#love story and shake it off are staples i think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangersmunsons · 9 months

Text

read 'em and weep

you and Eddie meet at the library. he’s smitten.

Contains: Eddie x Reader, bookworm!reader, lovesick!Eddie, reader gives Eddie book recommendations. No mention of reader’s physical appearance, no use of y/n. Warnings: brief mention of loneliness & negligence in Eddie’s childhood. Word Count: ~2.2k it's my hope to make this a little series! i think eddie is def a bookish guy - no lord of the rings quoting, metal head dungeon master hates reading. he would certainly be open to any fantasy/horror recs you had for him! <3

Indiana. 1989.

Hawkins Library sees a lot of action in the summer.

They offer a wide variety of youth programs to keep the local kids busy and the parents sane while school is out. One of the main events is Saturday Story Time, a beloved weekly staple that you have recently been tasked with putting on.

It’s simple. You gather a number of books, usually with a common theme, and then read a select few to the children who had signed up for the day. Most of the kids in attendance are no older than six or so, with some parents even pulling up chairs to the back so they can sit with infants cradled in their arms. The older ones sit criss-cross-applesauce on carpet squares in front of you, their chubby faces alight with giggles as you recount each silly, fantastical story with all the spirit you can muster.

And then there’s always an accompanying arts and crafts project, of course. If you read The Very Hungry Caterpillar then, naturally, you have to make little googly-eyed caterpillars out of popsicle sticks and colorful pom-poms. You don’t make the rules.

If trouble occurs during Story Time, it’s usually in this phase. (Giving paste to toddlers is always a gamble – you never know what they’re gonna do with that.)

And on this particular morning, it’s been chaos from start to finish. A whopping eighteen kids had signed up, and you stretched yourself pretty thin trying to attend to everyone.

One of the babies spit up directly onto the little girl sitting in front of him and his mother. Someone slipped on their carpet square and fell harshly to the floor, earning a bruised elbow that you gently fussed over. You wrangled a pair of twins who fought bitterly over a bottle of Elmer’s glue. There were three individual running-with-scissors-scares and, finally, you spent a good ten minutes soothing one sobbing child with whom there was nothing apparently wrong with, and that you suspected was just in need of a good cry.

So yeah, it was basically pandemonium.

But eventually, to your great relief, things wound down. The audience dispersed, with their handmade goods clutched in sticky fists, and went to peruse the glossy line of picture books you put out for display. Within the next hour or two, everyone traded the cool darkness of the library for buttery sunshine, and all was quiet again. You waved cheerfully to the last parent-child duo as they made their exit, promising them that there’d be a fun activity next weekend too.

You love these storytime sessions, you really do, but sheesh. Sometimes they run you ragged. With the havoc of the morning finally over, and the promise of lunch in your near future, you try to shake off the weariness, and instead take it upon yourself to clean up the disorganized mess someone’s made of the horror section.

You’re going about your work, tongue poking out in concentration as you strain to reach the really high shelves, when you notice someone standing in your peripheral vision. You turn and glance at him, or at least, what you can see of him. He’s half-hidden by the shelf behind you, but you catch sight of brown hair and denim.

A pale face appears on a craned neck from around the corner. His dark eyes meet yours, widen slightly when he sees that you’ve caught him lurking, and he abruptly disappears again.

You purse your lips to hide your smile. This isn’t uncommon; such moments often occur when you’re cleaning up a section of books someone is hoping to sift through. In a small act of kindness, you move over to the neighboring shelf and look for something to busy yourself with; trying to give the guy a chance to browse without having to ask you to step aside.

He doesn’t emerge. You wait, expecting to sense him passing by you, but no dice. It’s amusing to think that someone might be frightened to approach you (You? Really?) but you can’t help feeling sorry that you were in his way.

The rest of your shift is rather uneventful. At the end of the day, you punch out and head home, the stranger behind the shelf forgotten.

When you come back to work on Monday, it’s much quieter than the last morning you’d been in. You greet your coworkers and set up shop at the front desk, opening up a book of your own to pass the time until someone needed assistance.

You’ve been reading for about half an hour when the big double doors open up for the day’s first visitor, the sound echoing loudly in the silent, spacious room. You look up in interest, ready to greet the person with a warm smile.

“Good morning!” you softly call out as he comes into view. He walks slowly towards you, shoes scuffing the checkered tile with each step. As he comes nearer, you can see that he’s biting his lip, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, the gesture oozing self-consciousness. He only makes eye contact with you for a second before his gaze flits away again.

