#finally continuing this fic series!

[duskyashe]

CAMP NANO DAY 1

Calling All The Monsters part 4 chapter 1

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Jason was more than ready to get this over with. Unlike the others, he'd known he wasn't fully human for years, pretty much ever since he'd come back from the dead. Looking back on it, he'd even known the others were slowly changing, too, he just hadn't had the words. He hadn't known there even were words for the feeling of slowly finding his footing among others that were just as inhuman as himself. Well, other than relief.

As soon as Dick confirmed when and where the kid was willing to host tutoring sessions for all of them ("He said he wanted to work with each of us individually, first, but that he was willing to work with groups of up to three at a time if B was more comfortable with that," Dick said with a thoughtful frown, cowl held loosely in one hand. "Personally, I think the first meeting should definitely be two of us, but the rest should be played by ear, but it's your call, B,") Jason was nearly vibrating out of his own skin in anticipation. Answers to all his questions about himself, from his first fully conscious thought after his dip in the Pits to a reaction he'd had to something just last Tuesday, were just out of his reach and he could feel his frustration and impatience building in the back of his throat. Grimacing, he swallowed the urge to vocalize his feelings before taking a deep breath. It was only an hour more before Condor and Starling would be meeting up with their new tutor, he could hold out that much longer. He could.

"You alright there, Jay?" Steph asked as she entered the cave. Her long blonde hair was braided tightly against the crown of her head in preparation for getting in costume.

He shakily let out the breath he'd taken and nodded in her direction. "Just anxious," he said, meticulously going over his guns yet again. He was mostly suited up, himself, just needing to mask up and slip his gloves on. He'd initially had his gloves on, but cleaning his guns was easier and more grounding barehanded, so off they'd come.

She gave him a searching look. "You really believe Phantom, don't you?" Steph asked after a moment.

Jason paused his movements and let out a sigh. "Yeah. Yeah, I do," he replied, setting his cleaning rag to the side and finally looking directly at her instead of just from the corner of his eye. "Look, I'm pretty sure it was fairly obvious to B, Dick, and Alfie, and maybe Tim saw it, too, but I didn't come back from death the same as I was before. And I don't mean "the trauma of my death changed me"," he said with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at the same time. "I mean I literally didn't come back fully human. At the latest, I've known I wasn't fully human since shortly after everything that happened with Tim, but it's far more realistic to say I've known, at least on some level, ever since I first came out of the Pit." Jason sighed and ran a hand through the tuft of white hair that liked to fall into his eyes. "Looking back, almost every single fight between me and another member of the family, except Damian, started because I either misunderstood something someone said or took insult where none was meant, because I reacted based on instinct and emotion first instead of logic, and while I've gotten better at thinking crap through before I respond, interactions between all of us for the past year and a half have been noticeably less tense and have resulted in a lot less bloodshed. That's not all on me, and neither is it all on the Demon Spawn finally starting to get a clue."

"Alright," Steph said, the gears in her head almost visibly turning. "Putting aside you knowing years ahead of us that it was possible to start out human and end up not, what do you mean by almost every fight between you and a different family member except Damian? Are you saying the fights between you two were that different than all the others?"

He blinked at the blonde in incredulity for a moment. "Steph… Damian's from a warrior culture," he said slowly, praying he didn't need to spell it out for her. She just blinked blankly back at him and he let out a soft curse under his breath. No luck. "Out of the entire family, only four of us have been trained by the League of Assassins, and B didn't exactly keep up with the cultural practices after his stay with them. Cass may have picked up on a lot of those practices from her sperm donor and whatever other trainers he allowed her to train under, but she didn't have all of them and didn't really understand what she had picked up or how to actually apply it. I was the only one who, in Damian's eyes at the time, was cultured and spoke a familiar language. He saw me as someone who was reliable, and a part of me saw him in a similar light due to my own experiences with the League right after my resurrection. Fights with the Demon Spawn were more like training spars while fights with pretty much everyone else were basically honor duels." How has this not come up before now? Are the others just as clueless about this crap? Jason wanted to shake some common sense into some of his siblings, maybe scream a little in frustration. If the only ones who knew anything accurate about his and Damian's relationship were literally just the two of them, he was going to be so disappointed in his family…

Steph looked like she was going to say something more on the subject when Bruce and Babs entered the cave, Babs heading to the Batcomputer while Bruce walked over to the two of them.

"I had a feeling you two would still be down here. Steph, go get changed, I'll help you with your hair pins before you head out, okay?" Bruce asked. Steph gave a sloppy salute and skipped off to the changing rooms, though Jason could tell she wasn't going to let their conversation drop that easily. Bruce took a moment to watch Steph go, and Jason got back to cleaning his guns as he waited for his father Bruce to say his piece. "Are you alright, Jaylad? You usually aren't this anxious before an op, especially an information gathering one like this."

Jason finished rubbing down the last part that needed attention before quickly reassembling his guns. "At the beginning, back when the Demon Spawn first came to live with us, did any of his interactions with the family stand out as different to you?" Jason asked instead. He switched to checking his hidden ammo pouches, making sure everything was topped off. He wasn't expecting a fight tonight, but he needed something to keep his hands occupied.

A hand, scarred and familiar, caught his attention as it came to rest on his own. "I've always known yours and Damian's relationship was special to both of you. You both got each other in ways the others are still trying to understand. And yes, I'm aware a large part of that is due to your time with the League, I'm not as blind to your dealings with your siblings as you all seem to think I am," Bruce said with a chuckle. He brought his other hand up to gently raise Jason's head, making eye contact soon after. "I'm grateful you were able to give Damian a small slice of his first home when I couldn't, Jason. While I wish neither of you had ever been in the situations that lead to you both being with the League, I'm grateful those experiences were able to bring you two closer together as brothers."

He stared at Bruce in shock for a moment before clearing his throat and looking away. "Damn it, B, warn a man before you bring out the emotion talk," he said, stalwartly pretending his eyes weren't misty.

Jason saw Bruce smile out the corner of his eye as his father patted his shoulder with the hand that had been on his cheek. "My bad, sorry about that. Finish getting ready then meet by the Batcomputer for a quick briefing," he said before walking away.

As Jason finished checking his ammo pouches and slid his gloves back on, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the faint, almost tangible, warmth in his chest. Things had really changed in the past year and a half, and for the better, at that.

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Danny was both excited and nervous for what this evening would entail. He'd been obsessively going over everything he'd ever been taught about the various non-human beings that called Earth and its various pocket dimensions home in preparation for this night. He didn't know who he was meeting with first, nor did he know how many of Batman's clan he was meeting with, so he and his Fright had probably gone a bit overboard with potential lesson plans. He just wanted to give the Bats a good first lesson about their various species and the instincts and abilities that are a part of them.

He was waiting at the rooftop shrine where he met with Raven, once more sitting cross-legged about a foot above the roof. It had been almost two weeks since he and Raven had set up these lessons, and he was eager to get started. The current plan was that for the initial lessons, if everything worked out during this first one, Danny would be meeting each publicly known member of the Batclan at that exact shrine for basically what boiled down to essentially bookwork before eventually moving on to hands-on training with their current and future abilities at a different, more secure location. He had to admit, it was a pretty good system for having been developed at the drop of the hat between two beings who didn't even know each other yet.

A sudden burst of flame on the corner of the roof drew Danny's attention to Condor's arrival. Y'know, Danny thought with eyes wide with awe as the hooded form of Condor stalked out of the fire with a predatory grace, little tendrils of fire chasing after him, if we'd known Condor literally appeared in a burst of flames at times, lich would have been the last thing we thought of. It's so freaking obvious he's a phoenix that in hindsight I feel like an idiot.

The faint rustle of feathers against fabric had him turning around just in time to see Starling drop down from on top of the shrine and land in a stooped crouch, feather headdress flowing in the breeze as her head tilted ever so sightly to the side, the hood of her own costume shading her face enough to make the florescent red lenses of her full face mask stand out starkly.

"We aren't late, are we?" A soft, almost lyrical voice asked from behind Danny, brimming with power and potential but holding nothing but eagerness and nervousness. Condor's voice was most definitely masculine, but it was almost impossible to tell if it were tenor, baritone, or bass as it seemed to be all of them at once. It was captivating and bone chilling all at once.

Danny looked over his shoulder, more sure in his assumptions of the species of these two vigilantes than ever before. "Not at all, you're right on time. Shall we begin?"

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HEY EVERYONE!!! So sorry for the wait, I meant to get this chapter finished and published back in May, but, well... That obviously didn't happen (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ also, you may have noticed something different about this part (⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠) yes, that's right, part 4 of this series has been broken into chapters!!! This will mainly come into play on AO3, as part 4 will be a multi chapter fic over there (as well as actually have a title (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）) but I thought it was important to acknowledge it here, too!

#camp nano 2023 day 1 #camp nanowrimo 2023 #danny phantom #batman #dpxdc #finally continuing this fic series! #fanfiction #Calling All The Monsters part 4 chapter 1

[chenziee]

A Comprehensive list of my outsider POVs or; a list of people who have Suffered™

NAMI - Good friends (don't) kiss + Revelations (we could do without)

PENGUIN - A Burst of colour (happy birthday)

SMOKER - Just a quick supply run

NPC - Boyfriends (do) kiss

LAW - See no evil (zosan)

BEPO - This is my BDSM dungeon

COBY - Not so bad

USOPP - The (s)we(e)t taste of revenge (lawlu, zosan)

KID - At the bottom of the sea

CAESAR - Minding his own evil business

SHACHI - Please don't ask + The Power of the revolutionary army top executive

ABSALOM - HIRED! (icepaulie), 'WHITE KNIGHT' CAVENDISH IN TROUBLE?! (bartocav)

PEDRO - Bringing dawn

SANJI - Princess Monster

YAMATO - Drastic Measures

BIG NEWS MORGANS - World Economic Journal: Grand Line Edition

ONIGIRI - Hopeless

ACE & SABO - Menace

KOTATSU - The Plight of the (not) house cat

NDA, WIP, planned:

NDA

Tate

Jinbe

Yamato

Sanji

NDA

Honorable mention: not in his POV but SENGOKU suffered the most hands down - Take out as in on a date, right?

#one piece #lawlu #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #luffy #monkey d luffy #opfanfic #lawlu fanfic #outsider pov #zosan #icepaulie #katie pretends to fic #everything is lawlu unless stated otherwise #i honestly thought i did more but then again #i do have a bunch planned and/or ready to go live.. #this post will be continually undated btw #three of the NDAs are gonna be revealed pretty soon too #which one is your favourite? #i have a soft spot for the until we drown series so At the Bottom of the sea is like. right there #but i have to admit i might like Take out as in on a date right? the most #tho it's not really outsider pov.. #so At the bottom of the sea or The sweet taste of revenge.. #tho i do like bringing dawn for different reasons #and Minding his own evil business was so much fun to write #ceasar is so slept on #he was a great crew pet #ahh idk #so glad i can finally say i can't decide which fic i love most instead of 'which one i hate the least' ahahaha

[soleilnomoon]

acrimony ; eren x reader.

8.4k words, fem reader, college au, angst-fest, nsfw, 18+ mdni; a mysterious group appears! also a wild jean & connie; oral (f receiving), a lil fingering, brief violence (nothing major, but mention of death/murder), stalking, eren almost forgets himself & y/n keeps trying everyone's patience.

chapter 03 of the enfin, je me réveille series. masterlist | previous ⤸ | next ⤹ taglist: ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ @strawhatsoraya x @berriesandcrem x @simpbutapimp x @littlemochi

/ ACT x I /

at approximately three in the morning, rain violently descends on violet city, heavy wind and thunder keeping the usual nighttime miscreants off the streets. the city’s infrastructure, unsurprisingly, certainly isn’t built for this sort of weather, especially with the proximity to the river. despite the promises from politicians each election cycle, they routinely ignore the plights of their constituents that are on the outskirts of paradis. besides, they don’t actually care if anyone lives or dies there. however, whenever a major crime is committed, paradis police department begrudgingly steps in to assist, proving useless as ever whenever they’re involved in those sorts of investigations.

several police cars partially block off the main intersection closest to 163rd and canal street. the lights flash obnoxiously, only amplified by the rain, red and blue blinding anyone who passes by. apparently, the cacophonous sounds from the sirens make the officers feel safer somehow. 

some of the officers shift uneasily, wary as they eye the scene before them. this is the eighth body they’ve found in the same location this month. they don’t bother identifying the person, nor do they bother collecting evidence; all of the newbie officers are instructed to dispose of the body. so they do; by hoisting it into the river and, quite literally, wash their hands of the situation.

at the top of an adjacent building, a figure in all black stands near the ledge, watching the scene unfold through a pair of binoculars equipped with night vision. they chew a sandwich loudly, not caring that the rain has made the bread soggy. a voice echoes in their ear and they wince, hating the way the bluetooth earpiece is so damn loud sometimes.

“did you get that, rose?” the voice is somewhat staticky, making rose wince all over again, agitation etched all over their features, pert mouth fixed into a frown.

“shut up, celeste, i’m workin’. damn.” rose was in fact working, just not that hard. “i can’t concentrate with you blabbing like that. do you ever stop talkin’?” now their mealtime was ruined.

after stuffing the remainder of the sandwich in their mouth, rose carefully pulls out a waterproof camera, the lens powerful enough to capture crisp images from afar. because of the government’s insistence on not properly assisting the citizens in violet city, they’ve also spent an inordinate amount of time and effort to thoroughly — and successfully — convince the people of paradis that violet city is mostly just a dingy fixer-upper sort of area where shady individuals do business. 

naturally everyone in paradis sleeps well at night, indulging in their willful ignorance as they consume the lies happily. 

celeste lets out a huff, which only serves to aggravate rose further. “remember, you—”

with a loud, dramatic sigh, rose mimics celeste’s previous words, “‘remember, you need to take pictures of everything’...yeah, yeah, who the fuck cares about this anyway.” 

the joke did not go well, and celeste berates rose for several long minutes — about the importance of the mission, reminding rose of their organization’s creed, of the oath they all took to expose any and all evidence of injustice, to take down those in power and construct a new form of government with the people in charge. as rose glances around the streets below, they detect movement again. 

“hey, she just got out of work, we need to hurry.” it’s unusual for rose to be this alert or to be cognizant of the ongoings around them. “is blue gonna be able to pull this off?” they had their doubts, but they were all chosen for a reason.

“have faith. blue always pulls through, you know that.” leave it to celeste to take up for her friend. not that it matters; there were no friends in this line of work, rose found out the hard way years ago. still, they took celeste’s words to heart.

with a roll of their eyes, rose adds, “fine, i’m done here anyway. tell jade to cut the power to the city, or else she’s gonna make it back before blue can finish.”

