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autismprotocol · 3 days

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TMAG Theory Board Update (EP 11-12)

Hi guys sorry about the late posting I've just started a new quarter of college and its been pretty hectic. also got into my school design BFA program so pretty stoked about that! Anyways lets get into the Episode Breakdowns because even though not a lot of lore related things happened I still have a lot to talk about

For the breakdown I'll separate each by episode in sequential order

What Happened in Episode 11: Marked

Celias Rude Awakening- we jump right into the weirdness straight away with Celia waking up on the side of the interstate. she indicates that this is not a weird occurrence and ends the scene by telling someone named Jack that she's "on her way." If you remember episode 8 after Celia and Sam talk to Gerry and Gertrude, she mentions stuff about wanting help with her own mystery. When Sam asks about it she says she's looking into Time travel, other dimentions and teleportation. Many people have theorized that maybe Celia is just a super heavy sleepwalker, but I think the she teleports random places out of nowhere. This could be a side effect of her reality hopping if this Celia is originally from The archives universe.

As for the identity of Jack I'm not quite sure about that yet. I cross referenced the name Jack with past episodes of TMA. The only thing that came up was Jack Barnabas from the statement about dating Agnes Montague (aka an avatar of the desolation and Jesus-like figure for the cult of the lightless flame) So Unless Celia is secretly Agnes of Agnes reincarnated , I can't find any way to link Barnabas to Celia. (if anyone has a theory feel free to send it my way.)

Sam Lore- this one is pretty minor story-wise but I thought it was interesting. Before the statement for the episode is presented we get some classic Sam and Alice Banter ™ most of it is pretty lighthearted but I noticed Sam mention something that could indicate he might be an amputee.

These could not mean anything and I find it weird that it hasn't been mentioned until now but thought it was kind of cool and I will probably be drawing sam with a prothetic leg in the future cause I really like this head-canon. It also begs to question if he is missing a leg. it might have anything to do with his past as a Magnus institute test subject but then again could just be a fun character detail added by Jonny and/or Alex .

The Statement- Getting into the statement we get another Ink5oul appearance. Also possible Ink5oul identifying as she/they. (and lets be honest being a fear avatar is pretty non binary core). I found this Episode gave me a feeling of a hybrid between the Vast, Buried and the Flesh some people are theorizing that is might be a new entity called the Deep but I think that the fear of the ocean could easily apply to the vast or buried. Not much to say about this story though pretty standard Magnus horror that also gave us a hint to what Ink5oul's goal could be/which entity they serve.

Post Bonzo- Gwen has a debrief with Lena after her first Externals Liason assignment and her meeting with Mr. Bonzo. Undoubtedly Gwen is still pretty shaken from her encounter, even arriving late to work due to sleeplessness. Gwen is able to ask Lena a few questions mainly she wanted to know who's name was written on the letter given to Bonzo

Lena is largely unhelpful but tells Gwen she should have worked it out by now and if not to pay close attention to the case load for the next couple of days. before the latest episode my guess was Klaus because that is the only person mentioned so far that the OIAR intends to kill. but more on that later

Marked- Now were getting to my favorite thing about this episode. This episode title can have two meanings. The first is the more literal interpretation. Tattoos are marking of the body and the case this episode was all about tattoos so easily a good name would be marked. But I believe this is a red herring meant to misguide listeners who have not consumed all 200 episodes of TMA because if you know the world of Magnus Archives the term Marked takes on a entirely different meaning.

In TMA the term marked is used to indicate that somebody has been influenced by one or more or the fears and are one their way to becoming an Avatar. I think this could be a coded way to tell the audience someone in the OIAR has been marked. I have two potential candidates

Alice Dyer- Alice has been having dreams about the Institute after her and Sam's adventure into the ruins. also she mentions feeling like someone's watching her (common to people influenced or fed upon by the Ceaseless Watcher/The Eye) My guess if she is marked it would be by the Eye.

Gwendolyn Bouchard: Probably the most likely culprit. The main way an entitly tends to mark people is through encounters with other avatars. Gwen has just had an encounter with Mr Bonzo last episode who I strongly believe must be an avatar of some sort.

What Happened in Episode 12: Getting Off

Aww Sam!!- Sam asked Celia out and it was adorably awkward. not much to say I just loved this interaction and I'm longing for a new Magnus brand office romance hopefully is wont be an agonizing slowburn that ends tragically like a certain pair of morons from Archives (I love you Jon and Martin but Jesus christ)

It's Bonzo time bitches!!- Probably one of the most gruesome Magnus statement I've ever listened to (good work Alex) Mr Bonzo completely annihilated some poor dude at his bachelor party. Based on the date of the Incident the I can confidently say that whoever Baz (the groom) was he was our mystery person the OIAR sent Mr Bonzo to get rid of. Along with some of the bloodiest imagery we learned a few things about Bonzo. The most interesting detail is that Bonzo has to be summoned by playing his theme song I think the CD of his theme song acts somewhat like the tapes did in TMA by materialising out of nowhere. Also fun fact you know that torn seam that is right down Bonzo's middle? that is actually is his mouth lined with rows sharp teeth so I guess I know that now (so fun) Moral of the story dont f*ck with Mr. Bonzo

Alice knows something: Theres been this recurring audio glitch throughout TMAGP thatnks to a few extremly observent fans we have started to relize that these glitches are not at all random and are actually letting the audience know when a character is lying (i actually reposted somones deepdive into all the istances of this glitch so far if you guys are intrested in knowing more) why i bring this up now is becuase since we know when any charater is lying we also know when they are being truthful if there is no glitch when they say somthing and at the end of this episode this interaction occurs

Alice goes ahead and makes a joke about this to annoy Gwen but the fact theres no audio glitch when she says "I know" means she does actually know who is behind the OIAR and is activly refusing to share it with Gwen or the others. What do you know Alice!?

and that's about it im already loving these next batch of episodes and am so excited to learn more (ERROR has to show up somtime )

thanks to everyone who resonded the poll on the last update I will continue to include drawings into the breakdown even if it takes me a little bit of time to post. anyways I wrote this all in one sitting and I'm about ready to pass out so thanks again and the ask box and comments are always open for discussion and theory crafting.

-Echo

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tteokdoroki · 3 months

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THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel? TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back.

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work.

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him.

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much.

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think.

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together.

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed.

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window.

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick.

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY.

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace.

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious.

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami.

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time.

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you.

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute.

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk.

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you.

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?”

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol.

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.” the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.”

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him.

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.”

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.”

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper.

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?”

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!”

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

“then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.”

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?”

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.”

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…”

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin.

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles.

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe.

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo, kids,” he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy.

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss.

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss.

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami.

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,”

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event.

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office.

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia.

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper.

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time.

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you — happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents.

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home.

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to.

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift.

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you.

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him?

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.”

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.”

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.”

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle.

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly — his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions.

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays.

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all.

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.”

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice.

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?”

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?”

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.”

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.”

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?”

“pardon?”

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up.

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.”

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?”

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady.

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart.

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.”

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.”

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve.

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple.

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together.

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angelltheninth · 7 months

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Gojo Being Too Dense to Realize Your Feelings

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, crushes, flirting, confessions, kissing, friends to lovers, blind to love

A/N: I would smack him over the head with a sign if needed.

Dense!Gojo is so used to people flirting with him that he doesn't see when you're doing it in order to date him. It's always mostly teasing for him so there's not a lot you can do on that front that he hasn't already seen and written off. No matter what you try he smiles at you every time, giving you that flutter in your chest, which goes nowhere because he doesn't flirt back.

Dense!Gojo starts to wonder why you're speding so much time around him when you could be focused on other things. He noticed that when he's around your focus seems to shift in his direction at random times, which can be bad in a fight. Figuring that he's the problem he tries not to get in your way as much as possible, but that only makes you look for him more.

Dense!Gojo actually likes spending time with you too, but it's hard for him to realize that all those get together can be seen as almost dates. When you confront him about avoiding you he offers to take you out to lunch as an apology, failing to see how it sounds when he also tells you not to worry your pretty head about what happened because he really likes to spend time alone with you.

Dense!Gojo doesn't think twice about throwing his arm around you when he greets you. He's a naturally touchy person, he's like that with so many of his friends, especially the ones annoyed by it. Your blush is taken as embarrassment or being flustered that he did that in public. One time he tried it when you were alone and you almost had a heart attack.

Dense!Gojo will gladly eat any food you bring him without question. When he accepts it he will lift his blindfold and wink at you before wolfing down the food, singing your praises while he eats. Seeing how much he enjoys the food you begin to pack extra just for him, a fact everyone else picks up on but you.

Dense!Gojo greets you at the door half naked and tells you to get inside, not even slightly frying to cover himself up. You on the other hand are freaking out about seeing him like this and having him so close to you. He thinks you're impressed by him so he tells you that you can touch him whenever you want, once again failing to realize how that would sound out of context.

Dense!Gojo is stunned when you kiss his cheek for the first time. It shouldn't have been a big deal, just a farewell kiss after a mission, no different then when he would greet you at a big event. He spent the entirety of the next day thinking about it, which normally didn't happen for him. This feeling wasn't unfamiliar to him, but the sheer intensity was. Usually he would get a crush slowly over time, not have this sudden wave of affection and desire crashing over him.

Dense!Gojo talks to his friends about this and is shocked when they point out all the things that you've been doing and hasn't caught onto. He has a blindfold but he's not blind to you, he always notices you, he always laughs when you laugh, he's always worried about you, he's always looking forward to seeing you the next day... oh. Maybe his eyes aren't as good as he thought.

Dense!Gojo feels like an idiot for the fact that he needed his friends to help him realize his mistake. He decides to confront you about his mistake, and by that he means confess his feelings for you as well. A little intimidating because he looks so damn serious about it too, at first. Then he laughs about his own stupidity and tells you about what he realized in the past few days. It's a lot to hear, your own feelings being reflected back at you after so long.

Dense!Gojo takes off his blindfold when he kisses you. For a brief moment you feel like you're in his Domain. When you blink again you're back in reality, his eyes closed because his wide grin. A little bit on the smug side too cause he's finally figured it out. It may have taken him a bit but now he's ready to be the best boyfriend in the whole world.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen headcanon #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk imagine #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #gojo imagine #gojo headcanon #gojo fluff #x female reader #jjk #gojo satoru #jujtsu kaisen

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ilycosy · 3 months

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❝ DO YOU MIND ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x child of calliope!reader

summary — being the child of the mother of all muses, you're used to affections. boys and girls flock to you like you're a sweet, lovely thing, but they soon drop it when they realize that you're nothing like a muse. what happens if the camps precious, golden boy starts talking to you?

warnings : reader is a little toxic under their politeness, reader is also described to be feminine but there's no specific prns! luke is also kind of obsessive? he wants reader so bad.. not proofread (that's for babies /j)

aﾉn — i haven't written in a long time so bare with me, nor have i written for the pjo fandom ever (though ive been in it for a while..) this is also vv self indulgent (daughter of calliope here <3) so sorry if this isn't relatable ♡ lowercase intentional :)

being the child of the mother of muses has always been annoying— you've never had a break to just be. whether it be people chasing after you, or people who envy the attention you attract. there was always something, which you resented extremely.

if people were asked about you, they'd have only good things to say. you're beautiful, lovely, polite; but not a muse. it sometimes got annoying that it mattered so much to people, having others constantly talk about how you were never romantic.

you seemed to be uncomfortable with it at the very least, very few felt the resentment you held for love. those few could never confirm it though, having you reassure them that you're just a private person. ("there's no need for grand things, dear. i love you without such things." you'd say, through gritted teeth.) which is what might have drew luke castellan to you.

he saw through the politeness, observing you almost ever since you got claimed. he can picture when you got claimed, your embarrassed smile when an apollo girl had written a song for you. publicly performing it, you had lit up; literally. you were fifteen then— nothings changed in these past years.

luke can't remember all the times you've been confessed to, having songs, poems, even paintings done of you for your affection. but he can remember all the times he watched your facade crack; the way your smile stretched too wide to be real, your eyes dimming when you realized it was just another confession, or how you seemed to never interact with aphrodite boys anymore.

he finds it amusing mostly, how could such a pretty thing resent something people would kill for? either way, he finds himself being drawn in like you're a siren. the way your eyes darken at the mention of your mother, how you reapply gloss whenever you're nervous— he could go on really.

"are you going to eat that?" he finds himself asking you before he can stop himself, pointing at the yogurt bowl right next to your plate. he has half a mind to make sure he doesn't clam up when you look up at him, fluttering your lashes.

you gently push the bowl towards him, continuing on your morning like the best swordsman in the camp isn't talking to you. he pauses for a moment, licking his lips as he thinks of a reason to prolong this conversation.

fate seems to be on his side though— his brother, chris, being to busy talking to clarisse to even glance his way. he sits down, looking across from you as he eats the yogurt. he almost forgets that staring is rude.

"do you mind?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him as you take a bite out of your crossiant. somewhat annoyed by the curly haired boy, your leg bounces steadily. "do i mind what?" he asks, like he's stupid— for some reason, you can't help but let your annoyance take over.

"why are you here," you start, pointing at the empty table. void of friends, you always sit alone until somebody claims they're in love with you. "you usually sit with your brothers and annabeth."

he shrugs at your questioning, not being able to find it in himself to hold back a teasing remark. "you know where i usually sit?" he asks with a small small, but the glint in his eyes show a certain smugness that gets under your skin.

you smile back at him, stretched too far and there's a bite in your voice hidden under honeyed words. "bye castellan," you croon sweetly. "hope you find your way back to your seat!" is all you give him, a morsel of fake attention that sends him reeling.

the next day, you wake up a bit later than normal. rising from your bunk around nine means you've missed breakfast, a deep feeling of anger surges through your core in a flash before you stretch and get dressed for the day.

when you leave the hermes cabin, you're stopped by a familiar figure. tall, brown hair, and a stupid smug grin. "hey angel," luke almost sings with how pleased he sounds with himself. "i have a presant!"

he reveals a crossiant and cold coffee, the faint warmth of the once fresh crossiant eases the deep feeling in your core even more though the coffee makes you want to vomit. "i don't like coffee." you state, taking a bite of the baked good. "but thank you, castellan."

he barely has time to respond with a you're welcome or an im sorry before you're smiling, too wide for his liking, and walking away. he debates following you, trying to talk to you like he's desperate for a friend. but he decides against it, wondering how to keep a conversation going with somebody that hates being sought after.

a week passes of the same routine— luke catching you at odd moments during the day, offering you little things to keep you around for a moment longer. you find it annoying, but keep a pleasant attitude anyways, it certainly helps that he's not bad to look at.

a small rumor spreads through camp, luke castellan having a crush. it barely takes the day for people to speculate that it's you.

it almost disappoints you, not having expected the camps favorite to fall so easily— doesn't he have any other girls? you debate on telling him that you're not open for relationships right now, having been in so many already, you could very easily blame any one of your exes.

but you don't have the chance to reject him the next time you see him because he's talking already, smiling at you like you'd fall so easily. "do you wanna help plan an activity with me?" he asks, offering you a delicious smelling tea.

"why would you want me to do that?" you question him, almost allowing yourself to have a genuine lazy smile but you just force a docile confused tilt. you sip on the tea, the once tart raspberries are now sweet in the tea mixing with a hibiscus flavor.

you're too busy drinking to notice him begin talking, he's mid laugh when you tune in. "— maybe you could help with setting up the theater?" he suggests, you pretend like you know how you got into a full conversation with him by subtly trying to exit it.

"why not have the apollo counselor help?" you say sweetly, setting the tea down and turning your full attention onto him. he feels sick to his stomach at how you look at him, soft features with a sugared tone. your eyes look at him like he's below you, like he's a nuisance, and for some reason that might be his favorite part.

he searches your face for a moment, glancing at your cold eyes before he chuckles. "maybe i want to spend time with you," he smiles like a cat, curling on his face with a pride that shouldn't make you as heated as it does. "i think you want to spend time with me too, yeah?"

you almost roll your eyes at his suggestion, but unable to squeeze out of this one without being mean, you agree to help him.

it only takes a couple weeks to fix up the theater due to the lack of counselors wanting to help, so it's safe for the younger kids to have a play— after that, it's back to the apollo children to plan. you sit back on the stage floor, sipping on a water bottle as you bask in the cold dusk breeze. "do you mind?"

a voice speaks from behind you, rasping slightly. you don't even have to look to know who it is, "no, castellan." you say, because you can't think of a reason for why you would mind.

luke sits himself down next to you, his knee brushing yours as he looks down at your water with a stare that could only be described at halfway pathetic and endearing. "here," you say, handing him the bottle. "i don't need you to die of dehydration on me."

he takes it gratefully, drinking it almost empty in three big gulps that make you roll your eyes with a small scoff. "did you just scoff?" he questions, an odd excitement in his voice.

you quickly try to deny it, hands coming up to animate how you didn't scoff or anything of the sort. but he already has a grin like he's drunk of the noise, "you definitely scoffed! that was so funny," he says with a loud laugh that makes you shush him, afraid of other campers hearing.

"i don't know why you hide that." he mumbles on your hand, fighting the temptation to lick it so you release him. those thoughts subside when your pretty eyes look up at him in confusion, "your annoyance." he clarifies.

"im not annoyed," you say, a bit defensively as you pull your hand away from him. "bit rude of you to say that, castellan."

he rolls his eyes in response, one of his arms coming behind you to rest on the stage. you can feel the ghost of it barely grazing you, "you're definitely annoyed," he says matter-of-factly. "you're almost always annoyed, or angry."

you fight back a scoff, but then give up. rolling your eyes you turn to him, searching his face for how he noticed, why he's doing this— but you come up with nothing. "why do you care?" you almost snap at him, drumming your fingers on your knee.

"i don't," he says like it's obvious. "im the same way." there's a beat after he says it, a silence that seems more comfortable than awkward like it should be. admitting his anger to you felt like a breath of fresh air, because he knew you'd understand him.

you bite your bottom lip, turning to face him. "that hatred," you start, almost in disbelief that you finally have the opportunity to talk about this. "it doesn't go away huh?" the question is phrased more like a statement, barely asking for confirmation.

he nods, not speaking as he watches you. there was no need for an explanation on what the hatred was, he knew as soon as you began talking. the gift from your mother was never really a gift to you, a burden of what it means to be a demigod is all it was.

you never knew what was genuine, or what was your mothers doing. but you felt a sense of ease with the hermes boy, nothing like all your previous relationships. "do you think it's bad," you mumble, almost ashamed.

"do you think it's bad that we feel this way?"

your question is softly spoken, genuinely interested in his opinion. he feels himself almost feel guilty for you, but he can't lie. "no," he wraps an arm around your waist. gently bringing you closer. "i think we might be the only ones in the right."

he says it with such confidence, a lack of guilt or unease in his voice that it makes you smile. not a sweet one, but a prideful one. one that could reflect the pride of a god, finally validation for the deep seated resentment that almost quenches that thirst for revenge.

minutes of silence pass by, the sun fully set as you lean your head on his shoulder. inhaling the pine and deep smell of his cologne, you hum. "are the rumors 'round camp true?" you ask.

he feels a small blush creep up his neck and ears, spreading across his face as he realizes that you heard about those. he never meant for his half-brothers to over hear a private conversation (said private conversation was in the bathroom, luke washing his hands while chris talked loudly about how he could get clarisse to go on a double date if he'd just ask you out already.)

