of hange and their safety, he makes sure hange keeps themselves alive, he listens to hange and their hours long rambles, he even asked moblit, in the short story, to keep hange safe because he's the only one around them 24/7.

I get that he can have a first love, but he was feared and hated upon during his youth by the people in the underground, I highly doubt some woman is going to find that hot. Levi was dangerous, and people in the undergrounds knew that, yeah sure some people still fought them but humans are like that. Always biting more than they can chew.

I firmly believe Levi's first and last love was hange. I'm sorry to the eruri shippers but I see their relationship as only blinded loyalty from Levi's side and comradery/deep friendship due to their years in the military together. But at the end, erwin wanted him in the beginning for Levi's strength.

Hange on the other hand, always viewed Levi like a person, not a tool, not a thug, nor a person to be afraid of. Levi's first normal interaction above ground was with hange and how casually they greeted him, furlan and isabel while the rest of the corps were still weary of them.

There are countless scenes with him and hange, countless.

I'd say Levi and Hange have the kind of love and bond in the manga that nobody else can have. Not even eren and mikasa.

Hange and Levi's relationship was built on years of comradery and trust. They know each other well and only have each other. Even when erwin was alive, Levi knew more about hange than he knew about erwin, so much so that he knew how they knocked. Now, we can assume he knows erwin's knock too, but we've only been shown to see him recognize hange's knock. The two literally talk telepathically for gods sake!!! They just look at each other and understand! I don't remember seeing anybody else having that deep of a bond.

After reclaiming wall Maria, Levi was always by hange because they're all he has left and he's usually by their left side because hange can no longer see from that eye, it's a disadvantage and it anything were to go past them or attack them, it'd be from the left and Levi knows that, that's why he places himself to their left whenever possible.

Even during the end, he shows hange emotions that he's never shown anybody else. He's said things to them that nobody else has seen. He quite literally hands over his heart and gives it to hange to keep. He's seen holding back tears and holding onto the hand that last touched hange, knowing they'd never return back to him.

And even after that, in every shot of after the war, he's always thinking of hange, whether it's looking at the plane that they were last in, or the lollipops, or the glasses he holds. He's always thinking of them because they're all he had.

I feel like both Ackerman's chose to stay single because they lost their brunettes. They lost the one they loved most in the line of duty and will never move on from it because they know they're soulmates.

Both ackerman's wanted a peaceful life with their brunette but they couldn't. Not in this lifetime at least.

Which is why I humbly believe having a short love interest for the sake of nothing in the bad boy's manga would kind of ruin all that Levi has! It fits if he has only one love and even that he can't have because life is just that cruel. A short love interest would be useless and would only cause heated arguments between shippers and even send death threats to the creator, so for the sake of everybody, I sure to do hope there's no love interest for Levi in his one shot. We already know who his soulmate is, there's no reason to drag another character in just so the fandom can hate it for a reason as silly as "Levi's inlove with them."

To anybody who read all of this, thank you so much (❁´◡`❁). That means alot!!!

[stranger-fucking-danger]

this is oliver coded

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lap Pillow

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[sysig]

The familiarity is not very comforting (Patreon)

[rosethrorn]

I’m just

My math teacher was talking about his sneakers and how he got them from Jimmy Butler because he trained in my school’s gym one summer a few years ago while living in my city and he and his crew or whatever bought our girls basketball team a new set of Nike sneakers

The one thing I had to say about that whole thing- THE ONE DAMN THING- was, “Oh. That Guy. He was in the new Fall Out Boy music video!” And my math class fell dead silent and I was just like 😶

[heresronnie21]

Not to be a hater but where did the trend of shipping apollo with teenage characters esp jason/nico/percy come from? I mean it gives me an incredible amount of ick but that's fine I know where the block button is, but like did u not read the same books as me? Did apollo's arc fly over your head? Did u just skip the part where he let go of his past mistakes in romance and realised he didn't need a partner to fix him or make him worthy of love? Where he showed us his flirty persona was just a cover for his loneliness and isolation, especiallyfrom the other olympians? Where he learnt his worth by building a community?? Where he found solace in his friends and his children and especially meg?? Where he realised he didn't need a partner to fix him