/ FIRST x INTERMISSION /

rain splatters softly on the windows of the taxi cab, traffic backed up along the strip — the bridge to paradis temporarily out of commission. you slink lower into the backseat, annoyed and exhausted. you have class later and almost consider walking back, but it would take you hours and you don’t have it in you to suffer like that just yet. you got out of work a little later than usual because they were short staffed, but it works to your advantage; you double your tips, your purse heavier because of it. 

“sorry, miss,” the cab driver says, looking at you through the rearview mirror, apologetic as he puts the car in park, “don’t know how long the bridge will be out of use. do you have anywhere else you can go?”

chewing on your bottom lip, you consider his question; a part of you wants to tell him that you don’t have anywhere else to go, but you know that’s not true. not really. after agonizing over your choices, you give him an address to an apartment complex nearby. he narrows his eyes slightly, mouth opening to ask if you’re sure you want to go to this exact location, but you’re already looking out the window again and don’t want to be bothered.

arms wrapped around yourself, you start to worry about whether or not it’s a good idea to visit, especially this late at night. surely your sister won’t mind, right?

you laugh bitterly, hands flying to your hair, fingers tangling in your pink curls, tugging at the ends nervously. there’s no reason for you to feel anxious, except — your sister doesn’t exactly like you, and while you have an idea why that might be, she won’t openly admit to that being the reason. the cab cuts around the traffic to turn onto a nearby avenue, driving through the darkened streets, jazz music playing softly on the radio, triggering an unpleasant memory from your childhood that you force back down with great effort.

“stupid,” you mumble to yourself, crossing your legs, foot bouncing, “so stupid.” everything is. you hate that you can’t even sit still during the car ride, fiddling with things inside your purse, fussing over your hair, picking at your manicured nails. a voice in the back of your mind tells you to chill the fuck out, so you do; inhaling through your nose deeply, you try to relax, heart still beating a little faster than necessary but that’s just how life goes for you.

within ten minutes, the cab pulls up to a dilapidated apartment, the building clearly not up to code — but it’s sufficiently passable by violet city standards — but you’re not here to judge, you’re there to hang out until the bridge opens back up. the cab driver lingers a bit, even after you start walking towards the building.

“hey, if you need a ride, i can come back in a bit.” 

it was a nice of him, and you probably should take him up on his offer, but you don’t know how long you’ll be so you decline. “thank you, i’ll be fine.”

he hesitates, but ultimately respects your decision and drives off. you roll your neck before making the trek indoors, hating how every time you visit the elevator is always out and you have to take the stairs. rather than risk busting your ass, you pull off your heels and walk barefoot, up several flights of stairs until you reach your sister’s place. 

loud voices drift into the desolate corridor, the floor is filthy, so you quickly put your shoes back on, hating how despite being away for years, memories keep berating you nonstop, making the walk that much more difficult. your throat constricts as you try to steady your breathing, goosebumps prickling your skin, forcing you to pause and gather yourself before you continue. for some reason, you feel a pair of eyes on you; you look around cautiously, feet moving faster, carrying you towards the end of the corridor to the last door on the right. slate gray paint chips pitifully off of the wooden door, and you don’t bother knocking because you know the door usually is open. 

again, you feel as if someone is watching you, but when you look over your shoulder you’re met with the echoes of the surrounding units and shadows from the dim lights above. 

you’re just a little on edge and tired, your mind must be playing tricks on you. that’s what you tell yourself as you walk inside and shut the door behind you. a loud screech accompanied by incoherent babbling in the kitchen, the dull sounds from the tv off to the side in the makeshift living room, toys all over, clothes draped everywhere — possibly clean, possibly questionable you don’t know — pots, pans, assortment of plates and silverware, piled high in the sink. the place is in need of a deep clean and a makeover, but you know that your sister works odd, but long hours. she barely has time to take care of herself, let alone manage her own home — and with two kids, it’s even more difficult.

naturally, you find your dad passed out on the sofa, a can of beer in his left hand, the remote for the tv in his right. he’s snoring, drool dried on his chin, his mustache crusted with what seems like marinara sauce. nose wrinkling, you turn the tv off and leave him be. 

because you know it’ll be a while before you can get back to campus, you tend to your nephew who has been left unattended to play alone.

“hi, sweetie,” you coo gently, picking him up and nuzzling your face against his plump cheek. “you’re too cute for your mommy, how about you come back with me, hm?” you’re joking, clearly; your nephew clings to you, tugging on your hair playfully, and you toss him up and down before you realize your sister has been standing nearby watching. eyes sharp as ever, narrowed into slits, lips pressed tightly together, your older sister is a force to reckon with. her severe and austere nature is what sets you apart; she thinks your dreams are foolish, you think she should dream a little bit more.

“what are you doin’ here, y/n? didn’t i tell you to not come back?” 

her words cut into you deep enough to make you give your nephew back to her. 

“the bridge is out, i won’t be here long.” your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, softer than normal, this timid version of yourself is one that you keep hidden from everyone else. but your sister always sees through you; always.

turning on the faucet, you get started on the dishes. your sister grumbles in the background, drifting into the kitchen to find something for her son to eat. “you’re always tryin’ to clean some shit every time you come here.”

“i’m just trying to help,” you say as you scrub each pot diligently. “also, it helps keep my mind quiet.”

she tuts in response, but doesn’t say anything else, leaving you to your own devices. your fingers prune by the end of it, but at the very least the sink is free. you work on the counters next, wiping down the surfaces carefully, removing residual crumbs, scrubbing away stains, making sure to keep it clean enough for your sister to be able to use without issue. two hours later, you’re leaning against the counter, admiring the work you put in. the floor isn’t sparkling per se, but it’s pretty good for how it looked before.

“you’re still here?” your sister’s voice has you standing up straighter, the hardened edge in her words makes you move away from her path, letting her occupy the space you were previously in.

you check the time on the clock and groan; it’s almost six. you really should go. you’re not one to stay for longer than you’re wanted, so you dig around your purse and pull out a wad of cash.

“just wanted to say hello and leave this.” you actually didn’t come to give her money, but you realize that you haven’t been by in months and your dad doesn’t work anymore… it’s the only thing that makes sense for you right now.

her dark brown eyes land on yours — startlingly similar in shade — critical and unamused with your flippant attitude. “don’t want it, don’t need it.” she’s being stubborn and ridiculous, so you press the issue.

“god damn it, amara, stop being so annoying, shit.” you speak quickly, voice dropping so you don’t wake the kids—or your dad, for that matter. “you can do whatever you want with it, i’m not taking it back.”

in one fluid motion, you snatch your purse off of the counter and leave her apartment. surely by now the bridge is back up and running, so you call for another ride to take you back to campus. the rain disappeared while you were intruding in your sister’s place; you know you won’t be able to go back there for another few months, lest you incur the wrath of your older sister. 

there are a couple of hours until your first class — it’ll be another sleepless night for you. the drive back is relatively short; most of that traffic from earlier has cleared, and you can travel across the bridge safely. your lids lower, fatigue battering into you — relentless, spiteful — but, then that you belatedly remember that you’re also going to be seeing eren later for tutoring. 

the groan you let out is louder than necessary.

“oh, fuck my entire life,” you say, face buried in your hands as you tilt your head up, complaints spilling out of your mouth for the duration of your ride back to campus.

/ ACT x II /

the brisk autumn air is enough to keep most of the students at paradis college in bed for a little while longer. with the campus effectively void of life, a tall figure in all black attire strolls languidly through the quad. a large, thick envelope in their gloved hands, a white mask plastered to their skin, completely obscuring their face. there are crescent shaped cut outs for the eyes and mouth — together forming a sinister and creepy grin, the expression every bit as soulless as it is unsettling. 

pausing on their trek, they pull out their phone and check the time; a sigh floats out of their mouth; twenty minutes left, if they finish quickly they might be able to grab some c—

“hey, fuckface, are you listening to me??” an obnoxious voice echoes in their ear, cutting their thoughts off.

voice muffled due to the mask, they sigh again — their response is silence, which only pisses the other person off.

“oh, fuck you, man,” he says hotly, before letting off more expletives. “seriously, blue, you need to fucking focus.” 

what a phenomenal idea — blue quickly taps the earpiece and mutes him. 

invigorated by that thought, they make it to the dorms that house the upperclassmen rather quickly, climbing the nearby staircase two steps at a time. once they reach the seventh floor, they tap the earpiece again to tune back into the conversation.

“you muted me for too damn long,” the voice says calmly, the brief moment of reprieve clearly being the most effective tactic blue has for dealing with him.

“silver…” blue says suddenly, voice low, slightly monotone, gloved hands digging into one of the many pockets of their bag, pulling out several slender tools.

“what. blue?”

walking down the corridor, boots echoing softly, feet carrying them dutifully until they spot the room in question. 707. “found it,” blue says absently, not bothering to check their surroundings before playing around with the lock.

“do you want a god damned cookie or something?”

a grunt of approval has silver shrieking on his end. once again, blue mutes him and continues picking the lock. it only takes a minute, and they’re careful — not letting the door swing too wide or close too loudly.

as they look around the room — the furniture is basic, cheap, second-hand most likely; it’s more than obvious that this is the room of a scholarship student, they tell themself, taking in the various stacks of textbooks, the balled up pieces of notebook paper, the hamper that’s overflowing with clothes. they place the envelope on the bed, making sure to position it properly on the fluffy pillow.

when they tune back in, silver is in the middle of a rant. “finally, shit. what is wrong with you?”

humming quietly, blue places their backpack onto the desk and rummages through it. “i’m workin’,” they say belatedly, further pissing silver off.

“i know you’re working, i’m working too, in case you forgot.” and before blue can offer a rebuttal, silver continues his diatribe. “make sure to set up all the cameras. don’t leave anything out.”

“obviously,” blue says out loud, ignoring silver’s frustrated grunt on the other end, their slender fingers gripping the tiny camera gently and scanning the area to see where they can stash it.

“we need to have eyes on her at all times, so hide them well.” 

blue makes a two-fingered salute to the air — not that silver can see it — and places six of the cameras around the room. once done, silver connects to them and gives blue confirmation. “good, now get the fuck out of there, she’ll be on campus soon.” 

after cleaning off the surfaces that they touched, blue gathers the rest of their supplies, ignoring silver’s babbling as they pick up a pink, glittery hair tie with a small butterfly on it.

“don’t tell me,” silver starts again, laughing wildly in blue’s ear, “are you stealing some shit again? you’re so damn weird.” blue slides the hair tie around their wrist and tugs the sleeve of their hoodie over it. “s’not weird, it’s a souvenir.” their response is childish, mumbled and unintelligible, but silver doesn’t press them about it. they lock the door and make their way out of the building as inconspicuous as possible — or, as inconspicuous as one can be while wearing a mask like that. no one stops them, though, and blue heads off campus with little issue.

/ SECOND x INTERMISSION /

one day you’ll quit working at club forte, but today is not that day. you make the decision to skip your first few classes, because you know if you don’t sleep you’ll never be able to tolerate eren’s pompous attitude for longer than three seconds. the thought of him, of the silent promises he made, of the way he kissed you a few days ago, has your face so warm it’s impossible to think straight. it takes you twice as long to unlock your door because you keep dropping your keys. kicking the door shut behind you — as if the door’s to blame for your incompetence — you toss your keys onto the desk, talking shit under your breath as you undress.

you should probably take your time, place everything back neatly, but you don’t; you’re too worked up. even after you shower, wash your face, wrap your hair, brush your teeth — nothing works to distract you. between eren, your failing chemistry grade, your stupid job, and your family, you don’t know which stresses you out more. a thick envelope lays neatly on top of your favorite pillow. you don’t remember leaving it there, and while you should be concerned with the fact that someone definitely came into your dorm while you were gone, you pick it up against your better judgment.

your grip tightens around the envelope as soon as you recognize the handwriting. but, what really seals the deal, is the stupidass, creepy smiley they drew on the front. you only recently forgot about it — now you’ll remember forever. 

“damn it,” you exhale, frustrated, knowing that you won’t be able to sleep now that you’ve received this. there’s no point in ignoring it, they’re probably watching you somehow — you glance around you, another frown working its way onto your mouth before you go back to your task.

your bed barely offers any comfort — the mattress is old, the springs hurt your back, and no matter how many thick blankets you lay over it, it will never be soft enough — your mind works overtime, berating you about how messed up your life is now. inside the envelope are photos of your sister, her kids, and your dad; there are so many photos that you can fill an entire book up with them. you browse through them with thinly veiled interest, ignoring the small note that falls onto your lap, until you spot another, smaller photo that’s stuck in the bottom corner of the envelope. 

it takes a minute, but you manage to pry it out, blood going cold when you see that it’s torn, the soft, jagged edges worn with time. the face is partially obscured, the features that you’re able to make out seem graceful, elegant — unmarred by the trials of life, the stress of financial burdens, as if they’ve never known a day of work in their life. the only reason why you know who it is, is simply because you were kissing those very same lips days ago.

the note is short, to the point — mechanical in tone. you swore to stop helping them years ago, and for a while they left you alone; but it seems that this isn’t the case now. you read the contents out loud to yourself, just to make sure. “‘café con leche, eren j. chateau de sirène, the golden fountain. dean farrow’s office, bottom drawer on the left. the viper’s playground, strawberry gold tennis bracelet. unused observatory, dec. 12, xx22 - 07:23 a.m.’” the words, while seemingly nonsensical, make perfect sense to you. 

you know what happens when you don’t comply; you know what happens if you’re not prompt. keeping them waiting isn’t an option, and they’ve already started the countdown to your demise. it’s not anything you can’t do — but that doesn’t mean any of it is easy. 

frustration wells within you, bubbling mightily, an angry shriek bouncing around your room, making your neighbors bang on the walls to silence you. you don’t care though — they stole that from you. now all that’s left is a heaviness that sits on your chest, your throat and mouth dry at the prospect of betrayal, your mind reeling at the discovery of another roadblock on your path to freedom.

what will it take for you to finally be able to stand on your own without the weight of others bringing you down? you don’t know — and maybe you never will. everything has gone to hell; all you can do is try not to burn.