"uh," he laughs awkwardly, his fingers drumming on the soft skin of your waist. "do you mind?"

you can't help the small smile that spreads across your face, "no." is all you need to say before his wet lips are on yours. hungry and desperate for your attention, which you give him without another thought.

#cosywriting #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fluff #castellanswrld

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betty-bourgeoisie · 10 months

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The thing I find most concerning about the sudden and rapid declines of platforms like Twitter, Reddit, and to a lesser extent Discord and Facebook, is the loss of digital third places that will result from it.

[Definition: a Third Place is a space outside of work or the home that you spend a significant amount of time in. Usually a social gathering place like a church, library, park, or gym]

It's a known issue that physical third places are disappearing. Cities, malls, and shopping centers have cracked down hard on loitering, resulting in a lack of public space for people to just hang out in. Parks exist, but their use is usually dependent on weather conditions. Church attendance has been in decline for decades for a lot of reasons I won't get into here. Libraries exist but they're not a good place to talk with friends. And pretty much every other third place I can think of (bars, game stores, bookstores, coffee shops, etc) requires you to spend money if you want to be there. None of these are new observations, smarter people than myself have written whole books on the loss of in-person third places.

Social media has been filling in the gap left by these third places for the last couple of decades. As physical space has become less accessible we've migrated online to find community - and especially during COVID, social media was really the only place you could socialize with others. None of this is new information either.

But the current issue, that I've seen very few people talking about, is that companies are starting to price and bully people out of those digital third places the same way they did with physical third places. The difference is that it's happening much faster, and usually at the whim of just one or two people. These are not broader sociological trends slowly shutting down social spaces like what we saw with the decline of shopping malls. There will be no slow adjustment to another social medium. We are seeing individual billionaires making a choice in real time to monetize people out of some of the only public social spaces we have left.

I've seen people bemoaning the loss of information that comes with these sites collapsing, but personally, I am far more concerned with the loss of social space. Don't get me wrong, social media of all kinds is an absolute nightmare, but for many people (and especially for teenagers who have more restrictions on where they can go and what money they can spend) online space is one of the only places they can reliably go to socialize.

In a country like the U.S. where the federal government is calling loneliness an epidemic this is actually a much bigger concern than I think a lot of people realize. How many people have more online friends than in-person ones? What happens to rates of loneliness as social media platforms become inaccessible and people lose those connections?

Obviously, the preferred answer is that people will go make more friends in person, but remember that in-person social spaces have already been severely limited. This is not the easy option that you might hope it is.

My actual call to action on this is to fucking fight to get your in-person third places back. Talk to your local representatives about repealing loitering laws - organize protests or ballot initiatives about it if you have to. Work with rotary clubs and parks departments to fund new public restrooms and park shelters. If there are places in your community that provide free workshop spaces/ game nights/ art walks/ etc go to them and support them financially when and if you're able. Go to your local library and check out a book so they get more funding! I know this shit can be boring, but things are only going to get worse if people don't have places where they can connect with each other. We can't keep letting capitalists take community spaces from us.

#reddit #twitter #social media #third places #long post #196 #rant

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talesofesther · 1 year

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yours only

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: You make Wednesday feel something she never felt before; jealousy. And maybe a bit of something else too.

Requested by anon

A/N: First time writing for her, who stole my heart pretty quickly. I hope this is okay, hope I could somehow capture her personality that's definitely not an easy one. Let me know what you think. Requests for her are open. <3

Masterlist

You felt a little petty, just a little, as you walked amongst the woods to meet Xavier in his secret spot, the one where he stored most of his paintings.

But he's been a good friend of yours ever since before Wednesday came to Nevermore, and if she can spend however long she wants in that coffee shop, why can't you do the same?

You weren't expecting to fall for her, in reality, you couldn't stand her in the beginning. But one doesn't choose one's feelings, and when underneath all that secrecy and nonchalant attitude she does things like; take an extra tray of breakfast for you when you wake up a little late, or help you in class when you forget the particularities of a flower, or even send Thing to your room in the dead of night with a written note for you to meet her the next day for an outing, which was code for sneaking out to investigate, but the gesture is there.

It was safe to say you were a goner. As much as it might be — her words, not yours — a terrible decision.

But lately, Wednesday has been distant. And you were jealous, even if you didn't have the right to be. So over the past week, you've been spending a good amount of time with Xavier. He's been helping you with your drawing skills, the piece you're working on now is almost done, and you're quite proud of it.

The entirety of your day is spent in Xavier's shed, laughing and painting and getting your head off of things. You think you see a dark silhouette spying on you from outside, but when you go looking, it's gone.

It's already late at night when you do go back to your dorm, your roommate is sneaking into her boyfriend's room tonight, so it's just you. You're looking forward to the quiet night.

You open the door to your room with a yawn escaping your lips. Your backpack is thrown somewhere to the side and you don't care much for where it lands, you stretch your muscles, a little sore for being in the same position most of the day. Only then do you take a glance over your room, and in the right corner, sitting by the end of your bed on the floor and mostly covered by the darkness, is Wednesday.

You almost jump out of your skin. With the way your heart is beating under your hand, you swear your soul did leave your body for a second; "holy shit Wednesday, a little warning next time."

Wednesday gets up, taking a single step towards you before deciding against it, her eyes never leave you. "You're distracted today, why?"

"Hello to you too," you grumble, taking off your jacket, "and, how did you even get in here, the door was locked."

There's a ghost of a smirk on her burgundy-painted lips, and it gets you wondering if they'd leave a print on you if you stole a kiss. "You can't expect a simple lock to stop me," Wednesday tells you.

You chuckle, knowing damn well there were few things out there that held any power over her. You just don't know that you happen to be one of them. "no, of course not."

A beat passes where you just look at each other, both waiting on something, wondering whether the other person’s feeling the same way. The air feels heavy around you, almost electrical.

You clear your throat and walk past Wednesday and to your wardrobe to pick up your pajamas, figuring a shower would do you good.

Wednesday has a staring contest with the back of your head as you rummage for clothes, her jaw is set tightly in place and she hates the feeling that's in her stomach right now. "You didn't answer my question," she says, with more bite than usual.

You huff, running a hand through your hair as you turn to her again. You walk up closer, your personal space mingling with hers.

She sucks in a sharp breath when you stop before her, her gaze darting to your lips before settling back on your eyes. It's so fast that you don't notice it.

"What question?" You ask.

Wednesday gulps, twisting her words into what she really wanted to know; "why are you spending so much time with Xavier?" She deadpans, as if she couldn't care less.

Your lips tilt up on the sides, because you know better, but you won't indulge her just yet. "Why are you spending so much time with Tyler?"

"This is childish."

"Indeed."

"His father is the sheriff, and I need information on the attacks," Wednesday raises her brow, "my relationship with him is merely convenient."

You bite the inside of your cheek, nodding softly, "well, Xavier has been my friend for years already, so…" You shrug and walk around her, heading to the bathroom.

"It doesn't look like it."

"Like what?" You turn and ask impatiently, waiting for her to do the same and look at you again.

Wednesday does so slowly, staring at you through her lashes. "Like you two don't want to be more than friends."

There's something complicated about her tone that you can't quite put your finger in. Her eyebrows are a little crooked, her eyes glinting just a little brighter under the moonlight and her hands painfully closed into fists. You realize she's upset.

You soften. For her, this might just be the equivalent of a crying plea. You walk over to where your backpack lays forgotten on the floor and carefully pull out your sketchbook. The cover is black and a little worn as you run your fingers over it, taking a steadying breath.

You sit down on your bed with it and pat the space beside you.

Wednesday regards you with caution, she's lost and not in control, two things she absolutely hates; however, she doesn't feel as uncomfortable when it's with you. She takes calculated steps to your bed and gently sits down beside you, closer than she thinks she should have, but it's too late to back down now.

"Xavier has been giving me a hand with a few of my drawings," you explain, opening your sketchbook on the last page you used, "and uh- this is the one I'm working on."

Wednesday takes the sketchbook from you, holding it tenderly between her fingers as if it could fall apart. Her heart beats erratically against her ribs, for a moment she thinks she can hear it. The feeling is foreign to her.

The drawing is a perfect picture of her, undoubtedly by your eyes, as she sits beside you in class, focused on her notes. It's a sight you're all too familiar with, one that you love. The lines are a little rough still, all black charcoal and dark ink; tracing the lines of her jaw and hair to perfection. It's pretty, probably not a word Wednesday usually would use to describe herself, but it's true now.

"I couldn't see Xavier as more than a friend," you tell her quietly, so as to not break the bubble of intimacy around you, "I'm afraid that spot is already taken."

Wednesday's gaze snaps up to you, and you think that's the most emotion you've ever seen her let on. You wish you could bottle this moment up like fireflies in a glass jar.

You reach out a hand, and Wednesday holds her breath before you even touch her, you do too. Her hair, deep black and so incredibly soft, meets the pad of your fingertips as you push it behind her ear. The motion is all delicacy and shyness, just a breath over the fragile line between you and her.

Wednesday's lashes kiss her cheeks when her eyes almost drop closed for a millisecond before she takes back control. She's stiff, hands now with a bruising grip on the sketchbook, "what are you doing?"

You inch closer, and when she doesn't pull away, you gently cup her cheek; her skin is a little cold under your touch. "What do you think I'm doing?"

For the first time in her life, her words get caught up in her throat before she forces them out; "Something you'll regret."

Smiling against your own volition, you whisper; "do you really believe that?"

Wednesday wonders if you're aware that you're killing her slowly; agonizingly, because you're so kind with her demise. She's the one who closes the gap between you, when you're just a hairs width away from her, one hand letting go of your sketchbook in order to bunch up your shirt in her fist and pull you to her.

It's everything you're not expecting, her eagerness, urgency even. She's kissing you like she's trying to memorize you, not sure if you're real or not. It's still soft though, still uncertain, still her.

When she parts, it's slowly, her lips almost refusing to let yours go. The outlines of your mouth are faintly smudged with her lipstick, testimonies of her affection, of how lucky you are to have it.

The sight pulls a smile from Wednesday, and consequently from you as well once you see it. Because albeit small, her smile is real, and you think you already have your next project for the sketchbook.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story

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chelleztjs18 · 9 months

Text

Spiraling Thoughts (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: Wanda's spiraling thoughts get between both of you.

Warning: Hurt/Comfort angst, swearing words.

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hello! Another post, another angst from me. I didn't proof read this, sorry in advance for typos. More angsts are on their way :D Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Happy and excited. That’s how you feel right now because today is the day you have been waiting for. You have been crossing the dates on the calendar to today’s date. A red “Moving day!” is written on the calendar.

You have packed all your belongings. Stacks of boxes are ready. Your brain tells you that you might need two trips to drive all of them with your car to Wanda’s place.

You have been dating Wanda for an amazing year and a half. Both of you are head over heels in love with each other. You have been giving hints for a few months that you are ready to move in together. Since then, it has been the talk you both have. A month ago, your girlfriend finally agreed to live together.

You are so thrilled and Wanda is happy if you are happy. She knows it from how much you talk about it.

Since then, Wanda has been reorganizing her place for your belongings to fit in. She loves simplicity, her place wasn’t the biggest but it was enough for her to live alone. Wanda tried to prepare everything for you when the day came. Being the overthinking she is, she even did some research on do’s and don'ts or tips for this relationship’s big change.

“I’ll be leaving soon. See you soon,babe!” you texted her. Wanda checks the time then puts her phone down disappointedly. You are late again. The only thing about you that she doesn’t like. Wanda is a punctual person, she hates being late. To watch you being late or waiting for someone who is late is torture to her. Every second slowly but surely irritates her even though she tries not to.

Wanda’s mind starts to spiral before she knows it. All other anxious thoughts force their way to re-exist.

She starts to think what if she has to deal more about being late because of this certain bad habit of yours. What if there are other untolerable habits or differences that show up after both of you living together for some time that might have a domino effect in her relationship with you? Or what if all of this is too soon? Is she actually ready for this? Or is she just doing this to make you happy? What happens if things don’t work out between both of you?

What if…? What if..? What if..? These two words are really pushing Wanda’s to the edge. Her heartbeat starts to double in speed. Her fingertips start to get colder and her hands seem to shake. It’s getting harder for her to breathe. Emotions slowly overfill her heart and mind.

Your Sokovian girlfriend is panicked and scared by now from her overthinking mind. Everything seems spinning. The ticking from the clock on the wall sounds louder gradually in her mind breaking the muffled sound around her. An hour later, the doorbell finally lets her get a break from everything she is experiencing.

Wanda rushes to the door even though her steps feel so heavy. She knows it must be you with all of your stuff, moving in with her. Oh dear, the closer she gets to the door, the heavier her heart feels. Thoughts flash in her mind for a second, the thoughts that you for sure don’t want to hear.

“Hi babe!.” You greet her followed by an apology as you give her a hug. An awkward smile curved on her face. Wanda tries to hold back her spiraling feelings, she is trying hard.

Wanda hugs you back but you know her pretty well, you notice even the slight difference but you try not to overthink. “Y/n, you are late again.” Flat yet irritated was her tone no matter how much she tried to hide it. Wanda glances at the boxes in your car to avoid your gaze whenever you try to look at her.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m working on my punctuality more, Wanda. I promise.” you apologized. You thought that being late was the reason why Wanda seems a little off.

“Well, that’s what you promised three months ago and still, nothing changed.” a snarky comment forced its way out of her lips and you got caught off guard by it. Your forehead creases your eyes while you mind quickly try to figure out what’s going on.

“I’m sorry, Wanda.”

The view of her shrugging her shoulders and her smile slides down to a frown as she turns around then walks away from you. “Wanda, what’s wrong?” you ask and follow her.

Wanda picks up her pace a little to be away from you. “Nothing.” That was all her answer to you. Again, her eyes avoid yours. Everytime you get closer to her, Wanda would move further from you. Walking around from one room to another, she cleans randomly as her steps shift from one spot to another.

“I don’t think we should bring your boxes in yet, detka.” Wanda suggests. Your stomach churns a little after hearing her idea. You love hearing her calling you with any pet names but this time, you are not a fan of it because of the tone.

“Why?” Your eyebrows furrowed. You are waiting for her answer anxiously, standing behind her.

“I’m still cleaning this house, Y/n. That’s why.” Wanda’s tone is slowly filled by such resentment. Her voice raises a little.

“Wanda, the house looks fine and very clean. I know you pretty well. You are cleaning randomly, moving around from one spot to another right now. You only do it when you are upset or something bothers you.”

“No, I’m fine. We can just keep your stuff in your car tonight until I’m done with this house.” Wanda’s tone gets colder.

“Wait, what? What did you mean? Keep them in my car overnight?” your forehead puckered in confusion. “You heard me.” she responds while continuing whatever she is doing with a pout that looks more and more obvious.

“What about my clothes and—” you try to get more clues on what’s going on but Wanda didn’t let you finish. “You can wear mine or borrow whatever you need..”

“But, you told me that everything’s ready. I even made sure with you yesterday about today and you said yes. Something is off, Wanda. Tell me, what’s wrong?” you rambled.

“Nothing..is wrong, y/n.” Wanda denied all your words. You noticed she looks way more unease. You follow her yet Wanda still avoids you from being too close to her.

“No, something is wrong Wanda. You smile differently. You–”

“Y/n..” she calls.

“You didn’t hug me the way you usually do. You–”

“What are you talking about?” Wanda tackled your assumption with the pretend confusion.

“Yeah, you know what I meant, Wanda. You clean randomly and—”

“Oh come on! What stupid theory was that? You should’ve known me, for crying out loud! I..love..to clean.” Wanda lets out her irritation and anger through the way she puts down things.

“You clean loudly. Sometimes you put things or close stuff loudly when you are upset.” you lined up more supportive examples. Wanda walks away from her bedroom to the living room, leaving you but you are determined to get the answer. “Fuck, y/n. Just please stop.” Despite the curse word, Wanda still tries to suppress her voice that’s raising up angrily as she starts to feel cornered.

You take a spot in front of her to block her path of avoidance.“No. No. I won’t stop until I get my answer. What’s going on? Why on earth that all of sudden I can't unload the boxes. I’m really confused right now. There’s–”

She didn’t let you finish once more. “I already told you why.” she gives you a second of death glance before she takes the sideway to walk away from you again.

“Yes, you did but it wasn’t the truth Wanda. You lied. Are you getting cold feet about us living together?” Just like that, your question instantly stopped Wanda and she snapped as she turned around to you.

“What if I am?!” Wanda can no longer keep herself together. She finally spilled the painful truth. meanwhile you are too shocked to respond to it. A soft gasp forced its way to be heard. You swallow hard and your heart drops in a millisecond before the brunette continues to pour her thoughts out.

“What if I’m freaking out right now? This whole thing is too soon, too early or whatever we can call it.” words after words and thoughts after thoughts flowed in such anger the more her mind thought about it.

“Too soon? Wanda, you agreed about this. We have been talking about us living together. We plan this. I thought you wanted it to happen as much as I wanted to?” you argue back with a pinch of genuine confusion.

“Do i, y/n? Or was I on board with it just because you keep giving me hints of what you want? You wanted the truth, right? There it is!” Wanda places both of her hands on her hips as she looks away just so you won’t catch her eyes slowly turning glossy from tears.

After a few seconds of pausing her words, she continued. “You were late coming here, it’s your habit. We both know that. What if you never change? What if there are other things, habits or — or — or differences that trigger us to argue? Imagine if we turn to that couple who fight constantly. What if it doesn’t work out for us?”

Your head hangs low, you look down somewhere random. Anywhere but her eyes. You shake your head slowly followed by a disbelief chuckle. “Wow, you talked like I WILL be or I am the cause that everything won’t work out between us in the future while you are actually the one that shattered the dream that we had. Oh I’m sorry, babe. Let me rephrase that, MY dream, not yours.” you lift up your head and look at her eyes mid sentence and let sarcasm end it.

Your heart aches. In your point of view, Wanda is being unfair to you and it provokes more words out of you. “So you changed your mind?”

Her voice fills the room before the deafening silence ate it all up. You can hear her take a harsh breath. “Y/n—”

“It’s a yes or no question, Wanda.” you demand her answer as you keep looking at her.

Wanda clenches her jaw in silence but it was an obvious shortcut to reach your conclusion. It was enough for you to dig out the answer.

“Y/n, can you just—” Wanda once more trying to avoid your question but you are not having it.

“Leave? Don’t worry, Wanda. I will. I’m gonna go home.” With that, you turn around and walk towards the door. You were hoping that she will try to stop you from leaving but a gut twisting fact shows that she doesn’t even try and just stands there, looking down in an expression that you can’t really decipher. You slammed the door as you walked out that made Wanda flinch a little.

What just happened? Is it over? Was I being selfish? What on earth is going on? Both of you are lost in your own thoughts and questions with no answers. Despite all the thoughts, Wanda stays where she is. She doesn’t know what she feels right now, everything is overwhelming for her even until right this second. She feels drained and tears slowly fill up to the brim of her eyes. Every beat of her heart hurt her. The room feels like an airtight box. Her knees laden. Without her control, the tears finally rolled down her cheeks.

Your brain is multitasking between thinking and focusing on driving. Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the steering wheel as you drive. The more you look at the boxes that are reflected on the back mirror of your car, the more heartache you feel. The day that was supposed to be one of the happiest days in your relationship with Wanda went downhill in a blur. It all happened so fast, too fast actually. Your mind is still processing everything that just happened on your whole way back to your place.