He’s pretty conspicuous-looking to be approaching the desk with such hesitance, you think. He has dark hair that hangs in slightly-scraggly curls down to his chest, and huge dark eyes. The pale skin of his arms, sticking out from within a denim vest/Judas Priest t-shirt combo, are littered with tattoos.

He pauses a few feet away from you, like he’s debating whether he wants to stop and chat, or to simply veer off towards the bookshelves and start browsing. Ultimately he decides to shuffle forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Hi there. What can I do for you?” you ask, voice gentle but encouraging.

He looks down and rests a hand on the desk, absentmindedly tracing the wood pattern with his thumb. “Um, yes.” He doesn’t offer anything else.

There’s a pregnant pause, both of you digesting the fact that what you had asked was not a yes or no question.

He tries again. “I…am in need…of some new reading material.”

You nod gravely, expression serious. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Did you have anything specific in mind?”

He begins to rock lightly back and forth on his feet, contemplating. “I like fantasy, especially Tolkien. I read a lot of horror, too, and sometimes sci-fi. If you had any suggestions for me, that’d be great.”

“Oh, we can certainly find you something,” you reassure him, already flipping through a mental rolodex of your favorite books in those genres. “Here, come with me.”

You stand and move around the desk to meet him, beckoning for him to follow.

Eddie watches you run a delicate hand over the spines of the books, keenly aware of the clammy sweat that’s flooding his own palms. Be cool, Munson.

“So,” you begin, a gleam of excitement in your eyes, “you like fantasy. Do you read Le Guin?”

Eddie nods eagerly, hair bouncing slightly with the movement. “Oh yeah, I’ve read the Earthsea trilogy.”

“Have you read any of The Hainish Cycle books?”

“I haven’t read those ones, no.”

You pull out two slim paperbacks from the row, holding each one out for him so he can study the covers. “These ones are science fiction, and they’re pretty good. You might like Rocannon’s World since it’s similar to a fantasy novel, but personally I think Left Hand of Darkness is the best.” You suddenly pause, and look around furtively, like you were checking to make sure that you two are really alone. You even put a hand up to the side of your mouth, as though shielding the conversation from eavesdroppers.

“Honestly,” you lower your voice like you’re admitting something scandalous, “I even liked it better than Earthsea.”

“No!” Eddie immediately matches your whispered, gossipy tone and lets his jaw drop, pretending to be aghast.

“Yes!” you insist, seemingly delighted by his willingness to play along. Eddie’s heart soars.

“I guess I can’t refute that until I read it, huh? What’s it about?” he asked, taking it from your hand.

“An envoy is visiting this frozen alien planet, and he’s trying to convince them to join this intergalactic coalition that he represents, but they’re making it like, really difficult for him. Also, gender doesn’t exist, and there’s political turmoil stemming from border disputes.”

“...oh. Cool.”

The next half-hour passes in this fashion. Your soft, mild demeanor is aglow with enthusiasm as you pull out book after book, giving him an off-the-cuff elevator pitch for each. Eddie can practically feel the cartoon hearts swirling around his head, bright pink and red bubbles that are almost certainly going to appear out of thin air and give him away.

He can’t put his finger on what it is, precisely, that’s pulling him in so deeply, drawing him towards you like a magnet with an opposite pole. Maybe it’s the tender way you talk about each book, the love and care that’s so tangible in your sweet voice, the way you speak about them as though they’re your old friends. Perhaps they are.

It’s not an unfamiliar concept to Eddie. A childhood steeped in loneliness and poverty, instability and dysfunction, neglect from his volatile and unreliable parents…yeah, he gets it. The wanting, the longing, the dire need to escape to someplace that doesn’t exist, some place where things were better and didn’t hurt, a dreamworld that would be kinder to a scrawny little boy with unwashed hair and a mean father.

The closest he ever came to it was when he lost himself between the yellowed and dog-eared pages of the few, precious books he owned.

So he listens to you chatter away with chest-aching tenderness, already thinking that he could listen to you like this for hours and be glad for it.

“You love fantasy, but you’ve never read The Last Unicorn?”

Eddie gives you an apologetic half-shrug, no longer able to keep the goofy, besotted grin from unfurling across his face. “Never got around to it, I guess.”