/ ACT x III /

sunset brings about a dark golden glow to campus, the light trickling through the large windows of the library, the pinks and reds and oranges reminding eren of when life was much simpler — back in his childhood. he rubs at his chest, worrisome feelings flitting about, hurting his head; he should stop while he’s ahead. thinking about the past will do him no good, not when he’s come so far already. and, besides, he has more important things to consider.

your inability to attend any function or meeting on time, for example.

glancing down at his phone, he checks the time again; he warned you before, to not be late — that if you were late, you should do the courteous thing and bring snacks. he has half a mind to text you something absurd, something that will get your blood boiling, make you say unfortunate things with your cute, pouty mouth. he sits there at that lone table near the window, away from the other students — as most of them tend to congregate on the first two floors, while eren prefers the third — thinking of you like some lovesick fool. 

a frown works its way onto his face as he leans in his chair, arms folded against his chest, head tilted back, eyes closed, as if he’s praying for something.

you’re not sure how long you stand off to the side watching him, the way his throat bobs, how sharp his jaw is, the way his lashes make him look kind and gentle when you know he’s everything but that; again, you try to convince yourself that you’re not a stalker. but as you clutch the to-go cups in your hand, coffee warm even through the thick material of the cup, you’re not so sure.

it’s too late to stop now, though, and you chant that softly as you march over to eren. your footsteps aren’t quiet at all, so his eyes open, glance sideways as he watches you approach him. 

again, your attire is impractical — thin cropped cardigan, pleated skirt accompanied with dark knee high socks and some low-heeled ankle boots — his eyes linger on the way your thighs shimmer like bronze in the light, goddess-like, a forbidden fruit that he’s tempted to touch all the time. prior to your run-in at club forte, you assumed the looks that eren gave you were out of pure agitation and nothing else.

now you know better. you understand what it means when his eyes darken like that — when the greens remind you of dangerous paths in forests, of overgrown wilderness that powerfully conquer cities, of the darkest depths of the lake you almost drowned in many, many years ago — but still you push forward. you refuse to back down, to let him win; if anything, you should be calling the shots. and maybe you will, if you can get him to stop looking at you for that long.

“i come bearing coffee,” you say in a lame-attempt to sound cordial and friendly. your smile is a little sheepish and teasing — he eats it all up. 

“where are the snacks.” he doesn’t actually care about them, he just likes watching you squirm under his gaze.

your eyes narrow, lips purse — there he goes, being obnoxious as ever. “back at the snack store, obviously.” your retort comes out faster than you mean for, and you might’ve slammed the coffee cup down in front of him a little too hard. but, none of that is your fault. eren always brings this side out of you, unfortunately.

���all that attitude, after i’ve graciously offered to tutor you?” his voice comes out soft, as if he’s hurt by the revelation. you glare as you sit across from him, ignoring his words and sipping your coffee happily. 

“don’t give me that bullshit,” you say in between sips, reveling in how fresh and creamy the drink is, “you don’t have a gracious bone in your body.” your bag sits off to your left, untouched; maybe you won’t make it through the tutoring session after all. this was probably all a mistake.

eren, however, doesn’t think so. he drinks deeply from his cup, tongue darting out to lick the drop of coffee that threatened to spill onto his chin. is it bad that you almost spilled your coffee watching him do that? he’s being impossible, insufferable, even, but you’ll have to stay strong and sit through it all. you need that grade in chemistry, your academic career depends on it. with a soft breath, you try to calm yourself by grabbing your notebook out of your bag.

“also, stop that,” you snap, face flushing; you hate that you can’t even look at him properly without thinking about the way he touched you.

confused, eren tilts his head, watching you curiously. “stop what?”

not wanting to be distracted, you decide to bulldoze through, your argument flimsy but you’re sticking to it regardless. you motion your hands and essentially point to his face, “that right there. stop it.”

his brows knit closely together before his features relax quickly, his lips tugging upward into a mocking smile. “you don’t want me to look at you?” how ridiculous can you be? 

for some reason, you’re finding it very difficult to properly dig through your bag for the rest of your supplies. “yes, don’t look at me.”

while he did actually want to study — he wasn’t joking when he said he would help you — he likes to see this side of you every so often; the side that is rattled easily, that can never handle intense conversations, that showcases your emotions so earnestly. 

“why?”

blinking slowly you whip your head towards him, pink curls bouncing around — wild, untethered, whimsical — soft lips parting. “what do you mean why?” eren’s audacity clearly knows no bounds at this point; you simply cannot believe him. “did you forget what you did?” your voice lowers, embarrassment making it hard to look at him — because every time you do, you’re forced to remember how easily you let him in. 

a quiet chuckle crawls out of his mouth. “you mean what we did. and that’s not a reason to tell me not to look at you.” although, it’s hilarious to him that you think you can command him like that. if anything, he’s the one running things; he’s the one setting the pace, he’ll be the one to say when it ends. before he can tease you any more, laughter interrupts him and the mischievousness completely vanishes from his face and demeanor. eren sips his coffee again, eyes drifting towards the source of the noise. 

of course, jean and connie interrupt you; of course, they find out about the tutoring session; of course, they spot you right away and head to the table you’re seated at. you let out the breath you were holding, although you’re not exactly relieved to see them.

“eren, why didn’t you tell us you were helping y/n study? we need help too, man.” connie gives him a pointed look, making you laugh lightly and shake your head; his antics always manage to entertain you to no end.

jean offers eren a haughty look before winking at you. “yeah, besides i need to make sure that you’re not bullying her, like you always do.” heat creeps up the back of eren’s neck, the top of his ears reddening in a quiet anger. but he doesn’t blow up, he doesn’t kick them out, he doesn’t give you the same looks he gave you earlier. you assume it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know that he likes you; for some reason, a dull ache takes over your heart.

they both sit down — jean to your left, connie to your right — the table large enough to accommodate you comfortably. he grills your small group for twenty minutes straight, but when your leg accidentally brushes against his, he flinches, green eyes landing on yours, that hunger from earlier increasing tenfold. he hates the way jean keeps trying to keep your attention — so eren sends the harder questions jean’s way — he also hates the way connie is distracting you with his jokes; the annoyance he thought he could ignore morphs into something nastier, and he knows that if he doesn’t find a way to calm down quickly, things will get messy.

thankfully, the universe likes to lend him a hand every once in a while. or, so he thought.

a high-pitched squeal, the loud clacks of chunky heels, a lingering perfume that chokes you all immediately. “oh my gosh!!! is that ren?” a blonde-haired woman flips her thin hair over her shoulder, a dazzling smile gracing her face — so bright it almost seems fake. she’s flanked by two others who look eerily similar in style, hair, and face — he already forgot their names, so he won’t bother with pleasantries just yet.

you watch as eren flinches again, except this is different; his eyes dim, the playfulness completely dissipating. your mouth opens slightly, questions formulating quickly; you want to ask him what’s wrong, but the blonde decides to question you first.

“um, who are you?” it’s laughable how indignant she is, and it’d be commendable if her voice didn’t get on your nerves.

jean and connie chat with the other two, and eren, in the meantime, is doing his best to keep calm. the girl — sarah? no, jasmine, maybe? he isn’t sure — will not leave him alone no matter what; even mikasa was no match for her tenacity. 

she keeps pestering you, an irrational urge spurned by jealousy makes you kick off one of your boots as stealthily as possible, and stretch your shapely leg forward, foot grazing eren’s ankle and you swear you see him visibly shiver. 

perfect.

“so, ren, huh?” you trail your foot higher, brushing it along his calf, pushing up to his thigh. his lids lower instinctively, striking green eyes completely on you, hands balled into fists. while he knows you’re just doing this to distract him for whatever reason, he also knows that he can’t let you go too far; because he’s already struggling to keep his restraint with the others hanging around.

the girl — ashley, apparently — answers for him. “yeah, that’s his nickname.” you know that it’s a lie, you’ve never heard any of his friends call him that, and you’re very sure she’s nothing close to a friend. “only his friends are allowed to call him that.” she sounds so sure of herself, her determination is sort of adorable; you want to pet her stupid, soft head because of it. 

if she only knew how much eren hates that insipid nickname.

“oh?” your voice is saccharine, making him choke; and of course — of fucking course — he gets hard the moment your toe touches the zipper on his pants. the smile on your face infuriates him, he wants to fuck that smug attitude out of you — all in due time, he tells himself; if he can endure this, he might just do it sooner. “can i call you ren too?” you stroke his bulge and he clenches his jaw, his cock hardening more at your arrogance.

if he were more honest with himself, he’d admit that he likes the fact that you can hold a seemingly innocuous conversation while touching him like that. he can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and that simultaneously worries and pisses him off. that you have such an effect on him is a problem that he needs to solve sometime in the near future. or else, he’ll never survive the remainder of the year. 

“no.” he doesn’t actually mean that, but he sounds like he does and you like taking risky gambles. eren can’t deal with your foot, the softness of its curves, the persistent way you keep applying pressure as you stroke him underneath the table. his face flushes, as if the temperature in the frigid library went up 100 degrees and he slams his hand down on his book, the noise making you jump and catching the attention of the others.

jean and connie exchange looks between one another, but it’s you who leans forward, breasts straining against the front of your buttoned cardigan, sensual mouth moving as you ask, “are you okay, ren?” the icing on the cake is that you wrap a long curl around your finger and twirl it innocently. 

with a deep breath, eren comes to a decision; coughs into his fist once, then twice. “session over. leave.” he doesn’t bother looking at his friends, doesn’t spare the intruding gaggle of girls another thought; he leans back in the chair, legs spreading, waiting as connie and jean gather their things. they’re used to eren’s outbursts, and know better than the press an issue no matter how curious they are. jean’s eyes slide from your face over to eren’s; you don’t seem to be in distress, so he supposes it’s fine to leave you alone with eren. and, because jean is unable to stop himself, he motions for the girls to follow them, talking loudly about which bars he wants to go to later.

you drop your foot and shove it back into your boot, smirking to yourself as you gather the remainder of your things as well. eren hasn’t moved though, he just watches you — a wolf with its naive prey; which only makes things worse. you’re aware of the way his eyes track your movements and it heats your skin. as soon as you stand, however, eren walks to your side and wraps his hand around your wrist, yanking you close to him. you didn’t expect him to react so suddenly, but you can’t deny that you wanted to rile him up like this; he can see the smugness behind your eyes, in the way your lips curl delicately, like a cat’s. it pisses him off that you think you can get away with things like that without repercussions.

and now? it’s time to collect payment.

a thick silence slithers in between the rows of bookshelves, serving to amplify the sound of your breathing. wordlessly, he backs you against the closest bookshelf, back arching once he wraps a strong hand around your neck. your eyes widen at the squeeze, his fingers digging into your skin roughly, making you squirm against him. your propensity for finding yourself in difficult situations has led you to this exact moment — or, that’s what you’ll tell yourself later on, in secret. 

eren rubs his thumb against your pulse slowly, your hips bucking forward and meeting his, reminding him that he’s being idiotic. anyone can walk in on you, but he isn’t thinking about that properly enough; all he can think about is how best to teach you a lesson, so you won’t pull a stunt like that in public again.

but when your eyelashes flutter gently, when your fingers grab onto the front of his shirt, he gives in to his hunger instead. the moment his lips press against yours, you come alive; if you thought the kisses he gave you before were potent, you’re wholly unprepared for the ones he gives you now. he swallows your moans as he releases his hold on your neck and, instead runs his hand down your back, its firm path pushing you closer and closer to him — the heat from his body scorching, even through the layers of clothing — before slipping it under your skirt. he grabs your ass roughly, tongue arrogantly invading your mouth, stroking yours in a way that melts your mind. you feel an ache in your core, thighs rubbing together, his fingers pressing into the fleshier part of your ass, giving it an unforgiving squeeze.

your nails rake against the back of his neck, your chests bumping against one another each time you inhale. he finds himself enraptured by the sweet taste of your mouth, your lips supple and plump, but when you suck on his tongue, his cock strains against the front of his pants — stiff and heavy, you memorize the length of him with each roll of your hips.

ravenous and impatient, eren drags his lips down your neck, tongue flicking against the skin forcefully. your teeth sink into your bottom lip, muffling the pathetic noises your body is so desperate for you to make. you refuse to let him see how much you want to beg for him to touch you more, but you can’t help the way your fingers weave around his brown hair and tug on the strands fiercely, and you can’t help when your hips buck against his — hungry, needy, obsessive. if you knew just how similarly eren felt, you’d laugh in his face; he’s sure of it.

his teeth graze your skin, the bite is painful and addictive, a dizzying ordeal that has your heart beating out of control. as much as he wants to prolong all of this, he knows you’re both limited in time right now.

with hurried movements, eren pulls your panties down, a sly smile leaping onto his lips; shame makes it difficult to keep your eyes open, but eren isn’t having that.

“keep your eyes on me,” he says gruffly, voice low and demanding, dangerously alluring. he kneels in front of you, and, per his request, through lowered lids you watch him, a haze settling over you the moment he grabs your leg and drapes it over his shoulder. he drops feather-light kisses on the inside of your thigh, a shiver violently ripping through you, his breath warm against your soft skin — you let out a whimper, it cascades lower, melting into him. you hate how your pussy betrays you, how your arousal drips onto his tongue the moment it makes contact, how his surprise at finding a piercing running vertically through the hood of your clit makes you wish you could go back in time and do all of this sooner. all of those years wasted, when you could have been together — physically, of course.

with a small hum, the vibrations make your hips jerk, and you do your best to keep quiet when his tongue inevitably circles around your clit slowly and with purpose, but it’s incredibly difficult. especially when eren presses his mouth closer, tongue running flat against your slit with broad, lascivious strokes. in any other context, you’d find the loud slurping sounds to be too much, but because of how quiet the floor is, everything amplifies in the silence, your moans slipping out, making you slap a hand over your mouth, eyes closing, a light, fluttery sensation pulsing through you, leg trembling despite his assistance at holding you up. you lose all of your strength — his mouth is equal parts sinful and villainous, siphoning your ability to keep your mind straight. 

his tongue reminds you that his wickedness never rests, especially with the way it slides between the folds of your pussy with ease, dipping inside your tight hole — your cunt practically begging him to fuck you with his tongue mercilessly. 

so he does.

your cries and moans are muffled behind your hand, you keep it pressed tightly against your mouth, afraid to give yourself any wiggle room as eren tears through yet another wall of your defenses. the way he’s able to peel back layer after layer without even trying, that he’s able to have you panting and breathing heavily like this for him, wetness dripping down his lips, spilling onto his chin — it terrifies you. 

eren is not a giving person; he can give, but mostly he takes and takes and takes. with you, his priorities are thrown out of order. all he can think about is chasing the high you keep dangling in front of him; your expressions are priceless, ranging from ecstasy to annoyance, neatly plucked brows knitted closely together, long, curled lashes moist from unshed tears. poetry in motion, he thinks — and when his tongue swoops upward again, giving your clit — and that piercing — a hard lick, you let out a throaty moan that you don’t bother keeping to yourself.