This was the first big fight ever in your relationship and Wanda.

_____

You and Wanda give each other space for two days. That one text she sent you and you didn't reply, Wanda took it as you needed your time alone.

While waiting in silence, Wanda starts to ponder, not just one but many things. Everything that happened that day kept playing in her head over and over again bringing her sense to the surface.

Wanda slowly admits to herself that she was too harsh on you and her anxiety got the best of her. Guilt starts to build up in her heart. Her mind has been filled up with everything about you. Without you, Wanda feels empty and she doesn’t like how it feels when you are not around her. Her heart is longing for your presence and affection. She misses the cheerful side of you that always breaks the silence around the house. All your jokes, laughs and your companion always make her days so meaningful

Wanda’s memory starts to remind her that you indeed have tried your best to fix the bad habits for her as much as she does for you. RIght now, she feels like a fool for forgetting about it.

A week has passed, the more she tries to give you the space and time you need, the harder it gets for her and the more she misses you. Her love for you finally conquered all of her overthinking thoughts. She knows she can’t live without you. Wanda loves you too much to lose you.

_____

With a heavy heart, you just started unpacking the first sealed box that you brought to Wanda's house.

You exhaled harshly right after you heard a knock on your apartment door. You are really not in the mood for having visitors but you get up anyway just in case it’s something important. You see Wanda through the peeping hole.

You stayed quiet behind the door and decided not to answer it. You hear another knock and Wanda softly talks. “Detka, it’s me. Please open the door for me.” You can’t deny that you miss her with every bit in you. As much as you want to let her in, you are still hurt with what happened.

“I know you are in there, y/n. It’s your day off today and I see your car too.” Wanda paused for a little bit and waited for your answer.

Your heart feels heavier from hearing her tone that sounds sadder second by second.

“Y/n, sweetheart, please. I need to tell you that I’m sorry, truly sorry. I miss you. Please let me talk with you.” Wanda’s voice turns shakier while trying to keep herself together from all the sadness and pain she is having from her guilt. You see her through the peeping hole one more time only to find her wiping her tears. It was just a little tear but you know it’s a lot for her.

Wanda heard you finally unlock the door and it’s slowly ajar. She sees you turn your back on her as she walks in. Sparky runs to you and you pet him for a little bit. Wanda waits for you to turn around and see her.

A smile instantly shows up at the same time with her emotional tears as soon as you turn around. “Hi, my love.” she pauses her words once more. The pet name she just called you with

“Hi.. you–uh you lost your spare key?” you ask. You really want to hug Wanda, you don’t like seeing her green eyes get all teary but you hope your small sarcastic question will hide it.

“No, I still have it but I just didn’t want to just walk in here unannounced just in case you– you don’t want to see me.” Wanda slowly lets out her understanding answer. Her eyes search for yours.

You always love how Wanda is so thoughtful and respect your personal space too. It hits you too, some guilt slowly shows up.

Wanda notices the box that you were unpacking. Her lips slightly open in surprise.

“Are you unpacking the boxes?” she asked awkwardly.

“Yeah, I have to.” you start to make yourself look busy to avoid more eye contact with her. You unpack more boxes and walk around just like Wanda did.

Wanda’s reaction is different from yours. She quickly grabs your wrist gently but firm enough to catch your attention.

“Y/n, I have something to say. Can you look at me please?”

Her sad tone finally drags your eyes to her glossy green eyes. "Okay, Wanda. I'm all ears." you stated.

Wanda takes a deep breath slowly as she holds your hands before she starts her ramble. “I’m so sorry for how I was and what I said that day. My–my anxiety and overthinking got the best of me. I should’ve talked about it with you in a better way. I promise I will work on my overthinking and will talk about it together.” She pauses while her thumbs rub the back of your hands.

“Days without you really got me thinking. It’s so quiet without you, your voice, even your texts and I don’t like it. I miss us. I miss doing a lot of things with you, I miss your jokes and laugh. I even miss waiting for you to get ready while I’m worried that we are getting late.” Wanda lets out an awkward little chuckle at the end to distract you from noticing her being vulnerable.

You stand closer to her as she continues. “I’m sorry. Please give me another chance. I really don’t like my girlfriend being away from me too long. I promise I’ll work on my bad habits.” Wanda runs her perfect looking fingers through your hair gently.

Your heart melts under her touches and who can say know to those gorgeous eyes? Not even you.

“Apology accepted. I will always give you chances because you always do the same to me.” you giggle a little. You put both hands on her shoulders right away after she pulls you closer.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wanda”

Both of you instantly tangle in a long soft kiss. You miss her sweet lips touching yours. You and Wanda let out relieved sighs in the kiss. She feels alive again having you so close to her. She doesn’t want to lose you anymore but you can feel that she stops the kiss. Wanda pulls her face away from you. She looks at you dearly.

“Did you notice Sparky’s new collar’s tag?” Wanda asked in a whisper.

“No, what is it?” you asked back but your curiosity doesn’t want to wait so you call him only to find him standing behind you.

You turn around to pick him up as you notice his new collar. "Aaw it's a key shape collar with I Love You engraved on it. That's so sweet. Ouh does it mean you want me to move in with you now?" You ask Wanda while giving Sparky some love and not paying attention to what your girlfriend is doing behind you. She chuckles nervously.

"Well, turn it around and check it out." Wanda gives you a clue and shortly after she hears you let out a surprised gasp.

Will you marry me?

It's engraved in the back of Sparky's collar. You quickly turn around only to find Wanda gets on one knee, holding an opened box with a ring in it.

"Malyshka, it has been a great year since you came to my life. Everything has turned so beautiful since then and when we were away that long, I felt devastated. I don't want us to be like that anymore. I promise we will communicate better to work on our bad habits, problems and solve them together. I just want us to grow better and grow old together. I promise I will be a better wife than I was as your girlfriend. Will you marry me, Y/n Y/l/n?" Her eyes twinkle with hope and love for you.

Bubbles of joy burst in you and spread the thrill all over you. Your eyes and Wanda’s get teary at the same time as she sees you smile from ear to ear. You are speechless.

“Is that a yes? Say something please, y/n? Should I take that as a yes?” Row of questions line up out of her. Her hands are a little shaky. Your heart beats faster. You know you blush so hard because you can feel the rush in you. You nod eagerly. “Yes! Of course Yes!”

Both of you start to laugh in tears of happiness and Wanda puts the ring on your finger. You pull her up to hug and kiss her shortly after. Sparky barks and wags his tails. Excitedly licks your cheeks and Wanda’s in turns in the warmest group hug that always feels like home to you.

“Let’s come home, detka.”

“You are my home.” you replied and Wanda sealed your lips with more short loving kisses. Both of you smile in the kisses.

A/N: Welp, that's all from me today. I hope you like it. Let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Follow me for more.

Cheerio!

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#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff au #marvel modern au #wanda maximoff fanfiction

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afterbluehours · 2 months

Text

Love Bite - Choi Beomgyu

warnings: vampire fem!reader, blood, sex, themes of starvation

note: This came from a super random thought I had one day that Beomgyu would let his vampire girlfriend drink from him and probably get off on it. I'm not a vampire enthusiast so I wasn't down on the lore, but I found out from a friend who loves vampires that their bites feel euphoric so everybody kinda gets off on it? But by then I'd been working on it for most of January and written so much that I decided to go ahead with it anyway. Thank you to my beta readers! (not sure if they want to be tagged)

Beomgyu was slightly scared when he learned the person he's dating is a vampire, as anybody would, while also internally freaking out that he's just learned vampires are real and he's one of very few humans who know. But to your surprise, he doesn't leave. He gets used to the idea pretty fast when he doesn't see any major changes in you or your relationship after you tell him. You’ve always been so gentle, and he knows it’s a character trait and not a disguise when you continue to be caring and nurturing.

Some things start to make sense once he knows, like how he has never seen you sleep, which he never thought was strange before, just seeing you as a late night and early morning person, always awake before him. He can see now how much you've had to hold yourself back; how long it took to get you to agree to go out with him; all the times you'd shied away from your first kiss, how long it took for you to finally let it happen, and the way you’d trembled as he held you close afterward; the frequent long weeks that he'd go without seeing you when you claimed to be sick, and how you'd never let him come to take care of you or even bring you anything during those times; why you never meet his friends. He'd thought you were just a shy, private person who needed a bit more time than others to warm up to things. You were so grateful that he was so patient and understanding with you, sure that anybody else would have gotten fed up with the way you acted and given up long before the year mark. But not Beomgyu.

He began to see how often you let yourself go hungry, determined that nobody else should suffer for your existence. Without hesitation, he offers, no, begs you to feed from him when he can tell you've been neglecting your needs, famishing yourself for the sake of the safety of others. You always refuse his proposals, never even toying with the thought of blurring that line between love and lunch. Until he finds you more weak and dazed than he's ever seen you, flinching away from the scent of him as he enters the room you've secluded yourself to. He begs you to drink from him, replenish yourself, his hands caressing your face, eyes pleading just as much as his voice.

"I know you don't want to hurt me,” he whispers. His fingers are so unfairly warm on your cheeks, luring your eyes up to look at him. “But it hurts me to see you like this.”

In the haze of your desperation, you can't keep your eyes from honing in on his jugular, on the veins that pulse just beneath the skin. He looks and sounds so sweet, and the vulnerable state you're in makes it hard to think straight. His words and his scent cause you to feel dizzy, the mix of these factors and your heightened impulses make you begin to question why you never considered tasting him before. Two states of mind battle inside you–the craze of hunger and your personal beliefs and wishes.

Beomgyu pulls you into his lap on a chair by the window, bearing most of your limp weight. He slings your arms over his shoulders before cradling your head in his hand against his neck, positioning your face at his throat. You can hear the quick thudding of his heart, the throb of his pulse—nervous or excited, you can't tell. Closing your eyes, you let yourself inhale the warmth of him for a long stretching moment. Then, with your little remaining strength, you sit up enough to look him in the eye.

He doesn't look scared or burdened; he looks trusting and devoted. You let your chest fall flush against his to feel the beating of his heart where your own might once have been, reveling in the idea of two being one for just a moment. Kissing him softly, you feel his breath on your face, the steady rhythm of him. He's so beautifully alive, so whole and so fragile. Your rational mind seems to have remained despite the lost fight and the mania you feel as your eyes ask of his surety.

His head nods, and you gently capture his jaw in your hands and let yourself return to his neck. He doesn't scream or cry out in pain when your fangs pierce his skin. The only sound he emits is a sharp intake of breath through his teeth and a groan that he tries to hide under said breath. His body doesn't tense with fear or unbearable agony. You have the clarity to notice these things before the erraticism floods you, faster than the taste of him floods your mouth.

The heat of his blood warms your body as you suck it down, like gasoline on a fire. You had never let yourself imagine how he would taste, never dared to think that you would ever find out. The fire dances hungrily in your belly, crying for more, more, more, and you open your eyes to ground yourself against your instinct. You lick soothingly over the puncture you've left behind as you detach from his flesh, both to give him a break and check over him. His face appears blissful; dream-like eyes opening into yours, and lips parted with fleeting breath. You feel his hands softly grab at your waist.

"More," he breathes out dazedly. Your lips make to rebuff him, but he's quicker to speak. "You need more. Please."

Were you in a more stable state, you'd want to have a conversation about this. But with Beomgyu's words, your natural desire overcomes the memory of your rational thoughts. Somewhere in the back of your clouded mind, you're grateful to have someone who cares about you enough to share their life-force to keep you comfortable. Your tongue laves across the bite to lap up the blood collecting there before you dive back in to begin gently sucking again. Fighting against every urge that sings inside you, you hold yourself back from severing any veins or arteries, willing to cause as little damage as a minimal flesh wound that can be easily staunched to prevent even more blood loss.

The moan that comes from the man below you is jarring; it doesn't derive from pain. Is this normal? His thumbs anchor into the flesh above your hip bones, and he angles his head up further to give you a more advantageous angle, encouraging you. His body jolts a little, causing your fangs to sink deeper, against your intentions, delivering more of his blood to you. You swallow it down before pulling away again with a gasp, dizzy with the effort it takes to stop yourself from guzzling him down.

"Beomgyu… I-"

"Ride me," he whines breathlessly, his eyes as blown out as your own probably are right now.

The sound of the words that tumble from his lips is almost enough to startle you out of your thirst. At first you're not sure you heard him right, you've been out of it for days... But then your boyfriend is closing the gap between you, nose pressing under your jaw as his arms pull your hips against him, grinding you over his crotch, brushing hard and long underneath you, the friction waking another fire inside you.

"Ride me, baby, please." He sounds as if he's never needed anything so badly before, and he's definitely never begged for you this way. A new warmth begins pooling in your belly alongside the blood.

Beomgyu only fumbles a few times while unbuttoning his pants blindly as he offers his lips endearingly desperately to you. Fingers hike up the material of your dress until it's bunched around your waist, grab at your panties and angle them to the side. You hadn't realised how wet you were until he pushed inside with no resistance.

The kiss is broken as the two of you react to the slide of his cock with a gasp and a groan, your forehead dropping to meet his as he pants shakily. Arms reaching under your thighs, he pulls you along his length, then lets you sink back down, until you take over and begin to ride him. Your lips brush over the bite you've left as you move against him and he moans again, hips thrusting up to meet yours.

A gentle hand cups the back of your neck to return your mouth to the site when you don't do so yourself, and you're so tempted to drink again, but you will yourself to believe you've had enough to keep you going until you find another source. Beomgyu is whining at your lack of action, so you settle on kissing the punctures instead, savouring the taste of him as the blood pooled at the site sticks to your lips. You feel him throb inside you at the sensation of your mouth at the area, and he shivers as if all the nerves in his body are connected to that spot.

“Take more,” he says between shaky breaths. “Feels so good.”

“No, Gyu-”

His lips are on yours the moment you pull back from him, so quick to act and so lost in passion he doesn't seem to notice the crimson hue that slathers your lips or the iron tang that they share. His hands are soft on your face now, thumbs stroking your cheek bones; always so gentle with you, as if he were not the one that was fragile, but you. When he breaks away for air, his mouth is smudged with a faint red stain.

His eyes drink you and he looks as in love as ever, just as adoring of you as before he learned what you are. Even now, with his neck punctured and his blood settling in your stomach, he still doesn’t see a monster.

“Gyu,” your moan drags out as your hips bring him deeper inside you over and over. A "You're too good for me” slips from your mind to your lips, followed by, "I don't deserve you."

You could swear you see pain on his face for a fraction of a second at your words. Then his hand is in your hair and he's meeting your lips once again to convey everything he's too breathless to say in this moment. When the kiss is broken, you dip down, your lips travelling over the column of his throat, leaving a trail of kisses and earning more moans from Beomgyu as his head falls back in bliss.

“Don't– ah, don't ever say that,” he struggles to get the words out. “You're… oh god. I love you so much.”

Feeling his stomach tighten beneath you, his hips push up to meet yours, plunging himself so deep and snug inside you. Sparks shoot through your whole body from the feeling and you impulsively wrap your legs around him to keep him there as you quiver with pleasure, walls clenching desperately. There's a broken wail beneath you and you're faintly aware of the sensation of Beomgyu finishing inside you, and his name being called again and again by your voice.

When your vision clears, certain that you would be a mess of tears if you had the ability to cry, you find your boyfriend heavy-lidded and wearing a slight, delirious smile. You're so in love with this human, bewildered by the fact that you don't know what you would do if he were to go away. Or worse; inevitably succumb to mortality, a voice in your head reminds you, causing you to mentally flinch away from your thoughts and focus on your view.

Taking his head in your hands, you try to rouse him from his euphoria. “Are you okay?” Checking him over, you find no sign of excessive dizziness, though his rapid breathing and any lightheadedness in this moment could be from the other activities rather than the blood loss. Taking a better look at the bite you’ve left, reality comes crashing down on you, a hint of panic settling in beside it. “How are we going to hide this? This will take weeks to heal–”

A thumb swiping along your bottom lip brings your attention back to Beomgyu’s gaze. His eyes look a little more focused now as he steps into a reassuring role. “It’s okay,” he coos softly, as though you’re a bird he could spook, that you might fly away, not a creature that had him at its mercy moments ago. “I’ll bandage it and say I got a tattoo.”

“You would never get a tattoo,” you huff slightly, feeling he’s not taking this as seriously as he should. “And when you take the bandage off and there’s nothing there?”

He chuckles, hands running up and down your arms in a comforting way that has become familiar to you. “Then I’ll say I got a piercing, didn’t like it and took it out.” The soft brown of his eyes are so mesmerising, so persuasive that you’re almost soothed out of your unease about the whole thing, and he throws in a kiss to seal the deal. Leaning back, he’s smiling once more. “We’re definitely doing that again.”

Incredulous, you shake your head. You try to shift on his lap and are reminded that the two of you are still connected. “No, Beomgyu–”

“Hey. Look ook at me, love, I’m fine!”

“This isn’t what I got involved with you for,” you say solemnly. It's quite the contrast to your boyfriend's nonchalant and playful attitude, and as soon as he hears the words, he's adapting to you. If possible, his eyes grow even softer.

“I know,” he says softly. He helps you untether yourselves, promising to continue the conversation after you're both cleaned up. In the bathroom, you notice the way he eyes the bite, inspecting it carefully. He doesn't seem phased by the mark at all, his reaction similar to if he'd just nicked himself while shaving. Opening the first aid kit, he's ready to see to it himself, but happily allows you to treat and bandage it when you offer. Once clean and in bed, he resumes the previous conversation as promised, knowing it's important to you.

You're laying on top of him, chest to chest and able to look at him properly–one of Beomgyu's favourite things about you being lighter than humans is that he can cuddle you this way without being crushed. He strokes your hair as you begin again, trying not to be distracted by the gesture. “I don't want to risk ever losing control and putting you in danger. What if I can't stop next time?”

“I understand,” Beomgyu's voice rumbles through your body as he speaks. “But do you realise how much restraint you showed today? While you were starved? If you could handle that without draining me for every drop I'm worth, I think you can handle a sip here and there before you reach the danger zone.”

For every drop I'm worth? Your expression pulls into a cringe. “Don't say it like that.”

A grin flashes over his face before he's serious again. “I trust you. And it’s not just that it feels good, I hate to see you suffering, you know.”

You sigh deeply, too tired and bombarded by logical arguments to find a rebuttal. Now it's you who reaches up to play with his hair, something you know he loves that relaxes him. “You should sleep.”

His eyes close obediently, making you smile. Arms wrap around you, holding you impossibly closer. “You trying to shut me up?” he jokes. “You're lucky to have me.”

As your fingers stroke through his hair, his mischievous smile slowly fades as his face softens at your touch. It's not long until he'll slip into sleep. “I know,” you whisper.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut

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python333 · 8 months

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task force 141 reacting to [reader] giving them a 'happy father's day' card — python333

— — — —

synopsis you give the tf141 boys some happy father's day cards!!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & younger!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], reader is intended to be around 16/17-20/21 but can be interpreted as older as long as they're below 24 (just so that the headcanons make more sense), maybe ooc?

note i'm so sorry but there's no gaz in this one BUT i can explain why!! i was doing my research (going through three different tumblr posts) to figure out the actual age of each character and gaz is apparently 24?? in new updates or whatever?? anyway, even before i found that out, i could only ever imagine writing him as an older brother, simply because he doesn't feel fatherly to me but still has those protecive-familial vibes so if yall want me to write something on him being ur older brother then feel free to request/reply/comment or whatever and i will! :3 this is all comfort no hurt and pure fluff so enjoy!!