“It makes me cry. You have to take it,” you tell him with pleading eyes, adding it to the top of the growing pile in his arms before he can refuse. Not that he ever would. How could he, when you look at him like that?

“You cry at this one, really?” He looks curiously at the artwork on the front, an innocent picture of the pale horned creature. “But it’s so unassuming…”

“Don’t be fooled, it’ll get you. Take it,” you repeat.

Eddie shifts the stack of books to cradle it in one arm, so he can raise the other at you in a salute. “Yes, ma’am. And when I’m finished with it, I’ll give you a full report on the emotional damage it caused me.”

This makes you giggle, lips turned up in a gorgeous smile, and Eddie knows he’s a goner.

Back at the front, you resume your previous positions at the desk. Him in front and you behind, this time separated by a short pile of books.

You hold your hand out. “Card, please, sir.” Polite and professional, but with a little sparkle in your eye that lets Eddie hope for a moment that his time with you this morning was more pleasure than business.

He fumbles with his wallet, slipping out his library card and slotting it between his index and middle fingers, extending it for you to take. His chunky silver rings catch the light.

You accept the offering. “Thank you” – you quickly read the messy signature at the bottom – “Edward.” You look back at him with a grin.

He cringes, face scrunching in embarrassment. “Oh God. Call me Eddie, please.”

The scanner gives a little chirp! as you begin the checkout process, nodding. “Will do, Eddie.” His name sounds like a song when you say it, one he never wants to stop listening to.

You finish scanning his books, and slide a receipt into the jacket of the novel on top (which just so happens to be Katherine Dunn’s Geek Love). Instead of sliding the stack towards him, you keep both hands clasped on the cover, hesitating. You bite your lip, an unconscious imitation of himself earlier. “Listen….”

Eddie straightens up a little, stomach flipping like a coin. “Yeah?”

You bow your head. “I’m sorry if I talked too much. It’s just – most people who come in don’t actually ask me for recommendations, and I got excited,” you admit quietly, looking sheepish.

“Don’t apologize,” Eddie says without missing a beat. “I appreciate it. I really enjoyed it, actually,” he adds, eager to quell your anxiety. “I liked talking with you.” More than you know.

“O-oh,” you stutter, taken aback. “I liked talking with you, too.”

Eddie nods, smiling slightly. “Would you like to…talk again?” He flushes scarlet and coughs. Smooth. “I just mean, when I finish these” – he motions towards the day’s finds – “we have to discuss them, right? You helped me pick ‘em out, after all.”

“Of course. You have to let me know what you think.”

His smile gets bigger. “So we’ll reconvene?”

“We’ll reconvene,” you chuckle.

“Awesome. Looking forward to it.” He sweeps up his books, and gives you a little wave. “Thanks again, sweetheart. I’ll see you soon.”

And he can hardly wait. It looks like he’s got a lot of reading to do…

thanks for reading!!! <3 edit: this is now a series! Read Ch. 2-> Here!

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x bookworm!reader #stranger things fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

chronicbeans · 1 year

Text

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 11)

Looks like we are getting close to the end. Idk how many more parts there will be but I, for once, gotta plan in mind! Yippee!

TW: Obsessive Behavior, Idol Worshipping, Interrogation, Derealization, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Threats

🎥 You have waited a couple days for this. You wanted to make sure that Henry was alright after what happened. Currently, he and his uncle are out, picking Angela up from the hospital. No one is home, so it is the perfect time for this.

🎥 You place Wally down on your bed, before placing two heavy books on the extra blanket hanging off of the ends of the knot you tied to heep him down. He squirms, looking up at you with the most fearful eyes you have ever seen... on a puppet, at least. Nothing could ever beat the fear you saw in the eyes of Eddie's puppeteer when they handed you the box holding this cursed puppet.

🎥 Speaking of, the puppet opens its mouth, crying out "Let me go! I'm sorry! I didn't hurt her! I think I just spooked her... she tripped on her own!" You shake your head "I don't really care about whether or not you did or didn't do that... Because, even if you didn't, you still hurt people! What about the person YOU filled with staples? Or the one you dropped a bucket of paint on, cracking their head open?! Or these cursed notes and drawings you kept sending me?! You still did damage to people, including me! I have been going insane from fear because of you!"