your voice hoarse, you manage to cry out, “fuck, eren” and clench your teeth together, inhaling big gulps of air, hoping to knock some sense into you. 

but eren’s relentless, a man possessed. 

you see it in the way his eyes have a laser-sharp focus on you, as if he’s waiting for the second you completely fall under his spell; you see it in the way he plunges two fingers inside of you, his mouth bullying your clit, sucking on it sloppily as he pumps his fingers in and out of you; you see it in the way he curls his fingers, flicks his wrist, and commands your body to move at the brutal pace he sets. 

and when he pries his lips away from you long enough to smirk — indomitable, lurid, full of dark promises — lips glistening, your arousal coating them thickly, you feel that buildup shoot through you fervently. 

he tells you all sorts of things, like “good girl,” when your hips jerk erratically, mouth sputtering stupidly as you try to form a coherent enough statement; and, “look at how tight you’re squeezing around me,” when he inserts another finger, the fullness pushing you over the edge, drowning you in euphoria; and also, “if you keep crying out like that, someone might hear you.” he doesn’t sound too concerned about that at all, almost as if he does want someone to hear you — to hear the way he has you wrapped around his fingers, to bear witness to the transformation he’s put you through, to watch the wanton way you ride his face when his mouth latches onto your clit again.

a jolt of arousal passes between you — electric, toe-curling, perilous — he continues plunging his fingers inside of you, eager to put you out of commission. there must be something in the air, because he feels it too. that heaviness, that incessant need to see more of you like this. he knows that the moment he sinks his cock into you, he’ll never know a day of peace. and now that he's gotten a proper taste of you, he’s fully prepared to embrace that life.

his poor excuse for an imagination can never compete with the real thing, he realizes.

it’s not every day that an orgasm nearly blinds you — a flash of white, your skin burning as your strangled sobs undulate through his ears, your chest heaving pitifully, a few buttons on your cardigan coming undone, trembling hands weakly gripping eren’s hair, yanking on his bun as if that’ll make him slow down. you forget yourself, forget that you’re in a library, forget that people might be able to hear you on the if they listen real well, forget that you started this whole mess by teasing him so badly when you were supposed to be studying.

you forget all of that as you cry out his name — your voice mellifluous, cloying, percussive — over and over, back arching off of the bookshelf, thigh tensing around him. he’s never been interested in an afterlife, doesn’t even believe in heaven, but if someone were to ask him, later on, what paradise feels like — he’d say this. you. your taste, the way he can’t seem to get enough of you. it’s a precarious situation, one he probably won’t be able to extract himself from without great difficulty.

when your voice quiets down he finally lets up, dropping a final kiss on your thigh before moving your leg off of his shoulder. if it wasn’t for his quick reflexes, you’d have fallen over already. but eren catches you, pulls you back up, helps you straighten your clothes. he licks his lips and you watch him warily, unable to speak, brown eyes that make him want to kiss you all over again. so he does. just like that, hand gripping your face, thumb tracing along the curve of your lips before licking at them, tongue demanding entrance once again, your head full of impossible ideas.

“you,” your cheek presses against his chest and you listen to his heart beat, the rhythm hypnotizing, mysteriously so, “this is so messed up.” he wants to ask what you mean by that, but refrains, fear of rejection seizing his confidence, but he swallows hard and ignores it; pushes through, false bravado driving him to stay firm and not falter.

he picks up your discarded panties, gives you a look that has your face burning all over again; you fight him for them, and just give up in the end, let him have them as a keepsake — a tiny trophy for a job well-done. 

and, because you love playing with fire, you sidle up to him again, caress his cheek with your hand before pinching it playfully. voice honeyed, laced with intent, you say, “thanks, rennie,” and duck away from him, lilting laughter circling around him like enchanting elves, a litany of curse words flying out of his mouth as he reminds you about how much he fucking hates that nickname. you don’t care, decide to change his name in your phone, and completely disregard the fact that you let eren jaeger have his way with you — again.

he offers to walk you back to your dorm, but you decline, much to his annoyance but he doesn’t push the issue; another time, maybe. on your way back, you notice a notification pop up on your phone and click on it; a different unknown number this time. they were so damn annoying.

+1 (xxx) xxx - xxxx: pink sofa. cushions.

with great urgency, you walk faster, nearly sprinting through the quad, hoping to get to the residential hall before it’s too late. ten minutes later, you’re panting all over again, sweat gliding down the back of your neck, hair frizzy, but you don’t stop. with as much nonchalance as you can muster, you walk calmly to the sofa in question and, thankfully, no one is sitting on it. you plop down, slip your hands in between the cushions and fiddle around. a sense of hopelessness grips you, until your fingers brush against a ziploc bag. you pry it out, eyes widening when you see several stacks of hundred dollar bills bound tightly together. you shove the money into your bag and scurry off to your dorm, locking the door behind you before sinking to the floor.

you’re exhausted and don’t want to play this stupid game, but you can’t back out now, there’s too much at stake. you know that somewhere down the line someone will get hurt, you’re just not sure if it’ll be you… or him.

a small, cruel part of you wishes that it’s him — payback for all those years he treated you like you were beneath him — but the other part, the much bigger, more foolish one, hopes that he comes out of this relatively unscathed. this is a game of chance, a game with risks big enough to keep you awake at night; it’s a game of unhappy endings and punishing rewards. you knew better than to make a deal with the devil and you did it anyway. 

this is your penance, you remind yourself bitterly, for what happened all those years ago. and until you see this through, you’ll never rid yourself of these problems — your freedom keeps slipping out of your grasp; no matter what you do, no matter how much you try, you’re always five steps behind.

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#it's...finally done #i fussed over this long enough but *washes hands* enjoy y'all #i'm not sorry for eren's nonsense; y/n continues to lack self-preservation skills #fic request #eren jaeger #snk x reader #snk x y/n #aot x reader #aot x y/n #eren x y/n #eren x reader #aot smut #eren smut #snk smut #snk fic #snk au #aot au #snk imagine #series: enfin je me réveille #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaegar smut

[tally-ace]

OH UH it's been a little bit since I mentioned anything about aoc au....

Uhhh I'm taking a break from it! I'm working on a "short" (not word count-wise but chapter-wise, it's only like 5 chapters) ffvii fic to try to get myself back into the swing of writing. I realized that a lot of issues I was having with these last few chapters of flowers was the outline itself, the pacing was messing me up and I've realized that a lot of the plot is just retreading the same message over and over again and not progressing the way I was hoping it would.

But the solution to fixing the issues I'm having isn't coming easily to me so I'm taking a step back so I can return with fresh eyes! I know that I'll have to rework a bit to get flowers back into motion, and probably have to rework some already posted chapters, but ahh it is what it is.

BUT if you're interested in ffvii be on the lookout for my extremely self-indulgent vampire au fic sometime in the future ;)

#spirit and ghost au #if my break continues for another full month ill officially mark flowers as on hiatus #but im completing this series if its the last thing i do #i did NOT get through 2 full multichapter fics #and halfway through the third and FINAL fic of the series #just to pass out before the finish line

[ctl-yuejie]

coming in with mildy old grievances

upon letting it rest a bit, boston's ending in ofts still doesn't make any sense.

him and nick splitting? fine. him making out with beam knowing that this is not what nick and him agreed to? maybe? idk, the writing makes it seem plausible at least.

but the point being that he is left alone since he was a bad friend?

would only make sense if he wasn't shown to have genuine affection for nick and (uncharacteristically) grovel at his friends feet.

if we are to believe that the ending makes sense because his one (unforgivable) mistake was to not value friendship, why does the show take the time to have him panic about getting found with top by mew in the shower, keep it a secret, admit his affections for nick to himself, be down on himself after his friends shun him and ask "why am i always an asshole to the people i like" and then fully lose all his prior demeanour to try and honestly make up with his friends?

if he's supposed to be a stone-cold bitch who has no affections for anyone else whatsoever, why would he degrade himself like that? especially send photographs to this "friendgroup" months later from new york as if he still needs them and their approval to feel included?

this might bring back the slut-shaming discourse for the umpteenth time, but if the punishment by the narrative was supposed to make sense solely due to him being an asshole of a friend, things don't quite add up.

(and i don't think there is a way that this is not cruel, even when everyone else - sans nick maybe - is acting quite in character, e.g. Mew not only not forgiving him - fair - but being cruel about it by feigning that he's okay with Boston staying in the group...actually, this is going to be too much to put in a bracket, so:

Mew had his revenge (disproportionately when you ask me, but that is neither here nor there) but I do understand that he doesn't want to be friends with Boston anymore. However, he did basically force Boston back into working on the group project. It was only after the Atom thing (where both him and Ray knew that there hadn't been any SA or at least didn't actually care if there was) that Boston was out of the group again. And when Chueam offers to let him back in, Mew suddenly is like "well, you cannot decide that by yourself". Yes, Mew can change his mind on wanting to have Boston around but it doesn't make his behaviour any less cruel. Nor does Chueam not apologising and Ray not caring at all how Boston has become austrasized for the thing he did not do (I cannot overemphasize how Mew did let Boston back into the group - even if it is just for the project - since he called them even to some degree) make them any less shitty friends. And they clearly do not care about hurting him when they smell blood during the new years party that Boston fucked up with Nick.

Is there a difference between being cruel to a friend and being cruel by sleeping with his partner? that's sth everyone can decide for themselves.

but it absolutely gives less and less credence to the justification for his treatment by the show being that he's "just an asshole and a really bad friend".

and to call it a good ending since he meant to cut all ties before moving to new york anyways? only makes sense if it wasn't shown as a change in how he does things that he wants to try and date nick until then. which was a really interesting turn: someone like him wouldn't change to be monogamous but trying to not sleep with people for a few months? could've very well been possible as well as an interesting thing to try as someone like boston. but if we are to believe that he truely doesn't care since he plans on leaving, there would be no reason to try and get his friends forgiveness nor send them a present from new york afterwards.

the others do feel in character, but with the emphasize on the casual slut shaming they do (while it is a conscious theme of the show) and nick even going as far as saying "maybe you are the type of person who should roll alone" (instead of: we just don't fit but that doesn't mean people like you have to be alone) it really doesn't feel like this is about him being an asshole in general at all. queer friendship - despite what the title might infer - hasn't been a central theme of the show. which obviously is up to the writers. but the personal vendetta that seems to have seeped in against someone who was like Boston feels a bit disappointing. if anything, it makes an otherwise interesting show feel very inconsistent and carries the unfortunate side-effect of making the audience feel like this show meant to say some disparranging things about "sluts".

even in the constraints of the story the writers clearly set out to tell, there was a much more interesting and compelling characterization left on the board in favor of moralising in the last minute on not being a slut.

#only friends the series #ofts #beyond tumblr a lot of the audience response was to rejoice at the retribution which is a bit disappointing for one of the more interesting #characters introduced in the series #notwithstanding any translation issues re: to what nick says #but the whole picture makes the messaging pretty clear #and it is curious because i do like that the others not necesseraly are given clear happy endings: chueam believes she fixed the friendgrou #and has never apologized for accusing boston of sa #the choice by force to have top look so out of himself when mew tells sand to kiss him??!! there is still so much in there (further illustr #ted by mix's cameo) #sandray being cute and seemingly on a good path? yes - but i do think not everyone in the audience has forgotten the economic disparaty #between them - sand's self-sacrificing nature and ray's tendency to call him the most cruel names without ever apologizing for it #i felt very empty when boston was left on that curb - but i went wtf when his last mention in the show was him sending them the group photo #maybe i will still write that piece on ethics in this show #other than that and reccing that one tonnick fic i will continue to finally reblog all the amazing ofts gifsets

[vveissesfleisch]

.

#oh my god what the fuck was that. what the actual fresh fuck. was that movie #literally who was that for #I’m fucking!!! distraught?!? #I don’t even know where to begin #why did they continue the story like this?? we all know the history here we know how uhtreds story ends. we didn’t need to be smothered with #a watered down half baked unsatisfying angst fest #the story was so insanely rushed. the new characters so incredibly underdeveloped. and old faves barely got a word in #there wasn’t enough history in there for the history buffs and there wasn’t enough story in there for the fans. and fuck me there was ZERO #fan service. fan violence only #so many out of character moments! #if they were going to continue the story after ending the show so beautifully #they should not have done it like this #there were 3 moments I loved and they were each a split second long #and I have so much fanfic to write to make up for that #good fucking fuck I’m about to call out of work so I can write some emergency fixit fic. #man I did not expect it to be so disappointing. #I’m not gonna tag it because my sentiments are negative as hell but let’s just say tlk ended for me with the series finale #this movie is bullshit. except the fics that rise from its ashes. #they did us sooooo dirty after doing us so so so SO good #oh man what the fuck. #sigh. #at least my boys looked absolutely gorgeous #SIGH!

[what-do-1000-swords-look-like]

No. Just no.

Listen, I appreciate that this fan had the courage to go and get a photo op with Jensen and this was their idea they most likely worked hard on (hence the homemade signs) and he obviously agreed to it, and no offense to this person, but how is this not inappropriate?

I know we all joke that TW is Jensen's "fix-it fic" so I get the fandom inside joke like we all do but that doesn't mean he does. No matter where you stand on the series, whenever he's talked about TW, he's mentioned how proud he is of it. Bringing something that diminishes what he produced to a "fix-it fic" (even if that wasn't its intention) is disrespectful and insulting.

Sometimes I wish people would realize that this guy (and any other celebrity) is still human and maybe while you're attempting to do something that makes you look cool to the fandom doesn't necessarily translate well to the person you're having do your chosen pose in a photo op.

Like imagine writing a novel that you worked really hard on for years and you meet a fan while signing books, and they have you hold a sign up that says "I write fanfic" or something equivalent. Or if you're an artist and the sign says "I doodle" or "I draw stick figures". Even if it's an inside fandom joke. Even if the fan means well, imagine how that might make you feel.

This reminds me of the time a fan joked with him about wearing the same shirt at a different con and then he made sure to never wear the same shirt again. Like, do you not realize how that comes across? Sigh.