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ OH GOD.

➥ man i don’t even have daddy issues and i’m crying.

➥ gives you that one dad smile he has—y’all know the one. don’t pretend you don’t—and thanks you for it.

➥ gives you a lil hug too because why not?

➥ tears up just the tiniest bit but it’s pretty unnoticeable but i need you to know that it’s there.

➥ either keeps it propped up on his desk, in one of the drawers of his desk, or puts it in a small frame and puts that on or in his desk.

➥ definitely reads it at least once a week.

➥ he’s so genuinely flattered by it i think that after you leave his office he’d tear up a bit.

➥ you thought he was acting as a father figure to you before?

➥ be prepared for him to take it to a whole nother level.

➥ starts getting you cheesy birthday cards after you start giving him father’s day cards.

➥ is he a father biologically? no. is he one mentally, emotionally, and spiritually? absolutely.

—

You were reasonably pretty nervous.

It wasn’t ever really a secret that you and Price had some sort of father-child-like relationship, what with the amount of hair ruffles, head pats, shoulder pats, etc. that you’d received from him and the swatting at his hand with your own that you had given back. But none of that took away the nervousness you had when you gave Price a father’s day card for the first time.

It’s not that you thought that he would be weirded out by it, you just had a small habit of overthinking things, and this happened to be one of those things. The card didn’t say too much inside of it, a simple ‘happy father’s day!’ and a sentence you wrote that mentioned that you were grateful to know him. That’s it. That’s all it was. And yet, your hand shook as you held it, the other hand knocking on the door of Price’s office.

He nodded in greeting and opened it, and stepped out of the way to let you walk in and sit in front of his desk. He sat at his usual seat after shutting the door, and you set the card in your lap, not wanting him to see it just yet.

“Is there any particular reason why you wanted to come into my office?” Price asked, breaking the silence. You took a deep breath and nodded before you quickly handed over the card, slipping it onto his side of the desk. He took a good look at it for a moment, reading the ‘happy father’s day!’ on the front and looking over the cheesy illustration on the cover. You anxiously waited for him to say something as he simply stared at it, before he picked it up and opened it, reading the short few words that were written on the inside.

You watched as his expression melted into a softer one, and he stared at the card for another moment before wordlessly getting up. Before you could say anything, or question anything, he knelt down to the level of the chair you were sitting in and hugged you. You were frozen with surprise before you hugged him back, loosely wrapping your arms over his shoulders, a little confused by the hug but appreciating the embrace nonetheless. He rubbed your back for a quick moment before standing back up straight and patting your shoulder.

”Thank you,” He said, smiling down at you. “I really appreciated that, kiddo.”

Oh, wow. I don’t know why, but I think I might start crying. “Yeah—yeah, of course,” You’d replied, quickly getting up and giving Price a quick hug before swiftly walking to the door, “I’ll just, uh, I’ll be in my room. Or, actually, no, I’m gonna go—I’m gonna go bother Soap in his office, so if you need me I’ll be in there okaybyeCaptainI’llseeyoulater!” You rushed out, not looking back as you closed the door behind you.

Price had blinked at the door for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and sitting back down in his chair, looking at the card you’d given him one last time before sighing and letting himself tear up a bit. Eventually, after just sitting there and staring at the card, he unlocked one of the few locked drawers at the bottom of his desk and put the card there, for safekeeping.

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he’s so excited when he reads that card.

➥ he’s so flattered?? and is so happy?? and oh my god he might pass out?? from all the positive emotions he feels??

➥ be careful with what you say because you might break him beyond repair.

➥ it’s like you’ve given a puppy it’s first treat, honestly.

➥ won’t cry but is very close to!!

➥ will definitely show off the card to everyone.

➥ when i say everyone i mean EVERYONE.

➥ he will talk everyone’s ear off about it, no matter who they are or what they’re doing, hell, the man could be pissing with his dick out at the urinals and everything and he’ll still be ranting to the poor soul in the bathroom about what a sweetheart you are and how you gave him a father’s day card.

➥ he starts calling you ‘lamb’ and ‘duckie’ after the whole ordeal.

➥ no i didn’t ask chatgpt for terms of endearment scottish parents use for their children haha!!

➥ he buys a corkboard just to pin the card to in his office.

➥ like it’s literally just in the middle, nothing else on the corkboard, just that singular father’s day card.

➥ the whole thing is just reserved for father’s day cards tbh. he hopes to fill it up with as many cards as you’ll give him, and if you only give him the one, then damn it, the corkboard’s only gonna have one thing on it and whoever questions it can mind their damn business.

—

You didn’t really know what to expect with Soap when you gave him the card.

You felt pretty confident giving it to him, knowing the guy could probably receive a rock with googly eyes on it from you and still cry tears of joy knowing you gave it to him of all people, so giving this card to him was no big deal, right?

You found him in the recreational center, lounging on the couch, reading a book—shocking, I know—and quietly reading the words out loud to himself. The moment you had entered the center, though, he looked up from his book and nodded in greeting at you with a smile on his face and watched as you walked over to him.

Before he could say anything, you quickly put the card in his lap and watched as he looked up at you, a surprised and amused expression on his face.

“What’s this?” He asked, not looking down at the card just yet.

“Read it,” You’d insisted, gesturing towards the card in his lap. He blinked at you for a moment before muttering, “Alright, then,” under his breath and looking down at the card. He picked it up and read the three short words on the front and looked over the illustration on the cover, and the moment the words registered in his brain, his face broke out into a grin and he looked up at you.

“Aww, this is sae sweet,” Soap gushed, “Thank ye!”

He got up before you could talk and hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground a bit, cooing, “Ye're jist the sweetest, ma God, when did ye get the card?”

“I got it a while ago,” You had admitted, “Decided to give it to you now.”

Soap set you down and put both of his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing circles into them with his thumb, looking down at you with an elated grin, "I'm gonnae hang this up in ma office—I'll get a corkboard an' everything, jist for this."

You looked up at him with a confused, but amused look on your face, asking, “And you’re just gonna hang that card on there?”

He nodded in confirmation and responded, “Aye, it'll be deid center, naething else on there."

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ oh my goodness.

➥ the moment you hand him the card, it’s like he already knows what it is without reading it.

➥ probably thinks it’s a joke at first.

➥ when he realizes that you’re serious he straight up tears up.

➥ like in front of you and everything he’ll tear up.

➥ “... Are you crying?” ghost, tearing up and literally about to start sobbing, "No.”

➥ he treasures that thing and would literally cease to exist if he ever lost it or if it got destroyed.

➥ won’t flaunt it at all, instead he keeps it in the pocket of a jacket he never wears anymore.

➥ if you ever give him more cards, he’ll consider getting a box to keep them in.

➥ he’s always called you ‘kid’ but after this he starts calling you ‘kiddo’.

➥ THERE’S A DIFFERENCE. I CANNOT TELL YOU WHAT IT IS BUT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE.

➥ listen kiddo is more affectionate and its softer and its not as playful as kid its more personal and and and [explodes]

➥ the others notice the small change in behavior he has towards you (being more lighthearted with his teasing, generally being less cold with you, etc.) and will tease him endlessly about it.

➥ by others i mean soap and gaz. those two team up and tease him to death.

➥ he could care less though!! he tells himself that they’re idiots anyway and that his behavior hasn’t changed that much.

➥ he’s in denial and i think that him and me are the same fr.

—

You had practically searched every corner, crevice, nook, and cranny of the base searching for Ghost. When you finally found him, he was in the armory and weapons room cleaning the barrel of his rifle, hyperfocused on wiping away the gunk on the gun. You stopped by the door, hesitating in giving him the card. It really shouldn’t be that hard, You thought, What’s the worst that could happen?

You were aware that there were many things that could happen, most of which were bad, but you ignored them for the sake of building up your confidence to give him the card. You stood there for a while, just sort of staring at him, before he—not even looking up from his gun—called out to you with a simple yet firm, “Do you need something?”

You probably could’ve died right there, his firm voice almost completely shattering your confidence for reasons you couldn’t specify, but you instead cleared your throat and walked out of the doorway and completely into the room. You walked over to him and before he could ask any further questions you held the card out to him, your hand having a small tremble to it, an uncomfortably visible display of your nervousness.

He stared at the card for a moment before setting down the cloth he was using to clean his gun and grabbing it, reading the front for a moment before huffing out a small laugh and looking up at you to tease you for it. He was going to tell you what a ‘funny’ joke it was, to tell you to just go do whatever work you’re probably skipping out on when he sees the look on your face that tells him that you’re pretty serious about the card.

He looked back down at the card and read it again, the words ‘happy father’s day’ echoing through his mind as he opened it. He read the few short words on the inside of the card and the shitty drawing of a ghost right next to one that was scribbled out—because of course you had to use pen and weren’t satisfied with the first ghost you drew even though Ghost could make out through the scribbles that they practically looked the same.

You were pretty nervous the longer the silence stretched out, and you were about to take back the card and go jump off a cliff to avoid ever looking at Ghost again when suddenly you hear a sniffle.

“Are you… are you crying?” You’d asked, more confused than nervous now, watching as Ghost shook his head negatively and continued to stare at the inside of the card.

“No,” He answered, sniffling again.

“... You sure?” You’d asked again, far less nervous now, your tone becoming more teasing.

“Positive.” Ghost said firmly, though his voice had wavered a bit. He looked up at you and reached his hand up to give you a pat on the shoulder, muttering, “Thank you for that, kiddo.”

"Yeah, no problem," You had said back, smiling down at Ghost before taking a step back, "I'll leave you to keep cleaning your gun, or whatever."

Ghost had simply nodded and looked back at the table where your card and his gun laid, and you didn't stay long enough to watch him tear up all over again at the sight of the letter.

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

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second time i'm putting ghost and tommy in a band just because

but them being pretty big in the underground punk scene but never straying from that local-band vibe even after they've attracted a decent following. their plan had never been to go big, just to make music, so that's what they do.

johnny's a frequenter of underground shows, and he just so happened to catch word of one when he's in manchester for whatever reason. so of course he goes, uncaring if he knows any names, because music is music, and he's just there for a good time.

when simon and tommy's band comes onto the stage, johnny is absolutely enamoured with the band. somehow it's just about everything he likes all meshed into one act, and while the frontman is energetic, and has seemingly perfected that line between professional and amateur in his sound, and the drummer and guitarist all the same—johnny's eyes are on the bassist the entire time.

his smeared eyeliner and half-obscured face, his messy hair and bloodied knuckles like he'd just come fresh from a fight before playing. his casual stance and dark eyes and—it's no wonder johnny subconsciously worms his way to the very front just to gaze up at the man from up close.

shame johnny hadn't caught the band's name when it had been announced. he feels a sudden need to follow them along all of their shows.

which, speaking of—once the set is over, johnny does the stupid thing of trying to find where the band heads off to. he'd done it once or twice before, and usually shows like this lend the acts to spend time with the crowd as a part of it at some point, so it's not... so difficult.

he doesn't end up finding the band—at least, not all of it.

because in the alley of the venue, johnny finds the bassist smoking, face now fully exposed as he brings a cigarette to his lips.

with nothing to lose but his dignity, johnny sidles up to the man as casually as he can manage, as if he hadn't just become a big fan.

"great gig," johnny says. "how long have you been playing?"

the bassist barely spares him a glance. "few years now. s'there somethin' i can help you with or what?"

his voice is a pleasant rumble in johnny's chest, as low and steady as the bass itself. his tone is indifferent, though, and johnny thinks to change that.

"only lookin' for a name." johnny shrugs, leaning perhaps a bit too close.

the bassist finally looks to him, a mild confusion written into his face. up close, his eyes are impossibly darker, voids johnny thinks he could gladly sink into.

"simon," he eventually supplies. "that it?"

johnny grins. "maybe. you have other shows coming up? haven't heard you guys before, and i have a bit of a thing for live music."

simon stares at him a moment. if johnny watched close enough—which he certainly does—he'd notice the subtle upwards quirk of simon's lips.

"we have gigs planned, yeah. you have a pen? i'll write the date for you."

johnny frowns, just a bit, before searching his person for something to write with.

the best he manages is an eyeliner pencil, but apparently it's good enough for simon to take johnny's arm to write on his skin. the drag of the pencil across his skin is harsh, though it's hardly simon's fault.

johnny watches simon's face the entire time, the lit cigarette dangling from his lips. he never once questions why he couldn't have just been told the date.

"try not to rub it," simon advises once he's finished, straightening his back and offering the pencil back to johnny. "see you around..."

"john," he says. he tucks the pencil away, never bothering to glance at his arm.

"johnny," simon decides instead, taking one last drag of his smoke before snubbing it out on the brick wall and flicking it to the ground. he brushes past johnny and disappears back inside through a door johnny hadn't previously noticed.

it isn't until much too late that johnny looks down and sees that a date had not, in fact, been written on his arm—but rather, a phone number.

cheeky bastard.

the worst part is that johnny still doesn't know the band's name.

#listening to fugazi while writing this #so picture that as the Vibe #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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scarrletmoon · 2 months

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About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

#scarrlet rambles #powder blue #about powder blue #this is also just a really long about me

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justmystyles · 9 months

Note

hi! your angst is so so good! could you please write something angsty around the Selena Gomez song “Lose You to Love Me” kind of about a girl learning to love herself after a toxic love with Harry and then them reuniting after growing up years later, please?

Lose You to Love Me

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 4.2k

summary: a run-in with your childhood sweetheart brings up old memories, and lingering feelings.

a/n: my friend, you have no idea what you've done sending this ask in. technically you do, because I posted about it after i received it. but this song popped into my head a little over a week ago, and has been running up there on repeat. it's been making me think about my life and relationships, and being all reflective or whatever. i hate it. 😂

I have been thinking about this story pretty much non-stop since you sent the ask, and was so exited to finally get it written. i hope it's what you were looking for, and that you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

also, a note about the story, the italicized parts are flashbacks.

i know we’re on all on edge after last night, so why not throw some angst in there to make it worse!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

As you moved through the streets of London, you were so focused on making it to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to the faces passing you by.

But he was, and he recognized yours immediately.

“Y/N?”

You froze in place, causing the person walking behind you to crash into you. You apologized and stepped off to the side, looking in the direction of the voice. “Harry,” you breathed out.

Before you could fully process what was happening, Harry had rushed up to you, pulling you into his arms. You closed your eyes, even after all this time he still gave the best hugs. Your mind flashed with memories of all the times you found yourself in his arms. Good and bad.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” He spoke against your neck before pulling back, taking your hands in his as he looked you up and down. “You look amazing. All grown up.”

“Yeah, you too.” You took him in, he had definitely filled out since the last time you saw him. Of course you knew that, no matter how hard you tried to get away from him, you never could get that clean break you so desired. That’s what happens when your ex is one of the biggest stars in the world.

“Gosh, it’s been ages.” He muses.

You purse your lips and nod. “Eleven years.” You feel a knot in your stomach, thinking back to the last time you two spoke.

“Harry, it’s just not fair to me.” You move the speaker away from your mouth, hoping he doesn’t hear your breath hitch.

“And you think you’re being fair to me? This is my dream, Y/N, and I can’t even enjoy it because I’ve got you making me feel bad, or like I’m doing something wrong every time I talk to you!”

“Yeah, well you were my dream.” Your voice is quiet, defeated. “But I guess it’s time for me to wake up.”

Harry is silent on the other end of the phone for a moment. “What,” he lets out a deep breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wipe your eyes, sniffling softly. “It means I can’t do this anymore. You’re living your life, you’re finding your way in the world. I need to go off and do the same. Alone.”

Harry gives you a sad smile. “I tried to reach out a few times, I didn’t like how we left things.”

“I know, me either.” You agreed. “But I needed to just sever the tie. It would have been too hard otherwise.”

“I’m sorry,” you look at him curiously. “For how I handled things, for how it ended…”

You held your hand up to stop him. “We were just kids, you were eighteen and an international pop star, you handled things as best you could.”

He smiled gratefully at you. “Do you, uh… do you have some time? Maybe we could grab a coffee and catch up?”

Your mind is begging you to say no, but your mouth doesn’t listen, agreeing immediately. “But I’ll pass on the coffee.’

“Still?” He smirks, remembering how much you hated coffee. “Some things never change.”

****

The two of you order drinks, and get settled at a quiet corner table in a small coffee shop, the conversation starts off simple enough, you catch each other up on your families, you tell him about your career, and how you had relocated to London three years ago for a big promotion. He shares a couple of stories of some of his more memorable moments over the years.

Even after a decade apart, you still managed to fall into conversation with ease. From the moment you had met when you were kids, there was this instant comfort between the two of you. It was no surprise to anyone when you started dating at fifteen. You were inseparable, going everywhere together. You were there at his XFactor audition, you supported him every step of the way. It was when things really started taking off for him that everything changed.

“Hi angel,” Harry’s voice was low and raspy, that’s when you realized you forgot to take the time change into consideration before you called.

“Oh my gosh H, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up, I–”

You’re cut off by his laughter. “It’s alright, I like when you wake me up. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Mum is taking me dress shopping for formal today, I just wanted to see if you had any ideas what you’d be wearing. We could coordinate!” There was a long silence as you waited for him to respond. “Harry?” You asked. Maybe he had fallen back to sleep.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You could hear him shifting on the other end of the phone. “I have some bad news actually.” He sighed before continuing. “They booked us a bunch of shows in the US, I’m not going to be able to come home for the dance.”

“Oh,” you did your best to mask the disappointment. It was just a dance, Harry was doing amazing things, and you needed to be supportive of that.

“Angel, I’m so sorry, I really tried…”

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, really.” You assured him while also trying to assure yourself.

You heard a knocking on the other side of the phone, and muffled voices. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go Y/N. I’m so sorry, I love you. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know H. I love you too.”

“Okay, we’ll talk soon. I promise.” The call disconnects before you can respond.

That was the beginning of the end for your young love. You had put on a happy face for everyone, especially Harry, but your family and friends were able to see right through it. He probably would have too had he actually been there.

You ended up going to your formal with your friends, but as they danced and laughed, you sat on the sidelines, staring at your phone waiting for a call or a text from Harry. And that’s what your life became from there on.

When Harry would come home, things would be better, but still not what it was. Because he’d be gone for such long stretches, his time was spread so thin when he was home. He would want to spend time with everyone, which didn’t leave enough time for the two of you. You would tag along as much as you could, but your one on one time was lacking. It got to a point where you couldn’t even go out on dates, constantly being bombarded by people asking for pictures or autographs.

That’s when you decided to spend your time behind closed doors. Harry said it was so he could focus on you, but part of you wondered if it was so that he could keep you secret. You knew that there were girls all over the world that wanted to be with him, his team knew that was part of the marketability of him, of the whole group. The second the two of you stopped hanging out publicly, the insecurities started creeping in. From then on, every time you saw a picture of him with another girl, you wondered who she was, why it was okay for him to be seen with her and not you.

As the two of you continued to talk, you glanced down at your watch. “Oh shit,” you interrupt him. “I’m so sorry Harry, I actually have to go. I have a meeting I need to get to.” You stand from your seat and collect your things. Harry stands with you.

“Yeah, of course.” You could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in his tone. “Hey, you should come to the show tonight. If you’re free I mean.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s Wembley. How many times did we talk about this?”