🎥 His eyes widen more so than they already were. He grows silent, looking around. He begins to mutter "No... no no no... I never meant to... I never meant to hurt YOU!" He then looks you straight in the eyes, the most intense stare held within his own. His pupils seem to expand until they overtake the entirety of his large eyes. "I NEED YOU. I would never hurt you willingly! I thought the notes were lovely! The drawings, too! Isn't it nice to know that your most faithful puppet is watching over you? The paint guy was being mean to you! He deserved it! I even warned him before I did it. I always saw the other guy with Eddie, so I thought it would be fitting if he delivered mail to you! See? I put so much thought into it all so it would be perfect! I love you! I am so sorry you didn't see what I meant to get across..."

🎥 You take a step back, placing your hands on your hips "Oh, you got your message across, alright. I know you love me. You love me too much. You love me to a dangerous degree and you clearly are willing to harm people for the smallest of reasons. I know the boss will probably fire me for this, but I think it would be best if I just burned you-"

🎥"NO! NO, DON'T DO THAT! I mean-!" He looks over to the clock in your room, before saying "I mean... can we... can we have one last round on set? Whatever story you want, you can tell! You can make me do anything you like! I don't care... I can clearly see that I deserve it... I caused so much damage. If you want me burned, I can't stop you. I am your puppet. You are in control, right? Just one more little story. For me? For your good, friendly neighbor?"

🎥 You feel... uncomfortable. However, you think about it for a bit. The studio is far from most other people and since Wally can talk, he can probably scream. It would be... concerning, to say the least, if your neighbors saw you burning a screaming, flailing thing that looked vaguely like a person. So, it might be for the best that you go through with his wishes. "Alright. You want one more story? You will get one more story. You better not double-cross me, though."

🎥 Wally nods, a his permanent grin widening. "Don't worry. I won't. As I said, I would never hurt you intentionally. Let's go! Now! I wanna go now!" You untie him, before slinging him over your shoulder and placing him in your car. You drive to the studio, listening to Wally talking about how much he can't wait to see Barnaby, Julie, and all the others. You tune him out, focusing entirely on the road and your destination.

🎥 You arrive, parking your car and hopping out. You grab Wally, before reaching into the glove box and taking out your emergency key to the studio. You really don't understand why the boss gives everyone a key. Apparently it is so they can have someone open the door if they lose their own? You don't really care, though. All you care about is finishing whatever this puppet has started.

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

591 notes · View notes

musings-of-a-rose · 4 months

Text

Prepping for Parents

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 680+

Rating: This is fluffy and for everyone, but my blog is rated Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This was for the @pickled-pena writing challenge! Check it out here, but the specs are in the moodboard.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“Ok..I think I have everything for the natilla. We’ll have to stop at the bakery to grab the buñuelos on the way back home…” I scan my grocery list, making sure to check items off with the pencil I have stuck behind my ear. In the corner of my eye, I see Javier nervously shifting from foot to foot, his hands on his hips as he chews at his lip. “Are you ok, Jav?”

“Hhmm?” His dark eyes meet mine and I swear I melt a little every time he looks at me. “Yeah. I’m great.”

“You’re about to chew a hole through your lip.”

He puffs his lips out, putting his hands up as if to say “Better?” I lean in and kiss his puffy lips, feeling him relax slightly. I pull back and look up at him. “Really. What’s up?”

He shakes his head but isn’t able to contain his thoughts anymore. “Your parents are coming in tonight, our first meeting, and you’ve done all of the cleaning, made sure the hotel is taken care of, made a menu of what we’re having, and you’re picking out all of the food. I just-” he sighs “-can’t I do something?”

“Jav, you don’t have to do anything. You’re here with me and that means so much, especially with all of the work you’ve been doing lately.”

He nods. “Yeah, but I would like to contribute something.”

I can see this is important to him, that he wants to do something for my parents and it makes my heart swell.

“Do you know what a relish dish is?”

He thinks a moment. “Pickles and olives and shit?”

I chuckle slightly. “Yeah, basically. It’s a big staple at all of our dinners. Mom and dad are pretty particular. Can you go pick out some things for it?”

His eyebrows raise, nearly disappearing into his hairline. “You would trust me with it?”

“Just don’t put actual shit on the plate and I think you’ll be fine.”

He nods and takes off while I finish out my list. About 10 minutes later, he finds me picking up a bag of milk, which I nearly drop when I see that he’s carrying at least 12 jars of things. “What…what’s all this, Jav?”