#why? #i'm sorry jensen #i'm sure the fan meant well #but how do they not see how diminishing that is #even if they don't like the series the winchesters is not a “fix-it fic” #i can't believe it was called that to his face like this #this goes back to what i said months ago about boundaries and respect #i can only imagine what he might have been thinking #aa's dni #just because dean showed back up in the finale doesn't make it a fix-it #it was a gateway to the reboot or continuation or whatever is coming down the line for 2025 and after

[inazuman]

i cannot decide between writing mafia!thoma or orga/sm denial reader w alhaitham

#alka talks #i knowwww alhaitham fics are doing really hot rn #but i kinda (finally) wanna continue my mafia series

[lesbiansanemi]

Oh shit I’m obsessed with anime again

#this may sound like a joke considering this blog and the plethora of fics I continue to right..... #but I have actually not been Deep into anime for like.... 8-9 months now #I’ve mostly been watching/reading/listening to other things #but uh.... #I just mowed through an entire bnha rewatch in like 3 days #finally caught up on fire force #and am actually rotating through multiple new series atm #and Yep Yep I can Feel the anime Obsession creeping back oh boy #I think it’s cuz I no longer live with the roommate who gave me shit every time I rewatched something? #idk why he did that but he always complained any time I rewatched stuff #and now I am once again free to rewatch my favorite shit like 84743783292928 times #so...... rediscovering love for a lot of series I watched forever ago and it’s made me wanna watch new stuff again #anyways I am getting ready to start vanitas no carte revolutionary girl utena wonder egg priority and..... #idk it might be time to start one of the few B I G shounen series I haven’t watched yet #since I’ve seen most of them #maybe gintama? #or idk...... maybe it is Finally time to Actually start one piece and go past the first 15 episodes #kaz rambles

[rainwingmarvel7]

All chapters of The Rise of the Final Order are now up on AO3!!!

#writing #writer #fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #the rise of the final order #the rise of the final order - a star wars story #this is the last star wars fic that I currently have fully written #so the ones afterwards will be updated more slowly as I continue to write them #I also have a prequel series for it as well that I’ve started #as well as other fics from other fandoms that I will start posting at some point

[ranger-kellyn]

now all my nanowrimo plans are thrown out the door the very first fic i did for nano in 2014 then again in 2019, namtaflu, all three parts of the story are titled after songs off 1989 and!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHH

#maybe this will be the third and final draft...? 👀 #frick i really thought i was gonna end up doing my scarlet/violet fic #or continuing my age of calamity fic but like. #i am who i am #talking tag #i HAVE really wanted to get a real start on my whole namtaflu series so like. maybe this is My Sign lol

[eternally-racing]

baby steps | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x wife!reader (plus their adorable lil kiddo) 

genre: fluff

warnings: none 

word count: 2.5k

summary: Lando needs a little bit of encouragement to head off to his first race after the birth of your daughter, so what better thing to do than surprise him on race day?

note: this fic can be read as a stand alone or as part of the racer girl series !

---

When you first showed Lando the two lines on your positive pregnancy test, your entire world had changed. It felt like such a whirlwind of excitement, and before you knew it you were 9 months pregnant watching Lando’s races on television. It was pure luck that your water only broke the day after the season ended, which meant that Lando had a cherished couple of months with your baby girl, Piper, before heading back to racing. 

The two of them had become quite the dynamic duo in your household. From the moment that Lando first looked at your daughter, he knew that he was in love. He was an amazing father and you told him exactly that at every moment you could. It was one of the biggest fears that Lando had, being an absent father or not knowing what to do. Before you met Lando he was fully in his bachelor lifestyle, not once even thinking of kids, but now he was the biggest girl dad you’ve ever seen, giving into your daughter’s every whim. It’s exactly why Lando says he wants to give up racing all together once he sees your daughter cry for the first time when he leaves to go to the MTC for the first time since she was born - he would do anything for Piper, he would give up everything he loved if it meant that his little girl would be happy. Luckily, he had you to keep him grounded, and after more than a couple of tearful conversations you had helped Lando make peace with continuing on with his career with you and your daughter there to support him in the background. This was the first week that this was truly going to be tested though, since it was finally time for him to fly to Bahrain. 

“Say goodbye to daddy!” you say as you pick up your daughter’s hand to make her wave. 

You can see the way the wheels are turning in Lando’s head as he stays frozen in the entryway. He’s not forgetting anything, there’s no way he could with your packing lists that he’s used for every single race since you started dating. Even if he did forget something, he knows he could easily get someone from the team to either shop for him or send it over.

“Y/N I - , I don’t know anymore about this,” Lando mutters with his grip on the door handle loosening. 

“Lan, cmon now, I can’t have two babies in this house at once.” you joke as you pinch his cheek. “But seriously, you’re gonna be okay? Just do your best out there. I’m only a phone call away all the time if you need me. You’re going to be great and we’re cheering you on from here. I’ll send you all the pictures and videos and everything so it’ll feel like you’re still with us.”

While Piper can’t talk yet, she still reaches out to Lando to gently pat his shoulder - which only brings more tears to the forefront of Lando’s eyes. He always said his daughter was smart beyond her years, able to sense things even some adults don’t notice. 

“What if Piper can’t fall asleep without me reading her story? What if she learns how to walk before I’m gone? Or what if she forgets that I even exist?” 

“First off, I have memorized “the Rainbow Fish” perfectly from the 7 different times you taught me it. She’s not going to walk because she’s barely 8 months old. And lastly, she’s not going to forget you Lando, I promise you that. Do you trust me?” 

Lando doesn’t miss a beat when he says “always.” 

You hand your daughter off to Lando’s arms in exchange for the carry on that’s currently in his hands. You know that all he needs to do is hold her, to remember that feeling of being with her so he can keep that memory with him for the week ahead. You’re not the only one who’s noticed the way that Piper always immediately seems to calm down whenever she’s in her dad’s arms. There was something special between the two of them, something so unbreakable - which is exactly what you tell Lando. 

“Plus I think she’s in that phase where she’s starting to like you better, so I could use some alone time with our little bug” you tease as you squish your daughter’s cheeks. When Lando sees you cracking jokes it makes him feel a little more at ease - if you were so comfortable with this then why shouldn’t he be too? With one last hug and kiss, Lando finally walks out the door with a promise to facetime you once he gets to the airport. 

Piper starts crying the second she realizes that her dad is really gone, and honestly you shed a few tears too.

 “Don’t worry Pipes, we’re going to see daddy sooner than you think,” you whisper to your daughter as you try to soothe her. Little did Lando know that you had a bag packed in your bedroom for you and your daughter to surprise him at the paddock on race day.

—

The expectations were low for Lando in Bahrain, both from the media and from himself. He had been very upfront about having different priorities this summer than just racing, so he had been a write-off in so many people’s minds. That’s what made it even sweeter when Lando saw the checkered flag first in Bahrain, marking the very first time he had ever won at the circuit. It’s no secret that Lando had become more sensitive since he had become a dad, but when he says “This one is for my girls, I love you Y/N and Piper” over the radio, it brings tears to everyone’s eyes. 

Lando is already over the moon. He gives a big cheer to the roaring crowd before going to hug the rest of the team. It’s absolutely electric and it really seems like everyone, regardless of whether they are a McLaren fan or not, could appreciate how much this win meant to him. 

But the sweetest moment is when he spots you. You’re a little bit off to the side, a couple of security guards standing around you to make sure that nobody would try and trample over you and Piper. Little Piper is wearing a pair of noise canceling McLaren branded headphones on her ears as she hangs out happily in your arms. It’s like she spots her dad at the same time too, since she starts waving her arms in Lando’s direction. Lando immediately stops everything he’s doing to run over to you two. You have a knowing look in your eye, like you were just waiting for him to finally spot you both. 

“Oh my god, you’re here.”  Lando lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Having you both here makes him finally feel complete, like his heart was finally whole again. 

“There’s no way we were going to miss daddy’s first race of the season. Congratulations, babe” 

Lando has questions of course - how you managed to pull this off without him noticing, whether Piper gave you trouble on the plane, and so much more. For now, though, he just wants to spend time with you two. He almost forgets that he’s at the race entirely, let alone that he won it until a team member comes up behind him to ask him if he’s ready to do his interview 5 minutes from now. 

When Piper reaches over with her little grabby hands for Lando, you of course give into her whims as you pass her over to the sweaty driver. It also gives you a second to pull out your phone and capture the moment for yourself. Piper is playing with the visor on Lando’s helmet, learning a new form of peek a boo that you know that she’s going to want to keep playing when you get home. You’re the one who helps keep Lando on track, giving him one last kiss on his helmet before you tell him to head off towards the hoard of media personnel eagerly awaiting his appearance. When you go to take Piper back from him she refuses to budge, and with both Piper and Lando giving you their classic puppy dog eyes, you know you’re outnumbered. 

“Keep her safe, Lan, okay?” It’s a rhetorical question. You know that Lando wouldn’t let anything happen to her - but it’s still a big crowd, the biggest you’ve ever been since you gave birth, and it’s a little scary to not hold onto her here. 

You don’t think anyone has ever seen Will Buxton this happy as he pulls Lando aside for his post-race interview. 

“I have to say, congratulations on an absolutely brilliant drive from you today, Lando - and would you like to introduce the special guest you’ve brought with you?” Will asks with a grin. 

Lando can’t help the similar smile that is etched on his face as he looks at his little girl. “This is my daughter Piper, and she’s just the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I can’t share enough praise for my beautiful wife Y/N too - words can’t describe how much she means to me.I really wouldn’t be standing here in front of you today without her support.”  Lando looks back at you with a smile and kisses Piper on the cheek to end off his sentence, but Piper seems to be more interested in the texture of the mic than her dad at the moment. 

“What does it mean to you to have this be your first win as a father, Lando?” 

“Oh man, this little girl is everything to me - I just want to do my best on the track so that Piper can look back and always be proud to have me as her dad.” 

The moment is made extra sweet as Piper tosses and turns in Lando’s hold so that she can cling to him like a koala bear, pulling herself further into Lando’s chest. She is starting to like the microphone just as much as Lando, so she pulls her face right onto it before she says her very first word - “dada”.

At first Lando thinks he’s hallucinating - there’s so many people around and there’s so much noise that he can barely hear himself think. But then Piper says it again and he can’t help but start to cry.

“She -, she- called me dada, oh my god I can’t believe it,” Lando’s in pure disbelief as he stares in awe at his little girl and looks back at you watching in the crowd. For a minute he forgets that there’s a full corral of people watching him until he hears a collective “awww” from the crowd.  “Sorry it’s just -, wow, she’s never done that before.” he says sincerely as he wipes the tears from his cheeks.

It’s now Piper’s turn to cry as she gets overwhelmed with all the eyes that are staring at her, pushing the microphone away from her as she buries her head into Lando’s shoulder. She is just a little kid, after all. Lando wraps up the interview as fast as he can, apologizing as he whisks Piper away to try and lift her spirits. 

Luckily it’s time to head into the cooldown room, which proves to be the perfect place for Piper to calm down from her outburst. The antics continue there as Lando bounces Piper on her lap, pointing to the TV screen to show her all the highlights. 

“Look at daddy about to overtake uncle Charles! And there’s uncle Alex, and uncle George...” Lando continues to retell the story of the last two hours as the other two podium sitters, Max and Oscar, chime in intermittently. Sometimes Piper’s gaze falls to Lando’s new hat instead of the screen, but he’s happy to have her in the room with him to share this moment. 

You have to really bargain with Lando to get him to hand Piper back to you so he can head to the podium by himself - it’s only at the rational explanation of not wanting your baby covered in champagne that he finally gives in to reason. Piper loves seeing the celebrations on the podium, adding in some cheers of her own when she sees her dad jumping up and down with joy on the podium. The little girl is addicted to the shine of the Bahrain trophy in the sun and you and Lando both later joke that she likes the piece of metal better than the both of you combined. 

It’s no surprise that Piper falls asleep on the car ride home - you do the same next to her as the jet lag catches up to you both. Piper still keeps one hand firmly on the trophy, having barely let it out of her sight since Lando brought it to her. Lando can’t help but feel so lucky as he looks through the rearview mirror at the both of you. 

It never gets any easier - leaving. The next weekend Lando heads to the United States and Piper cries the whole day once she notices that he’s packing a suitcase. You’re honest with Lando when you tell him that you’ll see him once he gets back, there’s no way you and Piper would be able to handle all the time changes and long haul flights that would come with going to every race.

You still watch every race though, throwing sleep training to the wind as Piper often stays up at all odd hours to watch with you. There are so many moments where you wish that you could be there with Lando, especially with the season he’s having. As the journalists would say, Lando’s “dad powers” have brought him his best ever start to a Formula 1 season, as he has yet to finish outside the top 3 so far. 

“What do you think is going to happen when I don’t come home from a trip with one of those?” Lando jokes as he sees your daughter absolutely enamored with the newest addition to her trophy collection. It’s the Australian GP trophy, which proves to be the perfect vessel for Piper to put her cereal pieces into. The little girl has taken to yelling as her new favorite hobby, and she shows it off every time she squeals with joy when Lando walks through the door after a race.

“I don’t want to find out, so you’ll just have to keep getting podiums, Lan” you joke back as you lean your head onto his shoulder. 

----

author's note: oh man, this has been sitting in my drafts FOREVER as i tried to perfect it but i really wanted to share it with you all. Thanks for all the love - asks are open if you want to say hello or make a request! Until next time! - Em 🤍

#lando norris #f1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fluff #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #ln4 imagine #f1 fanfic #mclaren f1 #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando fluff #formula one #ln4 x reader

[ss-soup-spoon]

:D

#not me coming back to this account when im aboutto work three night shifts in a row #also maybe i continued reading ongoing series wjile i was on hiatus and didnt rb them...my bad #the xmas period just about killed me at work #one of my managers was like 'thanks for ur work over the xmas period. sorry it was shit' #i said it was fine and he looked me dead in the eyes like 'you had 5 breakdowns and a weird creepy coworker on ur case. it was not fine' #ANYWAY i finally feel alive and recovered so mayhaps i will consume a fic and yell in some tags

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl.

Synopsis - The Universe shows you your soulmate when it feels like you need them most. When you least expect it, you're given yours - Bucky Barnes. Your Dad's best friend. You can try to refuse it all you like; but the Universe wants what it wants. There's no denying fate.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5.1k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content towards the end. mild alcohol consumption. age gap. smut in next chapter(s).

Author's Note - part one is finally here!! thank you so much to everyone who asked to be tagged, and who liked and reblogged the masterlist. i am SO excited to share this with you. i've built this world in my head and trust me it is gorgeous - salty ocean breezes, sunsoaked sailboats and billowing white linen shirts. i hope you can lose yourself in my little seaside town with bucky for the time it takes you to read this, just as i did while writing it. i can't wait to write more of this series for you x

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Requests. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight.

Tethering /tɛð(ə)rɪŋ/

An event in which two soulmates are bound together forever. Only occurs when the Universe decides it is time. No sooner, no later.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The gentle ocean breeze gives you a moment of respite from the scorching sun that's beating down. You're half asleep, laying on the cool tile of your balcony when your phone rings.