“A lot,” you smile wistfully, remembering those conversations. Whenever he was feeling discouraged about his journey, you would always be right there to pick him up, assuring him it was going to work out. That he’d be onstage at the famed stadium, and you’d be right there cheering him on.

“It would mean a lot to me to have you there. Full circle and all that.” He said with a smile. “Besides, the whole family is going to be there. I’m sure mum and Gem would love to see you.”

It would be nice to see his family again. You had been all but officially adopted into the clan, spending holidays, dinners, birthdays with them. You were at Harry’s house just as much as you were at your own, possibly more. Sure, you had mourned the loss of your relationship with Harry, but it also broke you that you lost that second family.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.” You agree.

“Amazing.” He pulled you in for a tight hug. “I’ll see you tonight. Just check in at the box office when you get there, I’ll take care of everything.”

****

You made it to your meeting on time, but you were anything but present. Your mind kept going back to Harry, how great he looked, how happy he was to see you. And then the memories started flooding back.

“Y/N?” Your mother’s voice and gentle knock on the door call your attention away from your phone.

“Yeah?”

She sticks her head into your room. “We’re leaving in five minutes, are you ready?”

“Ready?” You suddenly remember that your parents were supposed to be taking you and your sister out to dinner. “Oh, I uh… no. I think I’m going to pass if that’s okay?”

“But honey, we’re going to your favorite restaurant.” You could see the concern spread across her face.

“I know, but Harry is supposed to call and check in. We haven’t had a proper phone date in weeks. I want to make sure I don’t miss him.”

“Y/N…” your mother says in a warning tone. After Harry missed out on formal, you had completely changed. You’d go to school, and then immediately come home waiting to hear from him. You would drop everything the second his name popped up on your phone screen.

“Mum, next time. I promise.”

Your mother lets out a sigh and nods, leaving you alone.

About an hour later, your phone pinged with a text from Harry.

Sorry love, can’t call tonight. Talk to you soon, promise. XO

****

After your meeting, you slipped out of the office. You knew you weren’t going to get anything done today. Besides, you needed to find something to wear tonight. You called Heather, your oldest and closest friends, asking her to meet you at one of your favorite shops.

You told her about your run-in with Harry, and his invitation to go to his show.

“You said no, right?”

“Yeah, I said no. That’s why we’re here, you’re helping me pick an outfit for a concert I’m not going to.” you rolled your eyes.

“Y/N, I say this as your friend, this is a terrible idea and you definitely shouldn’t go.” She says completely seriously. “Do you even remember what life was like for you back then?”

“Come on!” Heather grabbed your arm, trying to pull you out of the booth. “Come dance with us!”

You pull out of her grip, checking your phone for a notification. “I can’t H-”

“Harry’s going to call,” she finishes your sentence. “Y/N, you’re both my friends, but you’re my best friend, so I’m going to be real with you. Harry’s a wakner.”

“Hey,” you reply defensively. “He is not, he’s just really busy. He’s kind of a big deal, you know?”

“I do know. And I also know that while you’re sitting here staring at your phone, you’re missing out on life. But he’s out there living it. You deserve better than that.”

“Right, and in a couple of months I’ll be living that life with him.”

Heather’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to university.” You state plainly, her eyes go wide in shock. “Harry is going to get me a job on his team. It won’t be glamorous, and it probably won’t pay much, but we’ll be together and everything will be good again.”

“Have you told your parents about this plan?”

“I have, they aren’t happy about it, but I’m eighteen, so there isn’t really anything they can do about it.”

“And you really think this is the best idea?” She asks you.

“Yes,” you say, a little louder than intended but you needed to get your point across. “Harry and I are supposed to be together, and if this is how it needs to happen, this is how it’s going to happen.” You grab your purse and stand from your seat. “I’m going home, it’s too loud here for me to hear him anyway.”

After that, you stopped going out when your friends invited you. They didn’t understand your relationship, and they were always on your case about it. It was easier to just stay home and wait for Harry. Eventually, the invitations stopped coming. You were fine with that. It made it easier for you to focus on Harry, and be there when he had time for you.

As far as the job, that never happened. About a week after you graduated, you received a call from Harry. He told you that he fought for you, all the guys did, but his team said they weren’t able to make a spot for you.

You were devastated, but you did your best to hide it from him. That didn’t last very long, however, as that was the point where the cracks in your facade of ‘supportive girlfriend’ started coming through. You started seeing what everyone had been telling you, that Harry was out there conquering the world while you were putting your life on hold, spending your life by the phone waiting for a quick text or five minute phone call.

****

When you arrived at Wembley, you gave your name at the window and were immediately ushered to a backstage VIP area. You walked in and smiled to yourself at the turnout. You recognized almost everyone in the room. You stayed by the door, not wanting to interrupt when Gemma’s eyes traveled in your direction, She did a double take before smiling wide and running to you.

“Y/N, I can’t believe it!” She pulled you into a tight hug, which you quickly returned. “Harry told us he ran into you, and invited you to the show. But I wasn’t sure you’d actually come!”

You giggled at her excitement. “Of course I’m here, I told him I’d come.”

“I know, but you’re so nice, I figured you’d say that to his face and then just disappear.” You both laughed, before she took you by the hand, leading you into the group. “Come on, we have so much to catch up on!”

You went around the room, greeting those you had known a decade ago, and meeting the new members of Harry’s entourage. Everyone was so happy to see you, you were being pulled in a million different directions trying to catch up with everyone. They had told you that Harry was with them earlier, but had to leave to get ready. You were grateful for that. It would have been too much to be there with him, and his family.

**** When it was time to go out to the front of house, Gemma locked her arm in yours and you walked together. She stayed by your side the whole night. The two of you were always close, she had always treated you like you were sisters. Often joking that someday Harry would make it official. She made you promise not to leave without giving her your number, she said she wasn’t about to let another ten years go by without seeing you again.

The show was incredible. Harry was incredible. As you watched him up there, you felt your chest swell with pride. Despite what had transpired between the two of you, you couldn’t help but get emotional watching him live the dream that the two of you had spent so much time talking about. He had done it, but on a level that neither of you could have even imagined.

As you listened on, your mind wandered, thinking about the girls those songs were about. The girls that had come after you. You felt tears begin to pool in your eyes as you remembered the first one.

“Come on guys, put it away. Y/N is going to be here any minute.” You heard Heather plead. “This is her first time out since the breakup, she doesn’t need to see it.”

After the phone call where you ended your relationship, you were inconsolable. You cried nonstop, mourning your relationship, the future you were supposed to have, and all the time you wasted waiting for him. Your friends would come over often, but they would mostly just hold you and offer words of encouragement to you as you cried. Nobody was able to get through to you, they weren’t even sure how.

About two months after the breakup, you got this surge of determination. Harry had taken away enough of your life, you weren’t going to let him do it anymore. You texted Heather, and she agreed to gather all your friends for dinner.

You walked in and saw her trying to pull the phone out of her boyfriend’s hands. “What don’t I need to see?” You ask, everyone’s attention snapping to you.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Heather assured you.

You nodded, leaning in to hug your friend, quickly diverting and grabbing the phone out of her hand. You looked down at the screen and saw a paparazzi shot of Harry walking hand in hand with Taylor Swift, it was an article about the budding relationship between the two singers.

“Oh,” you said, dropping the phone on the table. “I uh… I just remembered I’ve got to…” your brain was too cloudy to come up with an excuse, not that they would believe it anyway. You turned and rushed out of the restaurant. Heather hot on your heels.

“Y/N, wait!” She followed you as you ducked into a nearby alleyway, getting to you just in time to watch your back slide down the wall.

You wrapped your arms around your knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. Heather sat down next to you, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her.

“I… he… I…” You couldn’t form words, too upset to do anything but cry.

“I know babe, I know.” Heather said in a soft tone, rubbing your back comfortably. “I told you he was a wanker.”

You chuckled lightly, your breathing starting to return to normal. You looked up at your friend with tear stained cheeks, your breath hitching as you regained composure. “We just broke up. I’ve been locked in my room crying, and he’s been with her.”

“He’s a piece of shit. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re so much better than all of this.” She held your face in her hands and gave you a determined look. “You’re a fucking catch Y/N, he’s an idiot for not seeing that.” You nod, pretending you agree with her. “Let’s get you home. We’ll get a bunch of junk food and watch sad movies. Get all the tears out.”

“Hey Y/N, you alright?” Gemma pulls you from your thoughts.

You suddenly realize the house lights are up, and people are filing out of the stadium. “Oh yeah, sorry. It’s just crazy to think that he went from the weird boy with the dumb jokes to that,” you gesture toward the stage.

“Oh, he’s still the weird boy, he’s just telling his dumb jokes to a whole lot more people.” She joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go backstage.”

“Oh, no no no, you go. I should…”

“Not a chance,” she interrupted you. “You’ve gotta come back and see him.” You narrow your eyes at her, wondering why it was so important that you see him, but she just smiles innocently and leads you back to the VIP room.

****

You and Gemma get comfortable on a couch in the back corner of the room, so lost in conversation that you don’t even notice when all eyes in the room land on the door, cheering Harry as he enters. He walks through, offering hugs and handshakes, thanking people for coming and graciously receiving compliments on his performance.

Once he’s made his way to the back, he stops, silently observing you and his sister gossiping and giggling just like you always had.

“You’d better not be talking about me, or I’m telling mum.” His voice pulls you from your conversation, and you both turn to look at him.

Gemma grins and jumps from her seat. “You were outstanding.” She pulled him into a hug, saying something to him in a hushed tone.

He smiled gratefully at her as she sat back down, Harry turned to you with a curious expression. “Well? What did you think?”

“H,” his nickname fell so easily from your lips, as if you had never been apart. You stood up, looking at him with so much awe that he was taken aback. “You did it. I’m so,” you sigh with a shrug. “It was incredible.”

He smiled, dimples on full display. “Thank you, angel. You have no idea what that means to me.” He steps in front of you, pulling you into a firm embrace. You were so lost in the moment that it didn’t even register that he had called you by his pet name for you.

Gemma stood behind you, making sure to get Harry’s attention, she winked at him with a smirk before matriculating back into the crowd, allowing you two a moment.

When you finally separated, Harry looked down at you, his gaze so intense that you felt your cheeks heating up. “I should probably go,” you finally speak up.

“No, wait.” He says in a panicked tone. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

You furrow your brow, not expecting that. He’s in a room full of the most important people in his life, and he wants to be alone with you? “Yeah, sure.”

He leads you out of the VIP area and down the hall to his dressing room. He opens the door, signaling for you to enter. He follows behind you, closing the door once you both cross the threshold.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before Harry finally breaks the silence. “I’m really glad you came tonight.”

“Me too, thank you for inviting me.” You smile, trying to hide your nerves.

“I, uh…” he takes a breath, running his hand through his hair. “I miss you.”

You look up at him in confusion. “Harry, it’s been eleven years.”

“And I’ve missed you the entire time.” He took a couple of cautious steps towards you. “I was so stupid back then, so stupid. I know I wasn’t fair to you.”

“I told you, it’s fine, you were a kid. You did the best you could.” You assured him.

“I think running into you today was fate.” He ignores your words and keeps going. “We’ve both grown up, I’ve grown up. I see what’s important in life now.”

“Harry…”

“There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many things that happened that I wanted to celebrate with you, but I couldn’t. Every sold out show, every award, all of it, you were the first person I wanted to tell.”

You were speechless. You were listening to his words, watching the vulnerability in his face, all of it completely overwhelming you. Out of everything that could have come from your run in with Harry, this was probably the last thing you would have expected.

“I don’t… what?” Was all you managed to choke out.

“Listen, I’m not saying we jump right back in and pick up where we left off,” your eyes went wide at his words. “I broke your trust, that’s something I need to earn back. But I’d like to try, if you’d let me.”

“Try…”

He reached out, taking your hand and sighing in relief when you didn’t pull away. “I want to show you that I can be what you need, what you deserve.”

“What are you asking?” You ask, searching his face as if it held the answers.

“I just want to be in your life again, be your friend. I want to get to know you now, I want you to get to know me now, and see where things go from there.”

You stood in silence, looking into Harry’s eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the way he’s looking at you. You nod your head slowly. “Okay,” you respond, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully, you nod with a smile and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. “Thank you thank you thank you. I promise I’m not going to mess this up.” You chuckle against his chest. “What’s so funny?”

“Heather is going to kill me.”

A bark of laughter escapes him. “I’ll protect you,” he places a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry's house #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry edward styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic

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nobodyfamousposts · 1 year

Text

Why Scarlet Lady Is Better Than Canon: Lila Rossi

I had mentioned before at length regarding my distaste, dislike, and dissatisfaction with the character of Lila Rossi in Miraculous Ladybug canon. A character so horrible, so poorly written, and so two dimensional that I did not think it was possible to make any iteration of her I wouldn’t dislike.

And yet it seems @zoe-oneesama has come through for me yet again in Scarlet Lady by taking what was quite possibly one of my biggest issues and most despised characters within canon and with only a few changes, turning her into something enjoyable. Dare I even say…likable.

More than that, even. It says something when my least favorite character in Miraculous Ladybug canon can somehow become one of my top favorite characters in a different variation of it.

It’s because Zoe shows an understanding of the characters and what makes them engaging, and other than SL Adrien, it shows the most in the form of SL Lila.

See, Canon Lila Rossi is a selfish, manipulative, egotistical, petty, and self-centered liar.

Scarlet Lady Lila Rossi, on the other hand, is a selfish, manipulative, egotistical, petty, and self-centered liar.

Now I’m sure all of you are looking at those two sentences and noting that they’re the same thing. And you are right. That’s the point! Because the difference between the two versions isn’t who Lila is but rather in how the narrative and writing treat her and what Lila ends up doing because of it. And it’s why Scarlet Lady is superior in its handling of Lila.

Lila in Scarlet Lady is not a good person. Nor does she become a good person. She admits that she lies for fun and just to see how far she can take it. She’s fully on board with continuing her lies and trying to fool her mom and the school to get away with staying out of school for a year. This is all in lines with regular Canon Lila and shows that they are still the same person, it’s just the events and situation and narrative that differentiate them. It’s in how the Scarlet Lady story handles Lila and her character.

For the sake of convenience, I'm going to be using Scarlet Lady to refer to the comic itself and Scar to refer to Chloe's hero identity specifically.

Let’s review and compare Lila in Scarlet Lady to canon:

1. Lila in Scarlet Lady is NOT a plot device.

She doesn’t need to be. It’s clear that the plot is and has been moving forward on its own without her. Even if Lila were to have been removed from Scarlet Lady altogether, it’s pretty evident from everything else that’s been happening that we would still be getting to some plots and story points without too much difference or delay.

Scarlet Lady has a natural progression. The story and characters aren’t so rooted in the status quo that sudden additional character like Lila or Felix are necessary to throw in just to move things along. And Lila isn’t simply forgotten about when she’s not needed to do so. She doesn’t vanish without an explanation only to return also without explanation just to be able to force the plot to move.

Events within a story can be dependent on the characters, but the plot itself should not be dependent on what feels like a third party to show up and force things to happen when they should already be happening. That speaks of bad writing.

Canon Lila existed for the purpose of getting the Grimoire into Marinette’s hands so she could be the one to take it to Fu and learn about the Guardian and Miraculous secrets, as well as to be a future helper to Hawk Moth. Up until that point, the plot had done nothing with Fu and had done nothing to move things forward in learning about the Miraculous or why Hawk Moth would want the specific two. And after Volpina, the episodes that feature Lila are the ones that display more plot progression or involve Hawk Moth having layers to his plans. Lila only appears when she’s to be used to further a plot, then disappears until needed again.

In Scarlet Lady, by the time Lila appears, it’s already clear to Adrien, Plagg, and Fu that Scar is a horrible person and that she had no business being a hero. It’s also clear that Adrien is handling the hero work on his own and needs help. This is part of what causes Adrien to know that Lila is a liar and call her out on his own because in addition to Lila stealing his book, he already knows Scar well enough to know Lila’s story of Scar saving her would never happen. Lila isn’t the reason they find this out, nor is she the reason that the book is discovered and gets to the Guardian because Plagg chooses for himself to take Adrien to Fu. And afterwards, Lila’s appearances are more natural. Plot progression happens with and without her. Her appearances involve her interacting with her classmates like a person. They don’t have to have a plot-relevant purpose.

Narratively, there are three reasons to put in a scene.

Plot

Expansion/information/character focus

Entertainment

In canon, all of Lila's scenes are plot-focused and plot-driving.

In Scarlet Lady, they vary. Some are plot (like Lila's anti-Scar attitude getting more focus and validity over time). But more of Lila's scenes are focus in on her character and entertainment. This builds Lila as a person and makes her enjoyable to watch.

Lila is not a plot device as the plot doesn’t NEED her to progress. But that’s not to say that Lila doesn’t matter…

2. Lila has a role that nobody else in the story could cover.

As I’ve stated before, Canon Lila is pretty much another Chloe and there was nothing she was used for that Chloe couldn’t have or wouldn’t have been able to do. As a rival/foil to Marinette, as another love interest for Adrien, and even as a helper to Hawk Moth—by the time Lila started any of these roles, Chloe was already there and fully capable of filling them.

In Scarlet Lady, due to Scar being the hero Lila is butting heads with and being outted earlier on, SL Lila ends up not filling those same “roles”. She’s not a rival to Scar or Marinette, just a hater/critic of the former and a friend to the latter. She was called out by Adrien so she is shown to have no further interest in trying to pursue him. And as of yet, there has been nothing of Lila helping Hawk Moth.

Instead, Lila’s scenes show her engaging with the other classmates. More of the results of her being revealed as a liar. Her being a queen of sass and snark. And most importantly, her going head to head with Chloe and Scarlet Lady in verbal lashings that prove her silver tongue is no duller for people knowing of it.

In fact, she’s a part of people starting to realize that Scar is in fact horrible and her popularity starts to break down.

Yes, yes, we do have both Adrien and Marinette who realize how horrible Scarlet Lady is and hate her, but other than some snarky comments at her expense, they don’t do much about it. Mostly because they can’t. Especially early on, it’s clear that they’re forced to keep Scar around because as useless as she is otherwise, she is the only one who can purify the akuma and undo the damage. And as Fu has told them, Scar is still too popular with the city that trying to take the earrings from her would result in more problems. The two of them have to focus on dealing with the akumas more than trying to deal with Scar. Plus let’s be real: even as snarky as they both can get, they’re just too nice.

Others are also similarly of no help. Alya is still completely wrapped in Scar’s facade of a hero to see how selfish and unheroic she is. Most of the other classmates also go along with this narrative. But even the ones who DO know like Alix and Nino aren’t that active. They know but they don’t do anything with that knowledge.

Lila has no such barriers. She’s not a hero. She doesn’t know how “necessary” Scar is in akuma battles. And she doesn’t have to worry about not upsetting Scar since the “hero” already hates her. And thanks to Marinette and the other classmates with their “we still care about you for you” bit, she now has no reason to put up a mask…or a filter.

This makes Lila in prime position to try to push more against Scarlet Lady’s popularity and talk at length about how horrible she actually is. Something she is MORE than happy to do.

Lila is essentially the first main civilian hater of Scarlet Lady.

And with that in mind…

3. Lila’s actions are reasonable. Perhaps not intelligent, but they are reasonable.

She commits a number of the same acts as canon in Volpina. Stealing Adrien’s book, buying a necklace to be a fake Miraculous, trying to claim herself as the hero’s best friend for attention, and trying to claim she is a hero herself to get Adrien’s attention.