He’s struggling slightly, trying not to drop them as he attempts to gently set them in the cart. “Well, I couldn’t settle on just a few things. These?” He holds up a jar of pickles. “Are dill. But maybe they like sweet so..” He holds up another jar. Jar after jar of pickles and olives and peppers, a slew of varieties, some I’d never seen before as he puts them in the cart. When he’s done, he brushes his hands together and looks at me, his eyes big like a puppy.

“Do you think it will be enough?”

I laugh then, my whole chest bouncing with it. “Jav, you got way too much. It’s just the 4 of us.”

"You stand there and accuse me of getting too much but where were you at the time? I don't know what everyone likes and..." he mumbles something, but I can’t quite hear him, my eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What?”

He crosses his arms, his eyes not quite meeting mine as he leans in, speaking quietly. “I just want them to like me.”

“Oh, Javier. They’re coming all the way to Colombia for Christmas just to meet you. Trust me, they wouldn’t have made all of this effort if they didn’t like you. And besides-” I put a finger under his chin and tilt him to look at me “- I love you. There’s no way they won’t.”

His eyes soften and the corners of his mouth twitch slightly with a smile. “I love you too, querida.” He kisses me, soft lips and bristly mustache tickling at my skin before pulling back. “But this is stressing me out.” He kisses the top of my head before patting down his pockets and sliding out a pack of cigarettes. I let out a huff of disapproval when he fishes out his lighter.

“I thought you said you were quitting?”

He puts a cigarette in his mouth as he turns to walk to towards the door. “It will be my resolution, I promise querida.”

Author’s Notes: Natilla is a sweet custard that’s traditionally served during Christmas in Colombia. There’s many variations on it, but here’s one with coconut. Buñuelos are like a sweetish bread made with cheese, corn starch, and yuca flower that’s typically round/ball shaped and are pictured with the link I added with natilla. I could eat my weight in buñuelos. And yes, they have bagged milk in Colombia, I’ve seen it with my own eyes!

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21@gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

98 notes · View notes

broooooo · 1 year

Text

(writing this first story of mine, for me specifically, to experience my own fantasy)

My name's aaron

Im in my 3rd year of highschool, I'm 19 years old, long hair, ace, nothing going for myself, not exactly bullied, not exactly popular, just Invisible most of the time, sitting alone and watching the masses, Im not a fan of school either, math can suck ass, and everything else is annoying, for years I look upon the popular seniors, all so hot, all so popular, when ever I was noticed, they would talk to me , they are so kind, the jocks in the group are nice to, although they are very horny, since I'm older, I never played sports, I was a protected child, but I always fantasize about playing football, to be a jock, iv loved the look of muscles, cleats, beer, iv jacked off to many pictures, to fuel my insecurities, maybe one day I could fit in, oh how I wish to be one of them

I said this under my breath, just so I could hear it, to calm me , I sigh and go back to listening to music to wait for my next clas

Without me knowing it, one of the jocks (Jason) ended up vaguely hearing me from close by, mostly the part about I wish I could be a jock, muscles , beer...,

He has a blank but grinning smirk, he gathers his other jock bros and rushes to coach, coach is an eccentric man, large muscles and gym lesson workouts that leave the students in pain for days.

Jason tells coach about what he heard , coach has a evil grin with his hand rubbing together,

"jason- bring him... to me"

"yes coach"

While I wait for my next class, listening to music, I see Jason and his buddies come up to me, I'm kinda shocked and happy someone acknowledged me, wonder what they want

I look up at Jason making eye contact.

"What up Aaron, my bro, coach would like to see you*

I'm visibly confused

"me? Why?"

"nothing bad, your gonna like this"

" eh, ok, what's the worst that can happen"

"ALL RIGHT LETS GOO" jason and his buddies are cheering,

In my head I think, why are they so happy xd, I wonder what could be happening, I hope Its nothing about how I skipped gym class last week,

I enter coaches office-

I say - " yes coach, you wanted to see me?"

-" yes I did, come sit over hear"

I sit across from him, taking note of the musk in the room, an intoxicating smell to say the least.

We make eye contact

"soo Aaron, I hear you want to be a jock"

Shock runs through me,

"wait what?, But how?"

"my boy Jason told me, a friend of yours I asume?"

"well I wouldn't say "friend" but we have talked in the past"

My heart's racing , breathing faster, the smell in the air ain't helping either, but I am getting hard under my trousers.