"Babe! Babe! Babe!"

"Lacie? Are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I am freaking out right now, oh my god. I didn't know who to call. You'll never guess what just happened to me!"

You can guess. In fact, you already have.

Lacie's Tethering. It's finally happened.

You're taught, growing up, that your Tethering is the biggest moment of your life. It shapes who you are forever. Sets you on your eternal path. You're presented with your soulmate in a big display of love and affection and metaphorical fireworks. It's supposed to be magical.

You wish people would shut up about it.

The World seems to be split into two categories - the people that have been Tethered, and the people that haven't.

You fall into the latter.

You're repeatedly told it'll happen one day. It'll happen when the time is right. It'll happen when you least expect it.

You're not sure you ever want it to happen.

The idea that the Universe determines the person you're with forever has never sat right with you. What happened to free will? What happened to personal preference? You believe you should at least have a choice in the matter. It's your future, after all.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment.

"Babe, you still there?"

Lacie's excitement filled voice pulls you back to reality.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Are you busy? Can you meet me for coffee, like, now?"

You take a deep breath and plaster a fake smile on your face.

"Sure. I'll see you in ten."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Oh my god babe, it was just incredible! You won't even believe it. There's nothing like it, truly."

You remind yourself quickly that Lacie is your best friend, and that you owe it to her to be happy for her. Personal feelings about soulmates aside.

"Tell me all about it, Lace!" you encourage, grabbing a hold of her hand excitedly.

The blonde girl squeals before shuffling closer to you, pressing her knees against yours.

"Okay, so. Picture this. I'm at my gym, doing my usual routine. I'm wearing my super cute pink Lulu Lemon set, you know the one with the flowers?"

She waits for you to nod in affirmation before she continues.

"So, I accidentally drop a weight on the ground, and it makes the biggest noise. I'm super embarrassed, and I'm trying to pick it up, but it's so heavy. And then, the hottest guy I have ever seen appears. Like, seriously gorgeous."

As much as you despise the whole soulmate thing, you can't deny how happy Lacie seems. She's almost vibrating with it, bouncing up and down in her seat.

"He comes over and picks it up for me, sets in back on the rack. And then he introduces himself, and shakes my hand, and it happened."

"What was it like?" you smile, eager for her to carry on.

"Like fucking magic."

You've heard that before. A million times. From literally everyone. Surely it can't be that magical if billions of people have experienced it.

"Magic?" you prompt.

"It is indescribable, babe. It's like... it's like everything just falls into place. Like everything finally makes sense!"

She jumps out of her chair, hugging you tightly. She's practically sat on your lap in the coffee shop, but neither of you really care.

"So, what's his name? What's he like?"

"His name is Cameron. He's new in town, he just moved here for work. He's a personal trainer, so he's like, super fit. And gorgeous. Did I mention gorgeous?"

"Maybe once or twice," you laugh.

"I'm so happy," Lacie whispers, emotion choking her voice. "I can't believe it finally happened. This is the day I've been waiting for since I was a little girl."

You hug her tighter, and ignore the look you get from the barista.

"I love you," she declares, suddenly serious. "You know that me being Tethered now doesn't change that, right?"

"I know," you confirm. "I love you too, Lace. I'm really happy for you."

You genuinely mean it. Lacie has talked about meeting her soulmate every day since you met her in the 3rd grade. You may have never quite shared her enthusiasm, but you admire her passion. And you adore her, more than anyone.

"So, what now? Are you gonna get married tomorrow and run off into the sunset?"

"I'm choosing to ignore your sarcasm because I know you're using it as a coping mechanism," she tells you pointedly. "And I know that there's a tiny part of you that wishes you'd been Tethered already, so you don't have to deal with everyone talking to you about it."

Jackpot. She's read you like a book.

"No, we're not getting married tomorrow," she rolls her eyes before continuing, "but we are going on a real date tonight. We're gonna get dinner and get to know each other. Isn't this crazy? I'm going on a date with the guy I'm gonna be spending the rest of my life with!"

"That is kinda crazy, actually," you laugh. "What are you gonna wear?"

"It doesn't matter - we're going to be together forever anyway!"

You make Lacie promise to send you a picture of her outfit as you're leaving the coffee shop, which she agrees to with glee. On your way home, you pick up some of your Mom's favourite wine, and prepare yourself for another soulmate based conversation that will inevitably happen when you tell your parents the events of the day at dinner tonight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hi, sweetheart!" your Dad beams as you step through the front door of your childhood home.

"Hey, Dad," you greet, allowing him to pull you in for a hug. "Where's Mom? I brought wine."

"Kitchen," he gestures with a nod of his head. "She's making that mango dessert you like."

Walking into your Mother's kitchen is like dipping your feet into a pool on a scorching hot day. The windows are propped open, curtains billowing softly in the wind. The ocean breeze drifts through the room, ruffling your Mom's dress and floating the hair away from her face. The evening sun beams in, illuminating the space with a golden glow. It smells like fresh fruit, mint, and salt water. It's a haven.

"Hi, Mama."

"Oh, my love! Just in time. I was about to call you to see if you were alright."

She makes her way over to you and kisses you on the head swiftly, before walking to the cabinet to grab wine glasses.

"Sorry I'm a little later than I said. I changed my outfit three times - it's warmer than I thought it was going to be."

"I know! Summer, finally. We've been waiting long enough."

She takes the bottle of wine from your hand and pours it into the glasses.

"You've poured four, Mama."

"Didn't your Dad tell you? Bucky's joining us for dinner."

"Oh. No, he didn't mention anything."

"He's back from his vacation. He promised he'd show us all of the pictures he took!"

She grabs the glasses and floats out of the room, leaving you alone in the kitchen, thoughts of Bucky Barnes swirling around like dust in the sunlight.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky.

Your Dad's best friend.

They met a few years ago, when Bucky moved to town. He said he was looking for something quieter, sick of city living. He wanted to slow down a bit, finally take a breath.

He was out for a run around town, getting his bearings, when he stopped your Dad on the driveway to ask about his car. They bonded over their love for motorcycles and vintage vehicles, and the rest is history.

Bucky's been a regular fixture in your life for so long, you can't remember a time before. All you know, is that it was probably a little more peaceful. His boyish charm is infectious, bringing out the youth in your Dad. They're like teenagers, when they're together. Long lost frat brothers, your Mom jokes.

She's got a soft spot for him. Most people do. It might have something to do with the fact he's devastatingly handsome.

It's no secret that Bucky Barnes is a ladies man. He is without even trying. He's charming, gorgeous, funny in all the right ways. He's mysterious, but not disarming. Tough, but not scary. Rebellious, but not a liability. He's a catch.

A catch, with a taste for beautiful women.

Your Dad always jokes that he's the towns most eligible bachelor. You can't count on two hands the amount of women you know that have dated him - but nothing seems to stick. He isn't Tethered, after all.

Some people choose not to date, if they haven't met their soulmate. They wait and wait, and when the time comes, they're complete. Others take pleasure in dating before it happens. Might as well make the most of the freedom, Bucky said once. You can't help but agree.

Might as well make the most of the freedom.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Hey, buddy!" you hear from the hallway. You make your way out of the kitchen to be met with the sight of Bucky, sun-kissed and practically glowing. His hair has a few light streaks from the sun, and the faint freckles on his cheeks are more prominent now. His steel blue eyes meet yours, mischief rife in them.

"Hi, honey," he greets, draping an arm around your shoulders. He kisses you on the cheek, light stubble scratching your skin. You throw an arm around his back and look up at him.

"There's no way this tan is natural," you tease, nudging him slightly.

"It makes me even more gorgeous, doesn't it?" he jokes, winking at you. He squeezes your shoulder before letting go, grabbing a bottle of wine from his bag.

"I brought your favourite, Lori."

"So did I," you echo, laughing.

"Great minds, honey. Great minds!"

"You can never have too much wine," your Mom yells out from the kitchen doorway. "Bring it in here, Buck. I'll put it in the refrigerator."

"Yes ma'am," he obliges, making his way to her with a smile on his face.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Guess what happened today," you begin, in between bites of your strawberry salad.

The three of them look at you intently, urging you to continue.

"Lacie got Tethered."

"How exciting!" your Mom squeals.

"That's a long time coming," Bucky chimes in. You look at him and smirk.

"Tell me about it."

"Here we go," your Dad smiles. "Our two anti soulmate protestors."

"Don't make it sound so political," Bucky laughs. "She's the only one that gets it."

"I've said it a thousand times, and I'll say it again. Just. You. Wait," your Mom lectures. "The two of you don't get it."

"Magic, fireworks, eternal love, blah blah blah. Trust me, I get it."

"She gets it," Bucky echoes. "And so do I. The Universe decides our fate, and we get no choice whatsoever. I don't believe in it, is all. I have no faith in the system. I should get to choose."

"But you feel like you are choosing," your Dad defends. "It didn't feel like it was being determined for me. It's hard to explain."

"It's just so... backwards," you justify. "I can't believe we live in a Universe where we have all the choices in the world, but don't get to choose the person we spend the rest of our lives with."

"It's worked out pretty well for us," your Mom smiles.

And it has. The first thing anyone notices when they meet your parents is that they are undeniably in love. You've never met two people more perfect for each other - which should solidify your belief in the Universe, really. But it doesn't. You can't explain where your lack of faith in it came from. It just appeared one day, and you haven't been able to shake it since. You're grateful every day to have two Tethered, happy, smitten parents. You've seen how hard it is for people with Untethered Mothers and Fathers. The judgment, the uncertainty, the hushed whispers. It sounds unbearable.

"Yes it did," your Dad confirms, shaking you from your thoughts. He reaches for your Mom's hand and kisses the back of it tenderly, eyes never once leaving hers. You look to Bucky next to you, who smiles at you gently. Feelings about soulmates aside, the both of you love these two people sat across the table with all your heart.

"Trust me, sweetheart," your Mom begins. "I know you're against the idea now - God knows I was the same at your age. But when it happens, you'll forget about all of your rebellion. You'll just be happy."

You nod in agreement, praying for the conversation to be over. As if he can read your mind, Bucky pipes up.

"Let me show you some pictures from Italy. I did promise I would."

You shoot him a grateful look before picking up your empty wine glass and making your way to the kitchen for a refill.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The dining room is now lit solely by candlelight, wax dripping onto the white lace tablecloth like condensation on a cold glass. The sun fell asleep hours ago, the four of you enjoying each others company with no regard for time.

"Oh, shit. It's late," your Dad says suddenly.

"You got big late night plans?" you tease.

"We have Clara and Mike's wedding at the weekend, so we're flying out tomorrow. We should probably get some sleep, so we're not exhausted."

Your Mom rises from her chair and kisses you on the head, before grabbing the dessert bowls from the table. Your Dad helps, smiling every time his hand brushes hers accidentally.

"Thanks for coming, kiddo. Your place next week?"

"Of course. I think I'll try that salmon recipe you sent me."

"Can't wait," your Dad assures you, giving you a one sided hug. He squeezes you once before letting you go to grab your shoes.

You can hear your parents saying their goodbyes to Bucky as you tie your laces, smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you stand. They all join you in the hallway, Bucky leaning over to grab his jacket from behind you. Fuck, he smells good.

"Have a great time at the wedding, you guys. Send me pictures, please!" you say as you hug your Mom goodbye.

"We will! Drive home safe, the both of you!"

They shut the door softly, leaving you and Bucky stood on the porch. The evening air chills your bare legs, salt in the breeze sticking to your lips.

"Where's your car?" he asks, looking around.

"Oh, I walked. It was a nice day, and I'm trying to be a little greener. Save the planet, and all," you chuckle.

"You want a ride, then?" he offers, leaning against the side of his truck.

"Uh - maybe," you hesitate, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You feel antsy, for some reason. There's a buzz flowing through your veins, making you a little restless.

"Maybe?" he smirks.

"I just, I'm not sure if I wanna go home yet. It might be that I've had three glasses of wine, but I'm kinda... jittery? Think I need to burn off some energy. Maybe I'll walk home."

"Like hell you will," he grumbles.

You quirk a brow in confusion.

"It's dark, and all those college kids are in town on their break. I don't trust 'em."

You fight to keep the grin off your face. You weirdly like it when Bucky gets protective. He's always so calm, so relaxed - it takes a lot to rile him up. He looks hot with a clenched jaw.

"Why don't we go somewhere?"

"Where?" you ask tentatively.

"I don't know," he thinks for a second. "How about the beach?"

You smile, gazing at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

"I fucking love the beach."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The ocean waves break the shore steadily, the repetitive pattern calming you both. You're sat on the sand, grains slipping through your hands where you're pouring it out through your fingers. The light of the moon reflects off the surface of the sea, illuminating the abandoned cove. It's just you, Bucky, and the night sky.

The alcohol in your system has evened you out, warm buzz keeping you sheltered from the chill. Bucky's stretched out next to you, strong arms folded underneath his head. His shirt rides up slightly, exposing a slither of sun kissed skin. You pretend not to notice his Adonis belt, or the little trail of hair that leads down into his waistband.

The silence is easy, comfortable. You don't get to hang out like this often, just the two of you. It's nice.

A notification on your phone breaks through the tranquility. You both flinch.

"Sorry," you mutter, checking the screen. "It's Lacie, telling me about her perfect date."

He chuckles lowly at your tone, sitting up to look at you.

"This is hard for you, isn't it?" he asks. "You hate the whole soulmate thing, but you like seeing her happy."

Bingo. It's like he's read your mind.

"I don't know why I hate it so much" you confess quietly. "It's a part of life. I can't avoid it. I just think - what if... what if I'm like, the exception, or something? What if I never meet my soulmate - or - what if I meet them when I'm like, seventy? That happens, you know! And then I'll be fucking cursed to spend my entire life feeling like this."

"And what is this?"

"Hopeless. That's what this is. I just feel pretty fucking hopeless."

You're not sure why you're baring your soul to Bucky tonight. You could blame the wine, but you know that's not what it is. Maybe it's because he seems to be the only one that understands.

"Me too," he whispers.

You whip your head around to stare at him in shock. He laughs at the look on your face, and continues.

"You're young - you have time. I'm forty in a couple of years. Every single one of my friends is married to their soulmate - except for me."

You bite at your lip nervously, but refuse to tear your eyes away from his steel blue ones. His face is lit by the glow from the moon, and it takes your breath away for a second. He looks almost ethereal.

"You always act so... unbothered. I didn't realise... I guess I just, I didn't -" you try to gather your thoughts before continuing. "This fucking sucks, huh?"

He laughs with his whole chest, and you're convinced the sound is so special, so rare, that you should bottle it. Sell it as medicine. It'd cure anything, you're sure of it.