SL Lila is not a master manipulator or an up and coming villain. We are not expected to view her as a real threat to anything except Chloe’s ego.

Sure, she wants to speedrun the popularity and attention and maybe a nice rich blond boytoy to be her arm candy, but it’s clear in the very first comic she appears in that Lila has NO IDEA what sort of people she’s interacting with or telling lies about, and so has no way to prepare for what happens. First in that Adrien is so DONE with everything that he calls her out himself from the get go. Second in that Scarlet Lady appears to “save” Adrien from Lila’s lies when it was no longer necessary, proclaims aloud to the multitude of bystanders that Lila is a fraud, and then dumps her in a fountain for good measure and further insults her to boot. And at the end of it all, Scar doesn’t apologize for her actions, doubles down, and only further insults Lila. And as if all of that wasn’t bad enough, still being wet AND being on top of the Eiffel Tower results in her getting sick.

As such, Lila’s hatred of the Ladybug Hero in this version of events feels more understandable and based on a legitimate grievance. Several even. Scar’s actions go well beyond canon’s version. We clearly see how hurt and humiliated Lila is. Plus we have all of Scar’s previous antics to look back on and…well, we already came into this with more reason to hate Scarlet Lady than Lila, and Lila simply jumped on the bandwagon that was already there.

It also makes more sense then that Lila never even pretends to forgive Scar. Scar never apologized. She caused emotional and physical harm to Lila. And unlike Ladybug, Scar never tried to make an offer of friendship so Lila isn’t losing out on any opportunities out of spite. Heck, Scar’s treatment of Alya shows us that there is nothing to be gained from even pretending to be a fan of Scar. So Lila’s hatred of Scar is understandable and her refusal to be friends with Scar makes perfect sense.

When she hides away at her home, there’s a valid reason behind it due to her being sick. Her “plan” to fool her mom and the school in order to avoid going back also makes sense given the fallout she knows she would have to face if she did. (At least more sense than it made in canon for her to disappear for months just because Ladybug outted her to one guy who clearly seemed to be on her side more and neither of them did anything to inform anyone else of the truth.)

And when she returns to the school and the classmates, it isn’t out of nowhere. Once she was no longer sick, she was planning to continue some ruse. We clearly see how despondent Lila was over her situation and the feeling that she’s on her own and no one would side with her over Scar. This was deep. It shows real fears and feelings on Lila’s part. And it’s telling that it was the assurance from Marinette and support from her classmates that convinced her to rejoin the class. It doesn’t look like she would have had the willingness or perhaps the courage to do so if Marinette hadn’t reassured Lila that they had her back and had taken steps to try and help her, even when she wasn’t there and as of yet had done nothing to warrant it.

Here we see a Lila who is vulnerable and real. Who is clearly impacted by events on a deeper and more personal and meaningful level—or at least better than “GRR! Superhero revealed I was lying about her to a boy I like! I shall join the terrorist attacking the city and potentially destroy the WORLD for revenge!”

In this way, Lila is portrayed more like a normal girl. Since the narrative isn’t trying to play her off like she’s supposed to be some master manipulator the way canon does, Lila for all intents and purposes IS a normal teenage girl. A normal teenage girl who was humiliated and injured by someone with more power and social status than she can fight back against. She’s less of an archetype and more of a person with her own thoughts and feelings and ultimately choices which—even if we don’t like or agree with, we can at least see and understand.

Her actions are reasonable. Not just in that we as the audience can empathize with them but that they make sense. For Lila’s character, for her personality, and for someone in her position.

4. No plot armor.

SL Lila’s plans don’t just seamlessly work out. If anything, they go very wrong very quickly. Even before Scar calls her out, Adrien already made it clear that he knows she’s a liar. This effectively ruins her plan to try and get his interest and not just in the “Adrien being nice but not in to her” way. Furthermore, as she’s revealed as a liar in front of the entire class, we clearly see some of her classmates (Alya) continue to take issue with her later on. And even the ones who don’t have such issues are at least fully aware of Lila’s personality and don’t allow her to fool or manipulate them.

Sure, she still tries to manipulate her mom and the school to avoid having to go back, but that doesn’t last that long. And in Lila’s defense at that period of time, she was legitimately sick as a result of her dip in the fountain.

So it’s pretty clear that Lila lacks the plot armor that she had in canon. But it’s not just that Lila experiences losses, it’s also in the ways she succeeds. And unlike Canon Lila, SL Lila is not reliant on the plot to accomplish anything or make things work in her favor.

Some classmates still consider her friends. She’s still welcomed back—even with a bit more trepidation than before. She gets some epic zingers on Chloe and Scar. She got to have another interview with Alya just to be able to go on at length about how horrible Scar is. She manages to get on live TV just to heckle Scar. And over time, more and more people are seeing the problems with Scar.

Lila still gets some victories. Certainly not as many and not as big as what she gets in canon, but at least they don’t feel so forced. And they’re entertaining to see.

Which delves a bit more into an additional point I wanted to make…

5. There are consequences and responses to Lila and her lies.

With Canon Lila, everyone is in this weird sort of limbo where they automatically believe Lila JUST ENOUGH to not question her but at the same time NOT ENOUGH to actually follow through with some of her lies. In Chameleon, Lila claims to have and then magically be cured of Tinnitus and Bustier believes her just enough to rearrange the seats for her at her will but not enough to require some doctor’s note or confirmation of either the presence or recovery from the medical issue—even in the event the former could be overlooked, the latter could NOT and any school or teacher worth their salt would require SOME proof to discontinue an accommodation for someone with a disability because that would be a liability. In Ladybug, Lila claimed Marinette pushed her down stairs and the adults believed her just enough to admonish Marinette but not enough to get Lila actual medical attention, which is a liability and gross negligence. In Ono-chan, Nino believes Lila’s lies about needing Adrien to help tutor her just enough to give her an opening to go to his place but not enough to follow through, check up on her afterwards, or reasonably consider that maybe the supermodel with the super strict father might not be the best person to tutor her and he should ask for help from Max or Sabrina instead?

Each and every time, Lila is believed in the exact way she wants to the exact extent that would most benefit her with minimal effort on her part when it shouldn’t work that way. Even if we disregard how stupidly obvious many of her lies are, there is something wrong when they believe her enough to trust what she says over anyone else telling them otherwise but not enough to follow through on what that belief should then involve. They believe her when she says someone pushed her down the stairs but not enough to get her medical attention? Make sure she has no broken bones or internal bleeding? This has the issue of ruining the suspension of disbelief and making it look like the problem isn’t Lila being amazingly smart and evil so much as it is everyone around Lila being infuriatingly stupid and negligent.

Scarlet Lady nixes that problem in one episode by having Lila be revealed as a liar immediately, but furthermore follows up on it and the fallout of those lies. Nothing big or major or life-ruining—it’s middle school, after all. But the impact is still there.

Even episodes later, we see effects of Lila’s earlier lies. Chloe of course keeps referencing them in their encounters and yeah, it is reason for no one to really take Lila’s word against Scar’s—at least at first. Alya and Adrien both give her some pretty evil looking stares, showing that even five episodes later they both still very much remember what she did and do not approve of her getting free jewelry. Alya in particular stands out. She is shown to bear such a grudge against Lila for lying on her blog that she holds no sympathy for her being sick. And in the second intermission, she looks physically pained when she has to ask Lila for an interview on why she hates Scar. Something she had apparently sworn she would never do again after being fooled the first time. And something Lila looks completely overjoyed to do. There are people who are angry with Lila. They have every reason and every right to be. But it doesn’t have to mean the end of the world for her. It just means that there needs to be something.

The classmates don’t have to be made out to be stupid to make Lila work. They are canonically very kind and forgiving people. But canon makes them come off that way more because the lack of continuity seems to erase the lessons of previous episodes or somehow make them forget that certain people are horrible.

Zoe fixes this and a lot of problems in canon by having not just the classmates but EVERYONE in Paris remember and respond to things that have happened previously, even if just in little ways. Given how little room Zoe has to work with, this is HUGE. Simply adding comments here and there puts the scenes from canon in a new light and makes the classmates feel more fleshed out and like…dare I say it: PEOPLE.

The difference from Canon has a lot to do with how everyone else reacts to Lila, which makes these other characters and Lila appear more real and like fleshed out people rather than caricatures who only exist and move as the plot requires. They don’t have to bash Lila or try to light her on fire for it to be clear that Lila isn’t a good person and that there are consequences to her actions.

This is all leading up to the real possibility of…

6. Character arc?

It says something that contrary to most expectations, Lila is not what one would consider to be redeemed in Scarlet Lady. Lila is not a good person here just because she rejoins the class and becomes their friend and Zoe at no point tries to pretend that she is.

Marinette and other classmates made the choice to reach out and try to befriend Lila, but unlike most other arcs in other stories, this doesn’t result in Lila being redeemed. And she in no way got Lila to admit she was wrong and try to be a good person.

Lila is not necessarily forgiven or absolved of what she did. Nor is anything Lila did magically erased. All Marinette did and all she had to do was encourage Lila to not run away now that the truth was out. She helped convince her to return to the class with everyone fully knowing what she’s done and the type of person that she is and move forward with that. She informs Lila that despite her lies, there are people in the class who genuinely care about her and are worried about her.

Hell, it’s not even all up to Marinette. We see Alix sending messages to Lila encouraging her to join the class for Marinette’s birthday party. Sabrina fully admitted to inviting Lila to that party. Same with Rose, who has also been expressed to be worried about Lila. There are members of the class who are shown to care about her and who were noted to have made an effort to help Lila even after what had happened. Because they consider her a friend despite what she did, and that’s what friends do. All they asked was that Lila stop with the lies, stop with running away, and give people a chance.

And the result is the more mellow but passive aggressive Lila Rossi we see in Scarlet Lady. Not a Lila who is a good person or who is redeemed. This is a Lila who is at least honest with everyone about the sort of person that she is. She’s not pretending like she was in canon. She’s not being fake. She’s not putting on a mask of niceness anymore. This is a Lila who is fully acknowledged by everyone to have been a liar, to still be very selfish, and in some ways...a bad influence.

With a few episodes left, perhaps there is more we’ll see of Lila’s development and who she’ll become. Maybe we’ll get to see her take the steps to become better. To be a good friend, a good person, and maybe even a better hero than Scar. I don’t know for sure just yet what Zoe has planned for a character like Lila, but I do know what I see here:

A good start.

#ml analysis #scarlet lady #scarlet lady is better than canon #lila rossi #lila salt #for zoe #merry christmas

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seeingivy · 11 months

Text

never grow up

satoru gojo x f!reader

tsumiki’s first date doesn’t go so well.

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: megumi + tsumiki kiddos, mentions of heartbreak, reader says she wants to murder a child at one point, reader and gojo are soulmates, written for my girlies who are still waiting for love (I am the target audience)

an: my other gojo fic is personally victimizing me. like physically giving me pain in my soul its making me very mad. anyways here is a consolation prize (very old draft) while I try to revive that dumpster fire and not rip my hair out in the process. apologies to the gojo girlies im sorry :(((

You press down the ends of Tsumiki’s hair, setting her hair against the hairband that she had picked out. You feel her reach up, squeezing your hands as you give her hair one last spray lean down to press a kiss to the top of her head.

She turns around, pressing herself against your legs as Satoru and Megumi walk in, leaning against the doorframe. They’re both irritated - not big fans of the whole ordeal.

Tsumiki’s going on a date.

Satoru was very adamant about it at first. Tsumiki can’t go on a date. She’s only thirteen and she has no business looking at boys, let alone going out with one.

But she was just so excited, her tiny little eyes looking up into yours as she pleaded with you to convince him. So you did - his favorite dessert, a few kisses, and batting your pretty eyelashes until he gave in. And he always does.

Megumi wasn’t one to exactly stop it per say, but he had made his opinions clear. He’s not a nice guy. Dates are stupid. Love isn’t real. You chalk it up to the fact that he’s a morbid nine year old.

The three of you clump by the door as you watch her walk out the door, shooting you one last toothy smile before locking her fingers with the boy, Hiro she said his name was, and skipping down the walkway to where his parents were waiting.

Megumi trails off immediately, running up to his room as you and Satoru watch the car drive away. He reaches over, locking his fingers with yours, as he cranes his neck out the doorway to watch the car disappear down the street.

“She’s too young to go on a date, Y/N. What if he’s an idiot?”

You wrap your arms around him, squeezing his arms as he deflates against you.

“They’re thirteen, Toru. I bet they’re just going to awkwardly hold hands during the movie and freak out about it. It’ll be fine.”

“And what if something else happens and she comes home crying, love?”

“She’s growing up. Stuff like that will happen. We just have to be here to catch her, that’s all.”

You and Satoru are standing outside the movie theater, the rain pouring against the shade, as you wait for Tsumiki to leave the theater. She had texted you - two hours earlier than she was supposed to, much to Satoru’s dismay - and had said that she wanted to come home.

And when she comes out, you know you made the wrong choice by letting her go. Because there she is, crying puddles like Satoru said she would. Her eyes are swollen, her cheeks tinted pink, and the look on her face is just about to make you cry. She looks heartbroken.

She holds her hand out to Satoru, the two of them walking off to the car as you trail behind the time.

You feel horrible. You pushed her too hard, too early - letting your own past get caught up in what you were doing with Tsumiki. You remember it vividly. Pining in your room, saying no to dates because you knew your parents would never let you go. Getting stuck wondering about what could have been, how much love you lost out on just because someone stopped you.

You didn’t want to do that to Tsumiki. Let her lose out on feeling special, having someone hand her flowers, and making her smile just because she was only thirteen.

This is somehow worse. She’s only thirteen and she knows. The soul crushing feeling of someone not returning your feelings, thinking you’re weird, having love to hold onto that no one wants to return.

The three of you return home, not having uttered a single word the entire ride home. Megumi was still over at Yuji’s, having ran over to his house across the street the second the two of you went to pick up Tsumiki.

“Want me to go get him, Toru?”

“Not yet, love. We have to talk to Miki first.”

You press your hands against your sides, awkwardly ambling into the kitchen where she was sitting at the table. She had unwrapped the plate you had made her - that she was supposed to eat when she told you about how great her date was. Instead she looks deflated, pushing her fork across the sides as she picks out the smallest bites of food.

You sit next to her and watch Satoru zip around the kitchen, placing items in front of you. Three spoons, strawberries, and the industrial tub of chocolate ice cream that Satoru bought against your protests.

He leans forward, taking the plate in front of Tsumiki onto the side and pushing the ice cream in front of her. He hands the two of you spoons, taking the third, and opens the lid.

“Alright Miki. Let’s talk, yeah?”

“No.”

She lowers her head, digging her spoon into the ice cream as you and Satoru stand at her sides. He leans over, slinging his arm around her shoulder as he gestures to you to do the same. You both lean your heads against hers, the three of you still digging into the ice cream.

You’re not sure when she started, but when you look over, Tsumiki’s crying, her hold on both of your hands so tight you can feel the blood stopping. The three of you wordlessly eat the ice cream, until Satoru breaks the silence - nearly an hour later.

“Want to talk about it now?’

“I just got sad. When we got there, he asked me if one of my friends liked anyone because he liked her. Not me.”

You can feel the bitterness sticking in your throat - a heavy mix of guilt and anger. You never really understood child violence, but you think you’re starting to get it. Because why would he take her all the way there just to say that? Hold her hand on the pavement just to ask about her friend? You’re going to throttle him.

“I just wanted someone to like me like you guys like each other.”

You and Satoru look at each other over the top of her head, your heart squeezing in your chest at her words.

“Someone will, Tsumiki. I promise, okay?”

She crushes her hand in yours, nodding as she leans closer into you. You can see the gears in Satoru’s head moving as he looks over, shaking his head at you.

“Can I tell you something, Tsumiki?’

She looks up at him, the two of you looking into his bright, blue eyes.

“No one liked Y/N when she was younger.”

You glare at him, rolling your eyes. He can’t be serious.

“Really?”

“Yeah. She went months, years on end waiting for someone to like her back, you know?”

“Thank you for the reminder, Satoru.”

He ruffles the top of your hair as Tsumiki laughs, shaking his head at the two of you.

“What I mean is, Y/N and I had to wait for each other. We didn’t get it right on the first try or even the third, fourth, or fifth try. Y/N dated guys who were mean to her, I dated girls who didn’t even really like me, and we both were really, really sad about it.”

Now you get it.

“I waited for Y/N. She didn’t just come around super easy, okay? You’ll have to wait for your Y/N too.”

“Waiting for Satoru made it all the sweeter when I got to him, you know?”

She looks up, a questioning look in her eyes as she angles her neck upwards.

“The thing you’re waiting for is worth it. And you don’t have to worry about it not coming, because it will. And when it comes, you won’t even remember that you had ever waited, that you ever felt this way.”

You and Satoru both watch her wipe her tears with the back of her hand, nodding as she gives the two of you one last hug and pads off to her room. You and Satoru stay in the kitchen, your hands locked together as you eat the tub of ice cream Satoru left out.

You lean over, pressing your forehead against his shoulder as you groan. He places his free hand in your hair, soothing through the tangles at the ends of your hair.

“What are you groaning, love?”

“I should have just listened to you. She’s all sad now because I let her go.”

“That’s not your fault. It was right to let her go now because it was bound to happen one day.”

“I know that, Toru. I just…I don’t want her to grow up. I don’t think I really realized it before but people can hurt her. The bad way. And we can’t really protect her from that.”

He lets go of the spoon, circling his hands around your face as he lifts your head up. He’s looking down at you, stupid blue eyes glimmering, as he gives you a soft smile.

“She’s growing up. Stuff like that will happen. And she won’t be alone, because we’ll be there to catch her.”

“Don’t quote me back to me dumbass. I hate you.”

He laughs in response, leaning down to press soft kisses to your face - your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose. You shrug him off, pressing yourself against his shoulder again, his hand rubbing small circles into your side.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Toru.” you whisper, leaning closer to him.

“You’re so dramatic.”

He leans down, pressing kisses all over your face till you’re smiling so big you have to push him off. He always does this - tickles, kisses, squishes you to death until you smile at him again. He stops, pulling you close again as you both swing your legs against the chair.

“Thanks for waiting for me too, love.”

You and Satoru drag Tsumiki and Megumi to the bookstore the next day, much to Megumi’s dismay. You tell Tsumiki that she can pick anything she wants out and that the two of you will buy it for her.

She joins the two of you at the front, holding a laminated purple calendar in her hands. You crouch down, turning it over in your hands, as she looks at you. It’s a fifteen year calendar - which you didn’t even know they made.

“You picked…a calendar?”

“I want to count down the days. Till I find my you.”

She skips off, entering the line as you and Satoru follow, your hands locked together. He squeezes your hands three times, giving you a soft smile, as you return his three squeezes.

One squeeze for each word. I love you.

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

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theswiftieapple · 18 days

Note

Hey I saw you do request and I was wondering if you could do a Phoebe x fem!reader and reader is a new member of the ghostbusters and Phoebe is the one training her

You have a pretty smile

Phoebe Spengler x she/her reader

Phoebe and reader's age; 17

Word count; 6447

Warning; some swearing, I haven't written any fanfiction since 2019 so my writing is rusty and english isn't my mother language.