In coaches mind" don't worry my boy, Jason and the others will soon be your best BRO'S"

"now what do you say Aaron?, Want to join us?, To become a jock, I can teach you everything like your my son"

I'm a little scared, but also excited, like what the fuck is going on rn?

"umm .. y yeah , sure, I wouldn't mind coach..."

Coach smiles,

"well answered, hear, for starters, drink this son"

Son?, He hands me a can of beer,

"go on, drink, it's a staple jock drink"

Shaking, I click open the can and start of sip , gulp , and then slowly down the drink,

"how do u feal Aaron, anything different?"

"well idk, besides me being hard as a rock and sweating hard, maybe a little tipsy, I don't drink all that often_ I start to drool a little

In coaches mind he says ( well it's sure working fast I'd say, he wants this, so there's no resistance, soon he will be drinking all the time), coach smirks

"Well come with me son, leave your things, you won't be needing them, and don't worry about your next classes, iv got you covered"

I leave my jacket, and bag behind, as I get up, I feel dizzy, but a happy dizzy, Jason takes hold of me

" you good lil bro?, Don't worry, things will bet better"

lil bro ? I think, hah,sounds cool

"yeah thanks Jason, I owe you... Big bro"

Jason smiles ,

He's my big bro hehe, drool keeps coming from my lips, my head is dizzy

I'm moved into the locker room, coach orders Jason to put me down on one of the benches facing a TV, usually used to watch the game

"Jason, help Aaron undress"

"yes coach"

I become undressed, my top, my trousers, my boxers are soaked in pre ,and my hard cock is a sight to see,

Drool keeps coming

"Alright Jason, sit next to him, while I set this up"

Jason and his bros sit next to me ..

A video starts to play, Jason holding me up, as I stare at the screan.

Jason Whispers into my ear" don't worry lil bro, master coach and I hear for you" with a big dumb smile,

I continue to drool in a dazed state, my cock rock hard and leaking a fountain of pre

I stare at the video

Coach comes out of the back with a football kit, cleats, jock strap, pads, and a helmet,

"now stare Aaron, stare, become who you wish to be me, who's your meant to be,

A dumb jock"

I , Jason and the bros start to laugh, as we all stare at the screen, we are all hard, but I'm the most affected, seems they have been through this already,

"what do u wish you Aaron?"

Slobly I say

"dumb... Jock.... To becum...beer..... Bros.... Muscles ...... Football..... Wish.... I am dum , I obsy, I .... I must obey, .... I jock bro.... Bro.... Cum."

Coach grins- "good boy, now who do you obey?"

"i..,..I obay....yoouoou.... ... Master coach"

"and what are you?"

"a... Dumbbro... Jock..."

"good boy my son, we are almost done here, stand up boy, don't look away from the screen

I sand up, my bro Jason holding me steady

Coach then dresses me up in the kit, all soaked in something that soon my skin soaks up

It's all too big for me, but then,

My muscles are , my body, they are growing, my stomach hardens into 6 pack abs, my triceps and bi ceps , my arms are inflating and hardening with pure muscle, my hands beef up with hardened fingers from years in the gym and the field, my neck thickens and chest widens with huge hard nipples, my legs thicken and elongate , tree trunk muscle legs form, my feet expand, grow , while my hardened dick, grows longer, harder, leaking even more, a 12 inch monster , my body start to stink,

The kit starts to fit against me, tight, the cleats feel snug and the gloves give energy, my body fully soaked the liquid from before , coach stands back holding the helmet

"good boy Aaron, now recite the screens words, submit to me, to your new life

My thoughts are changing, my memory fading, changing, I recite the screens words..

"I am a jock,

I am a jock, I am a jock

I am a bro, a jock, a dumb

A dumb jock bro, football

I must obey coach, I am a jock, football jock , I m obedient, I am dumb , I am a bro , I am A dumb

Football jock...."

"who do you obey"

"I obey you coach"

With that, coach places the helmet on my head

My mind stops, I go blank, my memories reshape,

I am a dumb jock, I am a bro, quarterback of the team, Jason and the other bros have been my bros for years, we love sucking each others dicks, no homo bro, only us men know how to to work a dick, better than any chick,, Jason is my big bro, we workout, we get drunk together,, we obey

We obey master coach

Coach then pays attention to my hard leaking jock, were all my old memories are in the lemon sizes ball churning with new jock cum

"sit down boy" I sit down to coaches orders, Jason and others relax against me, we are all about to burst

Coach starts to jack me off, I start to grunt in a deep voice.