"Yeah, it does," he agrees with a chuckle. "It's the waiting around that's the worst part. The unknown. It could be minutes, it could be decades. I just don't know."

"At least for now, we have each other," you joke.

"Every cloud has a silver lining, huh?" he teases, nudging you with his shoulder.

You allow your weight to press into his side a little, leaning in. He's warm, and he's familiar, and in this moment, he understands you better than anyone else in the world.

"We'll be okay, honey," he murmurs. "It'll all work out the way it's supposed to."

You close your eyes, and allow his words and the breaking waves to calm your nerves. Bucky wraps an arm around you, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're not sure if it's the honest conversation, or the brisk ocean breeze, but you've sobered up in record time. Your body registers this, and sends a shiver down your spine.

"You cold?" Bucky asks you. "You wanna go home?"

"Not yet," you whisper. "Not yet."

He shrugs off his worn brown leather jacket and slips it over your shoulders. It smells so strongly of him that it makes you dizzy. Bucky settles back down in his original place, returning his arm to where it was draped over you. His rough fingertips rub patterns into the material that now covers your arms, and you wish, for a fleeting moment, that it was your bare skin instead.

"You been working on anything new recently?" he enquires in a hushed tone, careful not to ruin the atmosphere.

"I made a damn good batch of macarons yesterday," you reply, beaming smile etched across your face. "Raspberry and lemon. I'll bring you some, next time I pass the Garage. You're gonna love them."

"You know, I think the only reason I ever get Mechanic of the Month is because you bring by all of your sweet treats."

You laugh melodiously, and the sound makes Bucky's heart stutter in his chest without warning.

"Happy to be of service," you tease. "I take requests, too, if you ever want something specific. Just let me know."

"You're the best, sugar."

You sink into Bucky's hold a little, daring to rest your head on his shoulder. When he doesn't stop you, you exhale, and relax even more.

"Are you working tomorrow?" he asks.

"Nope. You?"

"Nah. I'm going sailing, finally. It's been way too fuckin' long," he grumbles. "Your Dad's usually my right hand man, but he'll be in Ohio. You wanna come?"

The idea of laying on the deck of a boat in the blazing sunshine with a shirtless Bucky Barnes sounds like heaven. Who could say no to an offer like that?

"Yeah, of course. I'll bring a picnic, if you like. It's the least I can do."

"Sounds perfect," he replies, squeezing your shoulder.

Suddenly, he rises to his feet, extending a hand out to you. You grab it, and he pulls you up, the both of you shaking sand off yourselves.

"It's late, and dark, and a little cold. You ready to go?"

You nod your head, and make your way over to his truck, ignoring the heat that blooms over your chest when he opens the passenger door for you before his own.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Thank you, for tonight," you say as he pulls up in front of your apartment building.

"Thank you," he replies, killing the engine. "It's nice to have you back, you know. Wondered if you were gonna finish college and stay out there in California. Thought we might not see you again."

He almost sounds... relieved. The idea that he might have missed you if you didn't return effects you more than it should.

"I liked it there, but... I don't know. My family's here. I'm only twenty three. I've got time to move around the country. I missed this place too much when I was away."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that," he chuckles.

"I know, trust me. They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"Yeah, they say a lot of fuckin' things," he jokes.

Bucky swings his door open, hopping down from the drivers seat. He makes his way over to your side, holding out a hand so you can jump out.

"Careful," he warns. "It's higher than it looks."

You grab his hand, and step onto the metal sill. Your foot slips slightly, sending you tumbling down and forward, out of the truck. Luckily, Bucky catches you, one hand in yours, other on your hip.

"Woah, easy. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," you breathe.

He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, searching for any signs of distress. You place your palms over his, silently reassuring him.

And then, it happens.

Warm, golden, molten electricity surges through your veins, lighting up each and every one of your nerve endings. Your surroundings explode into glorious technicolour, everything suddenly brighter and more vibrant. It feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest, only to be replaced by one that beats in a slightly different rhythm. There's flowers blooming in your ribcage, new life happening inside of you. You catch eyes with Bucky, expecting to see his stormy blue ones looking back at you. Instead, all you see is your future.

Vivid, flashing images of Bucky Barnes fill your mind, each one of them tinted with a warm, rosy hue. You feel like you're being reinvented. Your skin is alive, hyperaware of the way Bucky's palms are still gently cupping your cheeks. Your fingertips tingle with anticipation where they rest on his, itching to touch every inch of him. You feel as if the oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with love.

Your knees are the first to buckle, the weight of the moment taking you down. You hit the ground, and so does Bucky, his palms not once leaving your face. You're both kneeling on the warm concrete, ocean waves providing a distant soundtrack. Blood is rushing in your ears, and you wonder for a second if you're about to pass out. You squeeze Bucky's hands so hard, it's a miracle you don't break his fingers. He squeezes back, eyes locked on one another.

After what feels like an eternity, you both break out of your reverie. You lean forward, resting your forehead against Bucky's, both of you panting.

You're trying to catch your breath unsuccessfully. You move one of your hands to rest on Bucky's chest, right on his heart. You swear the steady beat of it spells out your name.

He mirrors you, and moves his own hand to rest above your frantic heart, the other still glued to your cheek. You both breathe, in and out, trying to match each other. When you finally do, it's as if time stops. It's just you and Bucky. One heartbeat. One soul.

You break away from him to look into his eyes again. They look different, you think. He looks different.

He gazes back at you, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. The moonlight dances off your faces, illuminating the moment both your lives changed forever.

"It's you," he breathes in disbelief.

A laugh escapes your chest, surprising you both. He chuckles with you, and before you know it, the both of you are in hysterics, sitting on the sidewalk at three in the morning.

"Of course it's me," you giggle. "The two people that hate soulmates, Tethered together. You couldn't write it."

Bucky grins at you, clutching at his stomach.

You both take a breath, and realise your surroundings. Bucky gets up first, heaving you up by your arms. He towers over you, suddenly close. Not close enough, you decide. Never close enough.

You lunge forward and crash your lips to his. Bucky instinctively wraps one arm around your back, moving his other hand to hold you by the back of your neck. He tastes like salt and spearmint and every kiss for the rest of your life.

Bucky presses himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing you to come closer. He aches to climb into you, sew himself into your ribcage. He'd be content to live there, beating your heart, forever.

You whine, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You tilt your head back, and fist your hands into his shirt, plastering yourself to his front. He shoves his thigh in between your legs, the rough denim a welcome contrast to your soft skin. You buck your hips forward, and the friction is so delicious it makes you dizzy. You've never been kissed like this. It's almost feral. You're both surrendering to your fates, giving in to the animalistic urges coursing through you.

A seagull caws on a nearby street lamp, and the sound makes you both jump. You suddenly realise your scenario. Your Dad's best friend, who also happens to be your soulmate, has you pressed against his truck in the street, kissing you like he's running out of air and you're his only oxygen source. If it goes any further, you'll both get arrested for public indecency.

"Fuck, sugar," he murmurs against your mouth. "My pretty girl. My honey."

"My soulmate," you whisper.

The reality of it comes crashing down like a tsunami, drenching the both of you.

Bucky kisses you again, gentler this time. The tenderness makes you want to cry.

"What do we do now?" you mumble, fear coating your voice.

He senses your trepidation instantly. He feels it, actually, right in the front of his chest. It's like you suddenly share one body. There's no guessing, anymore. He knows exactly how you feel.

He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his building anxiety. He knows that if he stays calm, you'll stay calm. That's how Tethering works, right? He has to keep it together for the both of you, despite the panic that's rising in him, vibrating in his bones.

"How about... how about we both go to bed, get some sleep - and then we go sailing, later on today, just like we planned? And no matter what, we take everything one step at a time."

"One step at a time," you repeat, attempting to pacify you both.

"We'll figure it out," he reassures. "I know we will."

You find the will to step apart, which proves harder than you thought. It's like Bucky's an anchor - fastening you to peace, to happiness, to serenity. The more distance you put between your bodies, the more unsettled you feel. When you're not touching him, it's as if everything becomes unsteady, more difficult. You feel like you're on a rogue sailboat, battling the waves, threatened to be thrown overboard. Bucky is your lifevest, your lighthouse in the dark night. You're not sure how you're supposed to live your life any more than two feet away from him at all times.

You breathe, and smooth down your dress, running your fingers through your hair. You reach out and adjust Bucky's shirt where it's been wrinkled due to your tight grip.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he murmurs, fingers tangling around your own.

"Goodnight, Buck," you echo.

He leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, savouring the taste of your cherry lip balm. He wraps his arms around you, unable to resist. Bucky breathes you in deeply, smiling uncontrollably. Nudging your nose with his, he murmurs gently against your mouth.

"My honey girl."

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[meiieiri]

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: toji will never forget the first night he spent away from the zenin clan and the day he met you.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | song inspo: saw you in a dream, timeless | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse but generally pretty much a fluff fic where toji and y/n meet for the first time. | a/n: finally launching my little love project called “hidden inventory: the lost tapes”! 🍒

Now isn’t this just perfect?

Toji’s is just one inconvenience away from just going back to the Zenin clan with his tail between his legs. First, he underestimates just how expensive living in Tokyo is so, with what little pocket money his emotionally distant mother gave him before he left the estate, the first thing he does is spend it all on a girl — in broad daylight — he’s heard his brother, Jinichi, talk about those cute little call girls that crawl the streets of Kabukichō with flyers in their hand for thirty-minute “massages”. Naturally, as a young man who is only first experiencing the carnal joys the city has to offer, Toji was curious and he took the bait.

A bait that cost him ¥30,000 and the girl was unfortunately sloppy at best.

Now, he doesn’t have money to buy so much as a soggy red bean pancake for dinner. He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking around this dingy part of Shinjuku but as long as the red light district’s trashy ambience is distracting him from the growling of his stomach, then, he’ll stumble around this hellhole until morning.

“Ha! You won’t even last two minutes out there!” That’s what Naobito Zenin, the head of the clan said to him when he left. “Only two things await you when you get out of here, either you’ll die hungry or a cursed spirit will get to you first — either way, you’ll die with your eyes wide open with no one!”

Overrun by his thoughts, Toji doesn’t even notice that he accidentally intruded on a random cockroach and curse-infested alleyway that apparently belonged to some junkie who is now angrily telling him to get lost. “I was just looking for a place to sit down,” Toji scoffs. Weren’t they both bottom feeders in this city? Why was this rancid-smelling meth addict acting like he’s any better than him?

“Well, go sit somewhere else, this place is off-limits!”

It was almost funny how Toji thought that the world beyond the gates of the Zenin estate was any better than the shit show he was born into.

He should have known better than to be enticed by the glitz and glamour of living independently from his abusive family who at least had the decency to feed him maggoty rice from the estate’s second storehouse dedicated to prepare the animals’ food. They also gave him shelter, of course, he’s had to live in the Zenin estate’s shed for a while now since his father discovered he was born useless without an ounce of cursed energy. But at least he was warm, and the termites made him feel less lonely.

He continues on in his aimless quest. The night is still young. There’s plenty of time for self-depreciating introspection.

Hopefully, that grade three cursed spirit that’s been following him around the block for a while now gets to him first before the rain does.

“That guy over there,” your coworker whispers to you from the cash registers. “He’s been there for a while now and he hasn’t ordered anything.”

You look up from your pocketbook, your eyes curiously trained on the rugged looking man whose eyes were downcast, trained on the service water he requested from the counter when he came in. As if he could feel a pair of eyes on him, he looks up, and glances your way for a bit but you quickly hide your face behind your book.

“He kinda looks like trouble, no? Shady too, just look at the scar on his lip…”

“It’s not fair to judge someone like that, Rika-chan,” you whispered to your junior, turning to arrange the menus, painstakingly wiping each one clean with a cloth dampened with sanitizer. A small smirk appears on Toji’s lips at your passive defense of his character and as if to goad you on, he drums his fingertips against the table daring you to say another word. “Anyway, I’ll handle closing the shop tonight. You need to get home since you have class in a few hours.”

That seemed sudden. Rika looks at you funnily before shrugging off her apron in favor of her raincoat. “Well, alright, if you insist. Should I clean up the kitchen at least?”

“I’ll handle it,” you give her a thumbs up, waving her goodbye as she leaves through the backdoor. Now that you’re alone, you could hardly stop yourself from glancing at the mysterious man, and Toji himself wonders if his presence here is starting to turn into a nuisance. You were probably waiting for him to step out so you could close shop for the night but it’s raining hard right now and there are no other places open nearby to take shelter in.

The chair’s feet screeches against the wooden floorboards and you head to the restaurant’s kitchen. Toji stares at your retreating form, looks like he overstayed his welcome. He searches around for a few coins to give to you for your hospitality, of course, it probably doesn’t mean jack shit, but you must have known he didn’t have enough money for a meal when he came in here. You would have realized that immediately. But you allowed him to stay regardless.

You return a couple of minutes later with a bowl miso soup with ginger pork gyoza and shredded cabbages. You set the bowl down in front of him and Toji is thoroughly taken aback, he looks at you dumbfounded. “I don’t have any money,” his voice comes out a little gruffly but you barely flinch at the sharp edge of his tone.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Refilling his water, you explained that while you could have easily stuffed those leftovers back in the freezer, customers wouldn’t want to eat frozen food, so, you decide to heat these items up to give to him instead. “Oh,” Toji answers a little dumbly. “Or you could have thrown them out.” He stares at the sumptuous meal in front of him. Even in the Zenin estate, he never had such good food laid out in front of him before and it was surreal to see a stranger do the things his family should have done for him.

You return to the counter, leaning on your forearms as you engage in light banter with him. “You’re saying I should feed rats over people?” you chuckled, sitting back down, smiling softly when Toji gingerly bringing the bowl of miso soup to his lips, the rich earthy broth warming his throat that he lets out a content sigh.

He smirks at your little remark. “I’m saying you shouldn’t make a habit of feeding strays.” He polishes his soup bowl clean within minutes and you have to remind him to slow down every now and then as you watched him eat ravenously. “You never know when you could get that dainty hand of yours bitten off.”

You blushed pink at that. He was right, being too generous could cost you dearly one day but being the altruistic soul that you are, you’ll probably continue to be graciously selfless despite the risk of being taken advantage of. It’s just how you are as a person who believes that a little kindness can make the world better than it was yesterday. “I…don’t really know about that…whether I get bitten or not by the people I help isn’t really something I can control. The world would be better off if people just learned to be kind to one another.”

Toji hums at your naive countenance, folding his arms over the table. The room is silent for a few minutes save for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. “You’re kinda dumb, aren’t ya?”