I hope you like it. :)

Narrator’s POV;

The car ride to the Paranormal Research Center was one filled with excited chatter. Lucky was the one driving y/n, a new member of the Ghostbusters, to meet her new partners in crime. Lucky was the one to introduce y/n to Winston, they met when y/n moved with her family to the USA. Lucky was the one to help Y/n with a heavy box when she was moving in and they started talking. They decided to keep hanging out and Lucky thought y/n's personality would fit them great and she showed great interest in the paranormal. Winston at the time was already on the lookout for a new member, four may be the original number of the Ghostbusters but it's better to have too many than too few.

Lucky introduced them and Winston got to know y/n, he could tell she had the potential and agreed. That’s how y/n got into this situation, walking to the Paranormal Research Center, fiddling with her fingers, incredibly nervous. From what she heard the other members were nice people but that wouldn't stop the anxiety.

Lucky glanced at her friend sensing her fear, she put a hand on her shoulder to stop her from walking, the door only a few steps away. “Hey, don’t worry about this too much. You’ll do great and they’ll love you! If something does happen you can always come to me and Winston.”

Y/n turned to look at Lucky as she talked, some of her fear disappearing for a short moment. “We’ll stay friends right?” Lucky smiled reassuringly “Of course, would a hug help?” Y/N nodded to the question receiving a tight hug in return. They pulled apart and y/n sighed deeply turning to the door “Let's get the first meeting over with then” Playing confident she walked to the door, Lucky cheered and clapped her back, then she put her card near the scanner to open the large doors.

—

“What do you mean by a new member?” Callie asked, confused. “Wait, does that mean one of us is getting fired?” Trevor asked worriedly.

“If so it’s probably you,” Phoebe said seriously, she was of course joking but her brother didn't know that. The little joke didn't calm Trevor who opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by Winston.

“We have been looking for a new member for the Ghostbusters for months now, there are a few reasons why we wanted to expand the team. There are still many ghosts we need to re-catch even two years after they were all released again thanks to Garraka, another member would be able to help with that. I also think a new member would inject fresh energy and ideas. Someone with a different and new background would give us a new perspective on problems and help us solve things quicker. I genuinely do believe this could help the team.” he explained calmly, he seemed quite happy with his decision.

“Why didn’t you maybe warn us beforehand?” Gary asked, baffled at the information they had been kept in the dark from for months. “Well I didn't want to create any false hope, I wanted us to be sure that we found someone new that none of you know.”

“When are we meeting them?” Phoebe asked curious, there was a small part of her that was worried that the new member could betray them. She shuffled at the thought of Melody, she still has some trouble trusting new people.

Footsteps were heard approaching the main doors including a small beep indicating someone was about to come in.

“Right now” Winston smiled as he turned to the door.

“Wait what” Trevor asked bewildered as he and his family turned to the door.

Lucky walked into the lab with a pretty girl next to her. Phoebe's eyes widened at the realization of what she just thought.

“This is y/n! Y/n this is your new team” Phoebe's eyes stayed focused on her new team member as Winstron introduced them. “y/n this is Callie'' Callie smiled at Y/n shaking her hand gently. “This is Gary” Gary shot her a smile as well shaking her hand. “This is Trevor, Callies son,”

“I’m the cool one of the group,” Trevor explained, shaking her hand while smiling proudly.

Phoebe’s POV

“And this is Phoebe, Callies daughter” My eyes met hers as we shook hands. I forgot for a second that we weren’t alone, so I let go and sent her an awkward smile, my hand still tingling from the feeling. Why am I feeling like this? Did I just call her pretty in my head? Why is my hand tingling like this?

I was so busy with these thoughts and observing the newcomer that I didn’t notice the glances my brother shared with Lucky, scheming glances.

“She’s new to this, so she is going to need someone to train her and I was hoping one of you could do it” Winston explained, “Phoebe could do it.” My head snapped to look at my brother, giving him a ‘what the fuck’ look. “Phoebe is the smartest one in our team” I could hear Dad whisper a small ouch, “she's the one who's been using our equipment the longest and they’re close in age! How old are you?” He asked y/n, “I’m seventeen-” She was cut off by Trevor clapping his hands, “perfect! What do you think sis?” Trevor teased, ignoring my glare as he put his arm on my shoulder.

“I-uhm sure” I answered nervously, “Well that’s great then! She is going to be living with you, my men are already cleaning the empty room and assembling the furniture as we speak”

“What empty room?” Mom asked surprised, “There’s no empty room in the firehouse”, I could see y/n being confused like the rest of us except for Lucky and Winston. “The room behind the bookshelf next to Tevor and Phoebe's room of course”

“There’s been an empty room behind one of our bookshelves and you didn't tell us?”

Winston shrugged at my dad, “I thought you all knew but didn’t use it” He said simply.

“What’s next, a second bathroom?” Trevor jokes, and the glance shared between Lucky and Winston speaks volumes. “ You’re kidding”

“Well then, that’s that, as I said my men are working right now and they should be done very soon. Y/n’s uniform and an extra proton pack and all the other things are being sorted as we speak. I’m just going to have a small talk with Callie and Gary about some things, you guys could get acquainted with each other during that time.” Winston signals my parents to follow him to another room.

Y/n POV;

“It’s an honour to finally meet you guys, I’ve heard a lot of fantastic things about you,” I tell them, the nerves still haven’t disappeared and neither has the excitement. I’m worried they won’t like me, I could feel Phoebe? I think her name was glancing at me. I have to admit she is quite attractive and cute.

I feel warmth on my cheeks as I keep thinking about her. I can’t think like that about her right now, I just met her. Plus she’s going to be my teammate and that could complicate things. I’ll have to ignore this small..crush, if I can call it that, for now.

“Thank you, I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun together,” Trevor said with a small smirk on his face as he put his arm around me. I didn’t notice the teasing smirk he sent his sister or the glare she sent back. “So there is something I have to warn you about,” He said as he and Lucky led me to the famous Ectomobile with Phoebe following behind. “About what?” I ask, worried.

“It’s about a ghost called Slimer, he lives with us”

“What.” I state giving him a serious and worried look as we enter the car.

—

“I think I’ll stay clear of the attic then,” I say as we exit the car. The conversation did drift a lot in the car, I didn’t mind too much since it was nice observing and learning more about them. They all talked except for Phoebe who kept quiet for most of the ride. I could feel her glance at me a few times, she was clearly in thought the whole ride.

“Yeah that’s probably the smarter decision, you should have seen Trevor when he met Slimmer for the first time” Callie teased ruffling her son's hair.

“Mom!”

“Well then as nice as it is talking with all of you, I am going to have to steal y/n here, I’m going to be the one helping her decorate and sort out her room. If you’ll excuse us” Lucky said, sending them a smile before dragging me away to my new room.

Narrator’s POV;

“What’s up with you?”

Phoebe turned to look at her mom, acting oblivious. “What do you mean?” Callie came closer wearing a teasing look. “I mean that you’ve been very quiet since we met our new member, lost in thought.”

“And lost in her eyes” Trevor teased as he walked away snickering, Phoebe grabbed a random towel and threw it at him, hitting him in the back, and he scurried off after that.

“Well your brother isn't completely wrong, everything okay?” Callie asked, her worry present in her eyes. Phoebe stared at her shoes, for a moment, “I’m alright, don’t worry about it Mom” She left with that, lost in her thoughts.

—

“So, you and Phoebe” Lucky started as she opened a box full of different books. “Don’t start” y/n warns, Lucky turns to her friend with a knowing look.

“I have a very strong feeling you have a small crush on her.”

“I don’t”

Lucky made a sound of disagreement while making a face, “Maybe not yet, but you feel something, I can tell” she sang the last part, dodging a small pencil case, her smirk not faltering.

“I know your type, remember you told me”

“Yeah because we made a deal that you would tell me who you like in return, and that someone is in this building as we speak.” y/n teased back. Lucky opened her mouth to try and form words, her cheeks having a red hue to them. “This isn’t about me and that someone-”

“Trevor you mean”

Y/n snorted at the look she received. “As I was saying, this is about you and Phoebe and the small crush that's going to grow stronger with time, she is quite literally what you described your type to me, short hair, fluffy or curly, glasses, a nerd-”

“Yeah, I get it” Y/n grumbles as she puts her bed lining on, “can you help me with this?” She raises the comforter pleadingly. Lucky stands up and helps her even it out. “I just don't want to label these feelings since we just met, besides the chances of her liking me isn’t zero but it’s also unlikely right now”

Lucky put a hand on her friend's shoulder comfortingly, “As your friend it's my job to remind you that there is a good chance she may like you back” Y/n played with one of her pillows thoughtfully. “I don’t want to rush anything, maybe she will and maybe she won’t but thank you”Lucky smiled back at her friend, “Now where do you want me to put these CDs”

Y/n smiled and showed her friend.

—

Y/n’s POV;

Dinner went nicely, I mostly listened as the family shared a few recent stories about the ghosts they’ve captured lately. Phoebe was quiet through most of it. I could tell the way she was behaving wasn't normal, I noticed thanks to the small looks her family were giving her.

I got comfortable in bed and stared outside the window, it was pouring. I hope I didn’t upset her with being here, if I did I could see why. I am a total stranger that just appeared today, she was then told I would live with her and her family at the same time. It’s a lot of new information and a lot of new changes.

I turned on a show on my phone to fall asleep too. I lost consciousness In a matter of a few minutes, hoping tomorrow would go well.

—

I woke up to soft knocking, I turned around to look at the door, squinting to see who it was. “Good morning, breakfast is going to be ready in half an hour, I wanted to make sure you were awake.” I sent Gary a smile and muttered a small thank you and with that, he disappeared.

I sat up and stared at my lap thoughtfully. Today was my first official day as a Ghostbuster or at least a Ghostbuster in training.

Phoebe was going to be the one training me, I’m already dreading the weight of the proton pack. With those thoughts I stand up and get ready for the day, dressing in something comfortable and doing my hair.

I walk out of my room and glance at the firefighter pole, it’s too early in the morning for that and I’m not in the mood to land in the hospital on my first day so I walk down the stairs. I was met with the sight of Gary cooking and Trevor stealing some of the fruit when he wasn't looking.

“Good morning,” I say and sit down on one of the chairs at the kitchen island. “Good morning!” Gary smiled as he flipped a pancake, “Morning!” Trevor said with a mouth full of strawberries. “So how are you feeling about your first day?” Gary asked, trying to start a conversation.

“I’m a bit nervous, I’ve never done anything like this before but I am excited,” I explained fiddling with my fingers. “You’ll do great I’m sure! With Phoebe as your teacher, it’ll all go great.”

I smiled and whispered a small thank you. “Do you need any help?” I ask, ready to stand up. “Nah, I’ve got this but thank you” Gary told me as he put the pan away, I could see him playfully swap Trevor's hand away from the cut fruit.

“Where’s Phoebe?” Trevor asked, sitting next to me, he put his fist underneath his chin. “She woke up early, she’s visiting Podcast and Dr Ray, she had something to discuss with them. I don’t know what it is though” Gary explained as he put plates in front of me and Trevor, I took a sip out of the glass in front of me.

“So what do you guys usually do when there isn’t a ghost to bust?” I asked as I put some toppings on my pancake.

—

Phoebe’s POV;

I opened the door to Dr Ray’s shop, “Morning Dr Ray” I said as I entered, he looked up at me surprised. “Morning Phoebe, you’re here earlier than usual”

“I wanted to talk with Podcast about something, is he here or?”

“I’m right here!” He said, his head poking out from the door behind Dr Ray, “ I'll see you later then” Dr Ray smiles and continues to read a book. I go in and walk after Podcast, “So what’s up?”

“There’s a new ghostbuster on the team” I blurted out. He stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. “There’s a new ghostbuster?” He asked excitedly, “Is that bad or?” He raised an eyebrow noticing my attitude.

I leaned against his desk before I continued speaking “It’s not bad, she seems...nice” I started, he did a hand signal telling me to continue “I’m the one who's going to be training her and well” I stopped talking not knowing how to continue. Podcast gave me a look.

“What?”

“You’re acting weird, does the idea of training her bother you or?”

I shake my head “No, it doesn’t, I just feel..nervous”

Podcast flings one of the Pufts that was bothering him as I speak before he responds “Why are you nervous? Are you worried she might betray us and release a great evil that we’re going to have to defeat?” He asks, I give him a deadpan look. “Listen if you are worried about that, that would be okay. I’m just trying to understand what the problem is here.” He reasons, sending me a concerned look.

I put a hand in my hair, messing with it. “That’s the problem, I don’t even know what's bothering me about this situation exactly. I met her yesterday and she’s staying with us now as well. She does seem nice, Winston and Lucky recruited her, I know they have good instincts but” I sigh deeply grimacing. “I don’t know, there’s some weird feeling in me and I’m worried about what it could be and what it could turn into.”

“You’re scared that you like her?” Podcasts asks bluntly, “I just met her, there’s no way I have feelings already.'' I protest, “But, the way I’m feeling right now, is similar to how I felt when meeting Melody, but it's also different. I don’t understand it and I hate not understanding things.”

There was silence for a moment until Podcast spoke, “Well I don’t think you’ll understand what that feeling is for a good while. You two just met, there could be special feelings involved but you won’t know for sure for a while. I suggest just letting those feelings take their course.”

“Why didn’t I think of that,” I say out loud, Podcast patted my shoulder “That’s what I’m here for, being the voice of reason”

—

I walked into the firehouse after having a long talk with Podcast. I still don’t like the idea of unknown feelings and I am worried about feeling something for someone again but there isn’t anything I can do about it.

“Uno!” A collecting group of groaning was heard alongside a laugh.

I walk into the room to see My family playing Uno with y/n and Lucky. “How do you win so much, this is the fifth time” Trevor whined, putting his head on the table. “Magic” y/n says jokingly doing jazz hands, “I have two other card games that I think you’d like”

“Do you have ‘Frantic’ with you?” Lucky asked, but before she could answer the alarm went off, signalling there was a ghost loose causing havoc. “Hey Phoebs! Let’s go!”Mom said as she rushed off, Gary and Trevor following, “Hey y/n, we can start with the training when I get back” I called out to her, “Lucky and you could meet me at the Research Center after we bust this ghost” I say awkwardly shooting her some finger guns before turning around and walking away quickly, hoping the heat that I feel on my cheeks wasn’t what I thought it was and if it is then that they didn't notice.

Narrator’s POV;

Lucky and y/n cleaned up after themselves soon after and drove to the Paranormal Research Center. Y/n went to a changing room to put on her uniform. She walked out nervous, “Does it look okay?” She asked, Lucky turned around and gasped, “You look amazing!! Do a spin!” She asked excitedly while clapping. Y/n did as asked.

“It suits you perfectly!” She said hugging her friend. “Thank you, you’re too nice” Lucky pulled away, “I bet when Phoebe sees you in it, her jaw will drop” Y/n rolled her eyes playfully “We’ll see about that. So while we wait why don't you update me on that new ghost you’ve been studying on”

Lucky’s smile widened, excited to share her new discoveries, she grabbed y/n’s wrist and dragged her to her working station.

Phoebe walked into the lab an hour later, fixing her hair from all the wind. She could see Lucky explaining something while y/n listened patiently, wearing her Ghostbusters uniform. Phoebe had to force herself to not stare for too long, so she walked up to the two of them. “And that’s why we had to make sure those two weren’t next to each other, I swear I couldn't focus properly the whole time”

“Hey there, sorry to interrupt your conversation, but are you ready for your first training session?” Phoebe asks, standing in front of them.“Yeah, I am! We’ll continue with our talk later” Y/n told Lucky before turning to Phoebe again who led her to the small training room. “The uniform suits you, not many can pull it off”

Y/n turned to look at Phoebe surprised, a small blush on her cheeks, “thank you, you look great in it too” she says, hoping that wasn’t too straightforward. “So, Winston said you have no prior experience”

Y/n nodded, “I have never used any of this equipment, correct.”

Phoebe crossed her arms nodding, “alright then, first thing first is to put the proton pack on, you can put it on normally like a backpack.” Y/n did as told, she let out a little grunt at the weight.” I knew they would be heavy but wow, now what next?” she asked excitedly.

“You hold this part, the particle thrower, you can also call it a particle gun” The new member did as told before looking at Phoebe again nodding. “Wait, can I show you something?” Phoebe asked, she got a nod as a response.

She stepped closer, only centimetres apart as she helped y/n hold it properly, putting her hands where they are supposed to be. “ See that ghost up there,” Phoebe asked, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore her own bubbling feelings. She was so busy that missed y/n staring at her face, a blush forming. “Yeah i-uh do” y/n responds, trying to focus as well.

She’s holding a dangerous weapon, she’s seen what they could do online, she needs to focus, she tells herself. “Okay, I’m going to help you with this one and show you how to turn it on. Are you ready?” Phoebe asked, glancing at her, “Yes I am.”

“Okay you switch it on like this” Phoebe explained as she turned it on with y/n, “when you’re ready to shoot you press this button right here, on the count of three, ready?

Y/n took a deep breath in before answering “Ready”

“1” Phoebe starts, glancing at y/n.

“2,” She says tightening her grip, y/n tries to steady her breathing.

“3”

With that they shot at the ghost made out of wood, It falling apart in two. Y/n’s jaw dropped, “That’s how you’re going to practise, the actual thing takes longer and needs more strength but our priority is to perfect your aim for now, the charged particle accelerator is a weapon of science that can cause a lot of damage if used incorrectly and without proper practice.”

“First of all that was awesome” Y/n stated with a wide smile on her face, “two, I’ve heard of all of that, Lucky told me about some of your bigger damages. It’s impressive how something so dangerous can be something that helps so many people'' Y/n rambles, observing the damage with interest. While she was distracted Phoebe looked at all her features close up. She could feel her cheeks turning red from all the close proximity. She slowly pulled away crossing her arms, not knowing how to act.

“Well whenever you’re ready, you can start practising, I’ll be here the whole time, so if you need any help just tell me” Phoebe said while rubbing the back of her neck. Y/n nodded as another ghost came down, Phoebe didn't stray far, staying a few steps away just in case.

Y/n took a deep breath before shooting, hitting the wooden ghost on the side, she stumbled backwards, and Phoebe caught her in time, holding the particle thrower with her. “Okay that was your first time on your own and it went better than expected.”

“Better than expected?” Y/n asked embarrassed, “Yeah, you’re doing okay, try again, I’ll stay closer to catch you if that happens again okay?”

Outside of the training room, Lucky was observing their interactions with a small scheming smirk. “What are you smirking at?” Lars asked as he opened the spirit extractor, taking a spirit-free plushie out of it.

“No reason,” Lucky answered, ignoring the eyebrow raise of Lars, he shook his head and walked away to continue working.

The training went on until 5 pm, y/n was exhausted after all the trying, her arms sore, but it was all worth it, the thought of capturing ghosts excited her. Phoebe opened the door of the training room letting her out first, y/n nodded and muttered a small thank you as she walked out. “Keep this up and I think you’ll be ready to go out with me- “ she cut herself off quickly, trying to correct herself “I mean go out with us on missions soon.”

She tried not to look at y/n's face, she didn’t want to make it any more awkward.

As they were walking to the main doors, saying their goodbyes to the other workers, Lars called out “Y/n!”

The said person turned around to look at the scientist, “Lucky asked me to tell you that she’s going to come to visit and help out more with your room around 6 pm”

“Thank you, have a nice night!”