"good... Good boy Aaron , good jock boy , relax, let it sink in, you are dumb jock my son, your dreams have been fulfilled, who do you thank?"

" I thank you coach"

" good boy... Now CUM"

We all moan and grunt as cum, CUM , rods of cum shoot out all over us, puddles of cum stain our Kits, the walls, the bench, some got on to coach , he licks it off of him.

Coach lets go of my cum covered dick, and pushes it back into the cup jock strap, then tightens the tight football leggings to complete it

My huge muscled body sits,against the wall,

"stand up Aaron my son"

My head starts to clear, thinking only of beer, cock, coach football, the bros, football.... . muscles. Working out... Beer..

Me , Jason and my bros stand up

"yes coach? My dick still hard , ready for more , very horny

" we are gonna do some training for the game, Jason and the others , go, your bro Aaron needs his picture taken for the year book.

"Yes coach!, Hehe, welcome to the team lil bro, we'll be waiting outside , Jason bro bumps my back,

_" see you there big bro"

"stand over hear Aaron my son"

"yes coach"

Click, the pictures are taken

As the flashing light fades, my dick explodes once again, cum pooling in the jock cup,

I am a dum football jock.

" run off to practice boy, ill meet the team there,

"YES COACH"

I run to the field, my loud steps echoing

Coach takes one last pic of me on the field, to commemorate this special day,

"soon he will be bringing others to me.

So happy to make Aaron's dreams come true"

Coach runs to the field, proud , ready to get us to the championship games

" ALRIGHT BOYS, 6 laps, GO, there's beers waiting for ya"

____________________________

The end, ahhhh , the dream... Atleast I made it come true in writing xd

If anyone sees this, what do you think?

I sure enjoyed my first story

565 notes · View notes

hallowpen · 2 months

Text

The plan was to start watching The Sign by divvying up the series into two episodes per day until I could finish. Well…that plan went completely out the window and I ended up binge watching the entire thing in one go. So, as I try to gather my thoughts, I wanted to sort of get my feelings out there on what I thought was an incredible show before I finally unfilter the tags (as to avoid any outside influence on my opinion).

Let me preface this by saying that this is going to be an incredibly bias opinion given my cultural upbringing and background (I'm half-Thai and I've spent almost half of my life living in Thailand), so please take that into account before reading any further. I metaphorically removed my western-lensed glasses while watching this series and preferred to watch as a Thai viewer, which probably made the more confusing or difficult parts of the show a lot easier to swallow. So, yes, I will admit that the show was not perfect by any means, but I was able to overlook a lot of its shortcomings given the parts that had been done so well and what this series could mean for Thai QL media going forward.

My goddess, where do I even start…

I'm a sucker for the reincarnated/fated lovers trope, so the show had me before it even started. What I absolutely loved the most about the romance and the A+ chemistry was that it didn't dominate or singularly drive the story, which was refreshing to see. It gave room to explore the fantasy/mythological elements of the show, the investigatory plotlines (which we'll get to later), and the relationships of the characters surrounding the "main leads".

Episode 3, my beloved, was what solidified my trust in this series and served as the foundation for the personalized experience I curated in my continued viewing. First off (and a bit of a side note), seeing Yoshi show up as Sand just made my heart super happy. I've been following her off and on since 2018, and she was one of the only things I actually liked about หมอ มือ ใหม่… but I digress. Behind the main story (and maybe even because of it), this episode was, for all intents and purposes, a love letter to Thai culture and its religious mythology. Which, when you consider how much international draw a BL series can hold, is truly momentous. International viewers got to experience the Bang Fai Phayanak (the naga fireball festival) that occurs every Wan Ok Phansa (the last day of what is considered Buddhist Lent) and the significance it holds over Thai history and culture. Using this as the stepping stone to establish the importance of the series' reliance on naga folklore…brilliant! The episode was also the viewers' introduction to the Buddhist idea of the cyclical intermingling of karmic fates. How the implications of an interdependence on one fate more than the others would later define the relationship between Phaya, Tharn, and Chalothorn…genius! All of this!? In one episode…of a BL!? I was overwhelmed by a sense of cultural gratitude and pride, that I still can't quite shake. I think Saint knew exactly what he was doing when he chose to adapt this series and I love him even more for it.