“And you’re a pessimist,” you answered, quirking an amused eyebrow at him. “Who doesn’t even know how to say thank you.” You stand up to clear out the table, a teasing glint in your eyes as your curious orbs collide.

Toji scoffs, leaning against his seat, crossing his legs. At his reluctance, you shake your head, giggling softly. What an infuriating interesting guy. Toji hears the rushing of tap water from behind the counter and he smiles inwardly. The rain begins to slowly stop and he takes this window of opportunity to leave.

You don’t even try to hide your disappointment when you come back to the dining room only to find it empty, the stranger having left nothing in his wake — not a goodbye, not a thank you, and certainly not his name — except a single rusty five yen coin on the table.

Clang-dong!

“Hello, welcome—“ You stop mid-sentence. Your throat constricting with a mix of emotions, the most dominant one being joy at this happy chance, you’d recognize those sharp dark green eyes anywhere despite only first seeing them a week ago. After all, they looked so dangerously beautiful under the dim light of the dining room’s ceiling lampshade. “—back. Welcome back,” you smiled brightly at Toji.

Toji nods, his hand coming up to cover his lips as he coughs once. “Thanks…ah, right — shit, where is it?” After rummaging around his parachute jacket’s many pockets, he finally takes out his wallet and you look at him, bewildered, when he hands a few hundred yen bills to you. “For last week. Sorry I couldn’t pay you back then.”

“It’s fine.” You take his larger, calloused hand and return the money which Toji responds to by stubbornly placing it on the table.

Toji pinches the bridge of his nose when you playfully return the gesture by rolling it up and placing it in his jacket pocket, buttoning it. “Look, it was real nice of you to treat me back then, but I’m not a charity case, alright? I just wanna pay my dues.”

“Then, a simple ‘thank you’ is enough.” Toji just couldn’t understand you. You have absolutely no reason to be nice to him, but you are. For a moment, he begins to fall into the enticing thought that maybe life outside the Zenin estate won’t be too bad after all if there are people like you still around just waiting at random corners to be found in joyful happenstances such as waiting out a storm at a random family-style restaurant over a heartwarming serving of miso soup with tender pieces of gyoza and cabbage.

Relenting, he smirks at you, unable to figure you out. “Thank you.”

“Anyway, need a table for lunch?” you smiled warmly at him as you lead him to the table he sat in a week ago which you now affectionately refer to as ‘his’ table instead of table number four.

Toji nods following your lead and chuckling when you hand him the menu. “Where’s that thing I had last time?“ he oddly flips through the booklet.

“Oh uh…it’s not on the menu actually, but I could make that for you if you’d like.”

“Sounds good.” Toji hands you back the menu. You are just about to scurry away to the kitchen when he calls out to you. “So, do you have a name or should I just keep referring to you as gyoza girl or something?” Embarrassed at the way your knees seem to become weak at his boyish grin, you have to take a few deep breaths before turning around to face him again. “I’m Toji.”

He doesn’t say his last name. He doesn’t feel the need to anymore now that he’s finally closing the door to his past. You nod, noting how the name suited him. It’s brief but strong, muted but loud in its rhythm. Toji. At that moment, you find it impossible to name a prettier sound. After a few excruciating minutes in the kitchen, you come back out with two bowls of miso soup this time around and you sit down on the chair directly in front of him.

“Y/N.”

Toji repeats the melody of your name in his head. “And how much do I owe ya for this, Y/N?”

You shrugged as the two of you dig in, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you chew the steamed gyoza, joining him as he laughs (well, he’s scoffing more than actually laughing, really), his eyes alight with wonder, when you simply say, “Five yen.”

#—​𝙝𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮: 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨 🍓 #𝙚𝙥: 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙥 #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fluff #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x y/n #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x you fluff #jjk drabbles #jjk headcanons #toji drabbles #toji headcanons #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x y/n #toji x you fluff #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #toji imagines #toji x you angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[chxrryhansen]

౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s Cevans Series Rec List

thought i’d make a list of all the best cevans (characters) series i have read!! i have lots more to add and will continue to update this list🫶🏻 i will also create a one shot fic rec list in the near future💖💘💞

Preying On You Tonight - @evansbby

“Steve is the cocky, brash and domineering alpha who makes your life at university a living hell every day. You’re the complete opposite - quiet, meek and reserved. You’re convinced Steve hates you, but what happens when he finds out you have a boyfriend? (a/b/o dynamics)”

Wicked Games - @evansbby

Ari is the campus fuckboy and you’re his little plaything. But he’s telling the truth when he says he’s going to make you his girlfriend soon, right?

What A World - @onsunnyside

S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that. [tarzan!Steve Rogers x doctor!reader, nomad!steve, size difference]

Just Because I Won’t Die For You, Doesn’t Mean I Won’t Kill For You - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd Hansen is just another job for you. Your last job. However, when he decides that he wants to take you for a ride and have a good time, well...how’s a girl supposed to say no?

Closer To Heaven And Closer To You - @georgiapeach30513

When your boyfriend, Ransom wants to take a trip back home to the ranch to meet your family, you are unsure.  Knowing that a rodeo is in town could only mean your ex, Frank Adler, was most likely riding for eight seconds, still trying to beat his best friend, Steve Rogers.  All you wanted was a nice time, not old memories bothering your brain.

Just Like The Caged Bird - @georgiapeach30513

You are a widow who moves back to her husband's hometown after selling your in Georgia home.  Moving in above your brother in law's garage.  Sharing the space with his friend Bucky Barnes, but your other brother-in-law Andy causes problems, along with your overprotective brothers.

Pretty Petals - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems. (multi-character)

His Koala Bear - @kinanabinks

you and steve have been best friends since you were 5. for the longest time, he has wanted so much more from you. and it's getting harder for him to stop himself from taking it.

Belong Here - @angrythingstarlight

Steve has been looking for his perfect girl and suddenly there you are stuck in this dingy restaurant. You don't belong here, you belong with him.

Finding Home - @navybrat817

Steve finds a home with you. (lumberjack Au)

Their Doll - @kaiparker-avengerssmut

y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

No Better Than Beast’s - @lokislastlove

You’re an animal rights activist who sets out to put an end to animal testing… but it’s a risky mission. (Dark!Steve Rogers)

Doppelgänger - @boxofbonesfic

Your husband’s twin brother has always made you uncomfortable, and after two years of marriage, you finally find out why. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale + Dark!Lloyd Hansen)

Million Dollar Man - @chrisevansgoodgirl

your relationship with ransom and his insane family.

Brooklyn’s Sweetheart - @spacesnail3000

Bucky and Steve had always been meant to keep her safe and happy. As far as anyone else was concerned, that was their sole reason for being alive. Unfortunately, the things that kept her safe were not always the things that kept her happy. Lately, she was making it pretty damn hard for them to compromise.

Let It Snow - @spacesnail3000

She was his Omega, and Steve had a plan. She would love him. He knew she would.

Sweet Renegade - @cevansbrat0007

A new arrival in town leads to an unexpected complication in the form of a sexy as sin Bounty Hunter named Ari Levinson.

Evergreen, Evermore - @babyjakes

loving husbands jake and ari had always believed they were all each other could ever want or need. but one unusual summer, when their world is turned upside-down by an uncanny girl from down the street, they find that having someone to love, nurture, and care for together is the missing piece that finally completes their perfect family and lives.

A Huckleberry Is Nothing Without His Hummingbird - @dbnightingale24

Lloyd and Y/N have been amicably(ish) divorced for four years. However, when earth shattering trauma come their way, will they lean into what they truly want, or will the flames from past traumas still burn too bright?

Civil war- Brooklyn - @saiyanprincessswanie

Ten years ago the Readers world was turned upside down when her father was killed by Hydras Brock Rumlow. She believes the loves of her life Steve Rogers and James “Bucky” Barnes were also killed while trying to avenge her fathers death. Reader is now working for the FBI on a task force that is meant to take down Hydra. She volunteers to go undercover to take down Hydra. In doing so she not only puts herself in the cross hairs with Rumlow but she gets to meet the mystery men causing Hydra issues. Who are the Captain and Winter Soldier? What lengths will you go through to uncover the truth and seek revenge?

The Boston Brute - @time-for-a-lullaby

When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake. 

Planet Evans Universe - @astranva

In which Chris was a nervous mess when he met his A+ list celebrity crush, highest-paid, and the most iconic actress, you, at Vanity Fair’s 2014 after party. (Following the life of overprotective!dad!Chris x wife!actress!reader!)

Don’t Speak - @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (Dark!Andy Barber)

Cat and Mouse - @queen-of-the-avengers

You’re called the Vixen because you were HYDRA’s favorite creation. You’re very hard to catch, and once you are, it’s even harder to keep you.

Let’s Ride - @starryevermore

You’re a single mom and have just moved into a new town. You have no interest in looking for love, but the funny thing about love is, it waits for no one. (Biker!Ari Levinson)

Out Of The Darkness - @sunshinexsin

Sienna Jons has lived in Boston for three years now after graduating and is running her own salon in the city. With a small group of friends sticking by her side, she's content with her life. Enter Chris Evans, a known and feared mob boss in Boston’s underground crime world. Coming out of a long relationship ended in a bitter divorce, Chris isn’t looking for anything serious until Sienna crosses his path. Trying to win her over proves difficult for the man who seemingly has it all and Sienna is not willing to be with someone who causes such destruction in his own hometown. Sienna soon finds herself entangled in the crazy, violent world of the mob and struggles to find a way to either live with the hardened man Chris has always been or get away from him before her own life spirals out of control.

Murder He Wrote - @wiypt-writes

You’re sent by your asshole boss to do a review of a Celebrity Host Haunted Mansion, hosted by none-other than the arrogant, wild-eye browed actor Lucas Lee, but you’re worried you’ve missed the boat…that is, until at the last minute, an email arrives to say they can let you in on the last admission that night, which just happens to be Halloween. (Dark!Ransom Drysdale)

Poison Paradise - @the-iceni-bitch

Robert Pronge was sure he could settle for a fake domestic life as long as he could go on killing. Little did he know that you could give him everything he needed.

A Bun In The Oven - @witchywithwhiskey

the leaves are changing—green fading into golden yellow, burnt orange and radiant red—and the days are getting shorter and colder as autumn settles in. it's the perfect time of year for baked goods, fall foliage, book stores, and to curl up next to (and get under) our favorite man with a plan, steve rogers

Wilford’s Demands - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Wilford places you in Curtis’ care so he can impregnate you.

In The Balance - @goodgirlofglory

One unsuspecting evening, the stranger Steve Rogers appears bloodied and in need of aid at your doorstep. You immediately catch his eye, and he forces himself upon you within the hour. Several months of repeated visits from him results in your pregnancy, and the night you find out, Steve intereceps you on your way to an abortion clinic and kidnaps you to his mansion. Will you carry the child to term? Will you buckle under the pressure of capitivity? Will you escape the grasp Steve has on you, or will you submit to it and your own, conflicted desires?

Drowning Siren - @rogerswifesblog

The Avengers found an old abandoned HYDRA base, that had been cleared after HYDRAs existence had been exposed. At least they thought it was cleared. It was the biggest experimental lab they had ever seen, the closest base to the ocean, full with creatures-dead creatures. Some of them laid still on tables, stripped with metal cuffs, open and already rotting. It was an awful smell. But then they heard something beautiful. A melody, a beautiful voice singing unbelievably gentle sounds. Walking into the building full with ocean creatures, they had no idea their life was about to change.

Vampire Kings Religion - @marvelcriminalhoe

In a world where fantasy beings roam every corner, the humans are on the bottom. Looked at as weak and disgraceful. The vampires are the opposite. They rule the land, and all of the creatures that take part of it. the current ruler, King Steven, has ruled for more than 150 years, alone. After many nights, and long talks with his most trusted hands, he comes to the long awaited decision that he will finally, take a wife. All female creatures, are to be evaluated, so he can find his perfect match. Of course, no one expects for him to choose a human. Especially not one from the church. Especially not the daughter, of the leader, of the church. The same church that detests the mythical creatures, wishing for nothing more than for them to perish in fire. How could this union possibly end well?

Ride And Prejudice - @pagesoflauren

A take on Pride & Prejudice, certain circumstances in your life have led you to take refuge and work in a farm village, particularly on the ranch owned by Steve Rogers. He doesn’t take kindly to you, having bad perceptions about city folk. Your only reaction to that is the one you deem acceptable: get annoyed at every little thing he does whilst doing your best to annoy him and still keep your job.

Love On The Brain - @howardpotts

You’re just a student, living her normal daily life in New York. One night changes everything, without you even knowing. Steve Rogers slowly introduces you to his world full of money, drugs and voilence. But are you able to handle what he has to offer? (MobBoss!Steve Rogers)

Flamingo King - @onsunnyside

The sun is brutal this summer, especially in Flamingo Trailer Park, the land of big hearts and cheap tricks, you’ve been here for years unlike your “new” neighbour, Ari. He’s older, bigger, and intimidating, the local rockstar, and you, well, aren’t you just the sweetest girl in the whole damn city?

Make It A December To Remember - @imyourbratzdoll

AGE AND SIZE DIFFERENCE IS ADDED TO ALL! SANTA AND THE GRINCH ARE LARGER THAN THE READER! THE ELVES ARE THE SIZE OF HER PALM! (a chris evans xmas universe)

This Love Is Bad - @wildestdreamsblog

You were just trying to escape your past, and Ari was trying to chase his future.

Nowhere To Run - @sagechanoafterdark

On the last day that Steve spent in your small town before heading off to basic training for the army, he made sure it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. Years later when he appears in your town he seems like a changed man in more ways than one, but you’re ready to show him that you’ve never forgotten that day. (Dark!Steve Rogers+ Bucky Barnes)

Nice To Be Kneaded - @rogersideup

Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. Steve Rogers face had been plastered on the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. It had been just a few long months shy of a year, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, he found himself in the scanty town of Greenwood in the house right next to yours.

Forever And Ever More - @syntheticavenger

Ransom Drysdale may be Boston’s most eligible Alpha who has his eyes set on you. With his inheritance hanging in the balance, he won’t take no for an answer, whether you like him or not.

Hackers Heart - @bakugousaysdie

steve rogers has always been america’s golden boy, leading earth’s mightiest heroes and serving his country. you have always been bad with boundaries, a little too curious, and an absolute disruption. you are an absolute menace,so it’s only right you fell in love with the most adored man in the country.

Arranged - @time-for-a-lullaby

Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

#chxrrys fic recs #chxrrys masterlist #chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #lloyd hansen #andy barber #ari levinson #chris evans fic recs #steve rogers fic recs