Phoebe bit her lip for a second before continuing with their walk, Gary was picking them up today. She looked at Y/n who was walking beside her. Did..she and Lucky maybe have something going on? She turned around quickly when she met eyes with y/n.

“I hope not,” Phoebe whispers to herself, “What did you say?” Y/n asked curious, Phoebe straightened her back, she opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. Luckily for her, Gary appeared with the Ectomobile, saving her for now.

“Hey there you two! Are you ready to go home?” He asked with a wide smile.

They both got in the car and put their seatbelts on, the car ride back was quiet, the only background noise being the music playing on the radio.

The evening wasn't much different than last night, Phoebe disappeared to her room and didn’t come out until morning, leaving y/n slightly confused and worried.

—

Phoebe sat on one of the chairs at the kitchen island, drinking some coffee while tapping her pencil on the island, thinking, trying to calm down. The idea of having to be so close to y/n made her giddy and scared her at the same time.

She was worried she would make it awkward like last night if Gary didn’t appear when he did…

She sighed, putting her pencil and coffee down, putting her head in her hands, staring at the open notebook, full of scribbles, she couldn’t focus on her work. Her head was filled with images of last night, her heartbeat picking up remembering how close she was to y/n. She couldn’t lie, she missed the warmth of her hands underneath hers, they were soft. She let her mind wander, imagining how they would feel properly holding her hands.

“Phoebe, are you doing okay?”

Her hands slammed on the table making the coffee spill by accident, she turned to look at the newcomer. “Oh, hi,” Phoebe said brushing imaginary dust off of her shirt” Hi” she leaned on the island crossing her arms, sending y/n an awkward smile. “Hi”

In her head, Phoebe was cursing herself out, ‘three hi’s??’

Y/n glanced at the spilt coffee and then back to Phoebe, with a questioning look, before she could repeat the question, she got an answer. “I’m doing okay, alright, doing great.” Phoebe cringed at her repetitive awner, Y/n walked closer, her face not changing. Phoebe put a hand underneath her chin, trying to act normal. “Are you sure about that? I called your name three times and you didn’t notice”

“I was thinking,” she answered quickly.

“May I ask what you were thinking about?”

“Science.”

Y/n blinked, staring at Phoebe, waiting for her to continue while Phoebe avoided her eyes at all costs. Deciding to change the subject, she pointed at the spilt coffee, “Do you maybe need help cleaning that or?”

Phoebe glanced at the spilt coffee before standing up and getting some paper towels to clean it up. “Right, right, you’re right”

“Alright then, I’ll go and..do a thing” Y/n said walking backwards before turning around to get ready for the day. “Oh good morning Trevor” and with that she disappeared up the stairs.

Phoebe cursed under her breath, “How much of that did you hear?”

“Oh you mean how much did I hear of your nervous rambling? Pretty much all of it” Trevor says casually, walking closer. “So, you and” he points his fingers behind him. “Ya know”

“There’s nothing going on” Phoebe defends throwing the paper towels away. “Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all”

“Not even a smalllll thing” He pries, making his pointer finger and thumb almost touch. “Not even a small thing” Phoebe shrugs nonchalantly. Trevor nods, letting the silence settle before asking another question. “So, what science thing were you thinking about?”

Phoebe leans on the now clean island again trying to find the words, she sighed “I wasn’t actually thinking about science,”

“Then what?” Trevor interrupted. Phoebe sent him a glare before continuing “I was just thinking about all the things I could teach her today.”

“Y/n you mean?”

Phoebe nodded in response.

“Were you thinking about how close you’re going to be again today?” Trevor questions while picking out an apple from the bowl. Phoebe stood up straight but before she could retort, Trevor interrupted her “Lucky told me all about how close you were yesterday.” He informed Phoebe with a smirk on his face.

Steps were heard coming down the stairs, “We’ll continue this after your little date today” Trevor whispered. “Training” Phoebe corrected.

“Good Morning” Callie greeted, walking over to the coffee machine. “I need to get ready for the day,” Phoebe says, grabbing her pencil and notebook and heading off to her room.

“Did I miss something?” Callie asked her son, pouring herself a coffee in her favourite mug. “Not much” Trevor shrugged, taking a bite out of his apple.

—

The following days were filled with not only bettering y/n’s aim but awkward moments as well, or that’s what Phoebe thought, y/n thought her awkwardness was adorable. Phoebe also learned that Lucky, the traitor, was feeding her brother information daily about her and y/n’s interactions. Specifically the more ‘embarrassing’ ones.

Phoebe crossed her arms thinking, watching y/n put away the proton pack, “I think you’re ready to train with real ghosts”

Y/n turned around “real ghosts?”

“Real ghosts,” Phoebe repeated.

A wide smile appeared on y/n’s face, excitement prominent on her face.

The next day they were driven out to an open area. Trevor and Lucky stayed back in the car while they walked out. “The reason I want you to train with real ghosts before going on missions is so that you’ve trained with more than just a painted ghost made out of wood, some real experience. If anything happens I’ll be right here”

“I brought a few of the traps, they have different ghosts, you'll do one at a time of course. You’ll be the one busting it and I’ll be the one trapping it.” She explained as she put a trap on the ground, putting the foot pedal where they’ll be standing. “Are you ready?”

Y/n nodded confidently, raising the particle thrower, and turning it on.

In the blink of an eye, the ghost trap opened, and a big orange ghost appeared. Y/n cringed slightly at the look of it. When it noticed her she shot right at it, hitting it. She grimaced at the strength that was needed, it’s not as hard as she imagined but it’s not easy either. “Keep going, I'll wait a moment before trapping it, it usually takes a while for us to trap it after we caught it”

No response came back, y/n tried to focus on the ghost, and after a few seconds, the ghost was sucked into the trap.

“Good Job!” Phoebe sent a smile as she picked up the trap, “Oh my arms are going to be so sore tomorrow” y/n groaned.

“That’s the point of training, to improve your skills.” Phoebe reminds, “Oh really? I thought the point of all of this was to torture me” Y/n jokes, panting from what she just had to do. “I'll call it torture and you can call it training. Deal?

Y/n reached out to shake hands, Phoebe glanced at her hand before shaking it. “Alright then, deal.”

“Now this ghost is bigger, you ready?” Phoebe asked, putting a second trap down.

“Ready.” The sound of the proton pack turning on again was heard. A giant ghost appeared. Y/n immediately shot at it, gritting her teeth as she held it back.

“So, a photon is checking into a hotel” Phoebe starts speaking, y/n turns her head to look at her confused. She let out a small yelp as the ghost pulled harder, luckily for her it didn't break free.

“What-”

“Keep going,” Phoebe tells her, “I’ll start again, a photon is checking into a hotel”

Y/n looked back at the ghost, it was a feisty one. “So the bellhop asks, ‘Do you need help with your luggage?’”

Y/n sighed deeply, focusing on the ghost, she shot Phoebe a few glances, ‘Is..she telling a joke right now??’ “Towards that, the photon responds ‘No thanks, I’m travelling light’” She winks at Y/n.

It was silent for a moment until a snort was heard, “alright that one was good” She says snickering, “Please catch it now my arms are hurting” Phoebe did as told, it being sucked into the trap. The sound of the proton pack turning off was heard, and she sighed in relief. “It’s one of my favourite jokes,” she explains picking up the trap. “I can see why, it's good, but why were you telling me jokes right now? Not that I mind.”

“When we’re on missions, there’s always chatter happening between us, maybe some bystanders, and I wanted to test if you could focus while being told a great joke.”

“So does this mean you’ll keep telling jokes during training?” Y/n asks, stretching her head. “Would you consider that a bad thing?”

Y/n looks at Phoebe, who is picking out a new trap, “I don’t think it's a bad thing, I like jokes and puns” she explains, she could feel a warmth creeping up her neck as she admired Phoebe underneath the sunlight. A small smile formed.

‘she’s so pretty’

“Well it’s good you don’t mind since I have many more” Phoebe says preparing for another ghost. Y/n looked away when Phoebe walked over. “Good to hear”

—

“How long do you think it’ll take until they start dating?” Trevor thought for a second before answering Lucky, ”eight maybe nine months max”

“I give it..three weeks, ”

“That’s quick”

“Look at them” Lucky points at the two outside of the car, training. Y/n was laughing after a joke Phoebe made, Phoebe stared at her with a smile, saying something they couldn’t hear from inside the car, but it had to be something funny considering the laughing wasn't stopping. “I bet you five bucks Phoebes using her jokes and unknowingly winning y/n over.”

“Five bucks?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow, “What? Five bucks is a lot in this economy” Lucky shrugged before putting a chip in her mouth.

—

“I think you’re ready to go on your first mission” Phoebe says, breaking the silence while they put away their gear.

“Really?” Y/n asks excitedly, “Yeah, you did very well.” Phoebe smiles softly, “Plus you think my jokes are funny, if you’re with us then it won't be just Gary laughing at them”

“Ah so my sucking up worked” Y/n jokes, “I don’t think that’s what happened, you seemed genuinely happy and were laughing quite a lot,” Phoebe tells her, leaning on the locker. “I am an amazing actor” Y/n explains, Phoebe leans closer so they're face to face, inches away from each other. “Oh no person is that good of an actor, you even turned red from laughing, come on admit it, my jokes are hilarious”

Y/n tried to act casual, a small part of her was happy that Phoebe didn't realise she was blushing because of her back there as well. Y/n hums, pretending to think, before answering “They were alright”

Phoebe raised an eyebrow making y/n put a hand on her mouth to not let a giggle out, “They were alright?”, Phoebe got a nod in return, “you’re lying” Phoebe reasons, “I’m not”

“You are”

“No”

“If you aren’t lying, then there shouldn’t be a smile behind that hand”

Y/N shakes her head, “Come on, remove it” Phoebe teases, she gets another shake of the head as a response, she could see y/n shaking slightly from holding in laughs. “Come on, let me see” Phoebe asks, grabbing Y/ns wrist softly, removing her hand to reveal a wide smile. “So you agree I’m funny.”

“Okay maybe you are” Y/n shrugs, just then realising how close their faces were to each other, her breath hitched, her eyes drifting to Phoebe’s lips for a second before returning to look into her eyes. Her wrist, where Phoebe was holding her felt warm, she resisted the urge to properly hold her hand. “You have a pretty smile” Phoebe whispered, lost in thought. ”It’s all thanks to you, being around you makes me happy” Y/n whispered back.

The only thing they could hear was the sounds of each other's breathing and their own heartbeats. They leaned it close, eyes trained on each other, lips almost touching but before anything could happen they heard the Ectomobile from outside. They pulled away quickly, realising what they almost did blushing.

Callie walked in backwards helping Gary park the Ectomobil. “Oh hey there, how was training?” Callie asked, curious. “It went great,” Phoebe answers, clearing her throat. Callie glanced between them both, noticing the tension, both of them were blushing, Phoebe rubbing the back of her neck and Y/n had her arms crossed, refusing to look at each other. Callie made an ‘oh’ face, realising what might have been happening before they came home.

“I have to go” Y/n says quickly, “so do I” Phoebe responds, they both try to go in the same direction, but they both stop before Y/n ushered Phoebe to go first, walking after her. “Lucky just might win that bet,” Trevor states, him and Gary entering as well. “What bet?” Callie questioned.

“Uhhh nothing” Trevor shrugs walking up to the apartment as well.

Part 2

#phoebe spengler x reader #phoebe spengler #ghostbusters #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters frozen empire

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 19 days

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because this has been on my mind wrapping up the epilogue, here is a little story about how writing fanfiction for very silly sometimes awesome sometimes genuinely terrible SYFY show the magicians changed my life for real.

i started writing help, i’m alive in may 2020. as i have stated many times on this blog, the overarching goal from which this story sprung was my passionate desire to give quentin coldwater each and every last thing he deserved: i wanted to follow him all the way through a downward spiral, and then i wanted to figure out what it would take for him to climb out of the darkness and make it to somewhere he actually wanted to be. the first part of that, the part that became damage control, was some of the easiest writing i’ve ever done, even accounting for the hours spent google mapping the most depressing road trip of all time. the second part was harder, and not just because it wound up being more than four times as long (lmao). it was thornier; there were more threads to weave through; and, frankly, quentin was so fucked up that it took a lot of effort even to outline what it was he needed in order to change. i had written one story already in which the pivot happened entirely internally, an act of self-forgiveness that proved transformational, and i knew that this time i needed to give him more: actual wants, actual actions, an actual life, with actual ties not just to the people already in his circle but to the world beyond. once i had that outline, the first four chapters flowed pretty easily, anchored by the goal of hitting the story’s first big win, which is when quentin finds a way to fix something for the first time since his magic broke; chapter five was where i got stuck.

by that point, it was fall. i had quit my teaching job mid-pandemic with some modest savings, no back-up plan, and a growing realization that after five years in the classroom, teaching was no longer something i could see myself returning to; working obsessively on this story was, among other things, a great way to quiet the constant humming freak-out of what the fuck i was going to do with my life. in october doing some jump squats after sitting in bed all day i threw my back out so badly i couldn’t walk to the bathroom unassisted and paid a hundred dollars to talk to a telehealth doctor for fifteen minutes for some muscle relaxants. the pain sucked, but so did not knowing whether i was going to be better by election day — i’d signed up to be a poll worker, and i really could have used the money.

i’d started dipping my toe in some local volunteer stuff when i quit, but it was during this time that i signed up for the first time for a particular project i was really excited about joining. i did the zoom training with my camera off because my back still hurt too much to sit up; the follow-up involved scanning and emailing some personal documents and signed agreements. i didn’t do it the next day because, whatever, my back fucking hurt; i didn’t do it the day after that because…? and then, well — then i started feeling like i had missed my chance, and it was too late now.

now, here’s the thing: i say feeling like because by this point i had learned enough about the world that i knew — like, knew — that, objectively, taking a few days to send an email (during a pandemic, while i was having previously established health issues) is not considered by most people to be an unforgivable crime. i knew that i should still send the email. and i also had learned enough about myself that i could actually recognize the thing happening in my brain as an example of the kind of overly self-protective mechanisms in which i have many years of practice; i knew by then that i was an absolute expert at finding reasons to not do things that felt like they were based in truth but were really just cleverly disguised manifestations of fear, because if you do things then bad things might happen, but if you don’t do things then nothing bad happens, except that you ruin your own life. i knew all of this!! i could diagnose and analyze exactly how i was once again perpetuating the same anxiety-driven patterns that had governed so much of my life. i was conscious of the workings of my own unconscious. but i still couldn’t bring myself to send the fucking email. instead i was spending 16 hours a day alternately lying in bed and gingerly pacing in my apartment to regain mobility, feeling like shit about the fact that i wasn’t sending the email and also trying fruitlessly to unpack whatever was going on in chapter five.

the election came five days into this mess, and i did feel well enough to go work the polls. this was a great way to experience election 2020, by the way; i had to leave my apartment at like 3:30 in the morning and by the time the returns started coming in i was too delirious to have any emotions about them whatsoever. it was also, not to be a shill for electoral politics, genuinely kind of inspiring: all these people lining up to Do Democracy, the deployment of translators to assist across languages, the columbia undergrad from the neighborhood we were in i was paired with at the info desk who told me he wanted to go into politics and said very seriously, upon hearing i had a friend in the grad school there, “you should tell them to join the union.” plus, you know, the high of doing something, surrounded by other human beings, at a time when that sort of thing had been in short order for the work-from-home crowd for months, and i personally had recently been confined to my bed for several days.

leaving the site that night, entering my twentieth consecutive hour awake, i felt this weird mix of spiritually rejuvenated and psychologically worse. i had just lived through this physical proof of how doing things is both not that scary and kind of awesome, i had spent a day living in alignment with the kind of person i wanted to be, i felt a fresh rush of love for my city and its people — and i still couldn’t imagine sending the fucking email! it was like i was looking at the thing i wanted most through a pane of glass, and the glass was actually really easy to break, so the only thing stopping me was that i was too much of a baby to do it.

and the thought that i had then, i fucking swear, was: i would be such a fucking hypocrite if i wrote quentin coldwater into a happy ending i’m too cowardly to give myself.

which is, first of all: SOOOOOOOO corny, like omg. unbelievably cringe. embarrassing as hell. but it was also my truth at that moment in time. i had no faith in my own ability to change, but i had spent five months and counting thinking about almost nothing else except the story i was writing in which quentin also has no faith in his ability to change but is brave enough to do it anyway, and i really felt like — i could not live with myself putting these ideas out into the world and refusing to integrate them into my own life. i could not write this promise that something better was possible for quentin if i wasn’t even going to try to make it possible for me. i could, apparently, live forever with my constant self-sabotage, but i couldn’t live with myself making this story a lie (this story being, again, fanfiction for a TV show that was, at its best, so great, and also, at its worst, so, SO stupid).

and like… that worked. i emailed the documents the next day; i attended my first monthly zoom meeting that weekend, during which the election was officially called, which felt like a good omen. i summoned the idea that had presented itself to me that night — don’t be a hypocrite! do what you would want quentin to do! — again a while later when my email got lost in the shuffle and i had to send a check-in following up, and again every other time something came up where my fear had to war it out with my desire. (or, well, most other times — it's a work in progress, and yes, i do still find myself calling upon this logic to this day.)

my life now looks more like the happy ending i wrote quentin into than it did almost four years ago, when i started this story, or even three years ago, when i finished it. it looks more like that future than i ever imagined my life could look when i was writing it, and not just because, as i have mentioned before, a few weeks after my election night revelation, i did do as quentin did and befriend a community-minded extrovert who invited me to join a book club. even the fact that the final part of the epilogue has taken me so much longer than expected is a funny case of life imitating art, because while i have had work and illness and travel and general life stress, i have also had many days in the past few months where i was not very productive because i was simply too busy doing something fun — the kind of never-quite-solved balancing act quentin was set to deal with in the epilogue back when i first started kicking it around, well over two years ago at this point, but which was not really applicable to my own life until basically now. and it sounds even to my own ears so, so, so insane to say this, but it’s true: i can trace every aspect of that shift to the fact that i wrote this story, and that writing it fundamentally changed something inside me for the better. (shout-out to the people in the comments who noted that the story was, in a meta sense, my own version of quentin’s coffee maker; i knew you were right, but i don’t think i knew how right until this recent bout of reflection.)

i don't really know that there's a take-away here, because "quit your job and write four hundred thousand words about a weird TV show with a niche audience" is not exactly universally applicable advice. but if i were to try to find one, i think it would be something like: i felt really crazy and kind of embarrassed the entire time i was writing this story, not because i was writing fanfiction, or because it was incredibly horny and wildly self-indulgent, but because it mattered to me so, so deeply. it was one thing to have a fun goofy hobby, even a fun goofy hobby i took semi-seriously and poured a lot of time and effort into, but it was another to actually, like, care, and to care a lot, which i did. but if i hadn't accepted that this story mattered to me, i don't think it could have been as personally transformational as it wound up becoming. the heart wants what it wants, and you're only going to find out what that is if you're willing to listen to whatever rhythm it beats.

i solved chapter five on the way home from the poll site, by the way. i knew there needed to be some problem with quentin’s first semi-successful attempt to mend the coffee maker, but i couldn’t figure out how it tied in thematically with where he was in his life. on the bus it hit me: quentin and the coffee maker were both trying to remain unbreakable. an appealing idea if you’ve been broken, but one more conducive to stagnancy than to growth; you can stay there for a while, but eventually you need to let yourself want more.

#writing tag #the magicians #isabel 2k24

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