Aside from the cultural dependency and relevance, the show delivered so much beyond that as well. The production quality sailed high above previous BL standards and, in turn, lent itself to beautiful visuals and cinematography.

The casting! Billy and Babe's chemistry was just so *chef's kiss*. I knew Billy would absolutely smash it in the role of Phaya, but I often forgot that this was Babe's first ever acting role. It was an undertaking, that you could tell, he did not take lightly. Heng!? Wow! What a performance! He's been a staple in every Idol Factory series thus far, but he really nailed the purely villainous role of Chalothorn. Gap as Yai? No notes. He was able to flesh out what could have been a very one-dimensional character. Tack and Poom as Khem and Thongtai were a welcome levity inbetween, what was otherwise, a more weighty plot.

If I had to address any gripes I had with the series, there were only two that really stood out:

1) I wish the moments/conversations between Tharn and Chalothorn that eventually led to Tharn's return hadn't happened off-screen. There was a lot left to be resolved that could have been explored in that instance. But using my own inference based on Tharn as a character, his relationship with Chalothorn, and the core of his personality, I could kind of piece together how that ending came to be.

2)The lesser intriguing elements of the investigation storylines were shaky, at best. (If you were looking for the show to have a firm western-influenced ACAB agenda, then I'm sorry to say you were setting yourself up for disappointment. As much as I selfishly wanted it to be, this series was never going to be that show, it's a Thai drama.) From a Thai perspective, it made sense that the "copaganda" aspect of the series focused on the incompetency and inefficiency of a police force where justice is often informed by wealth and greed. I got an idea of what the show's stance on the matter was supposed to be but the overall plot and its consistency got lost somewhere within the final execution.

Other than that, I was left feeling satisfyingly content with where the series landed and I will continue to highly recommend it. It's easily one on my top five favorite Thai BL dramas and just Thai dramas in general! And…

There is such a rich history of mythology and folklore left for the show to still sink its teeth into: the garuda of it all, the pre-existing feud between the naga and garuda and why that is… Aside from a few minor specificities that were missing from naga folklore (their exclusion didn't really detract from anything, but it could have served to benefit non-Thai viewers), all of that could be addressed in a second season. Which, at this point, seems pretty likely 🤞🏾🤞🏾🤞🏾 and would be HUGE in the BL world.

PLEASE, LET IT HAPPEN! 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

#the sign #the sign the series #thai culture #thai mythology #thai bl #i've had a very productive unproductive 12 hrs #i need sleep #i need to catch up on work #i formally apologize to my followers who are about to be flooded with 'the sign' content #i'm excited to finally get to see all the fan creations and gifs #😊😊😊#koda watches bl

50 notes · View notes

anitabighug · 1 year

Text

❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿

Chapter Masterpost: [ ♡ ♡ ♡ ]

Chapter Nine; The Love Potion

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● It had been a few days since the incident, and with the help of your dear friends, you’ve made a full recovery. It helped to have a project to work on. Made you feel like you were helping, too, if even in a small way. You’d memorised all the lines in the script at this point. It was a cute story that the two girls had written, and you were excited to be a part of it. There were only three parts; A Knight, A Princess, and a Witch. Well, four parts, if you counted the brief cameo of Howdy in a dragon costume. You were the witch, who captured the beautiful princess, wanting to marry her and take her kingdom’s magic for yourself. You thought it funny; the plot went in such a different direction than you were expecting. You wondered who was playing the other parts, but Sally was pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing. Weird, considering that the princess was probably Julie anyways. The knight, though… You bite on the end of the highlighter you’re holding, out like a light in full daydreaming mode. If it had been hard to keep him off your mind before, now it was downright impossible. A shiny knight costume, with broad shoulders… He lifts the front of his helmet to look down at you, grinning broadly… You let out a delirious giggle. Ah! Snap out of it! You shake the thoughts out of your head, and hug the script close. You need to focus! You set the duotang folder to the side, laying the highlighter on top of it, before turning back to your other project; Your costume! You had a darker dress laying around, though it was probably froofier than Sally had in mind. The real tricky part was the hat. You’d sketched up a diagram that probably would’ve worked better for building a machine than sewing a hat. Which was the real problem. You didn’t really have any idea how to sew– but it couldn’t be THAT hard. It was just string and fabric. This wasn’t going to beat you. You manage to finish with about an hour to spare, letting out a sigh of relief. You weren’t the best with this, you’d admit. You ended up forgoing the thread altogether, deciding (poorly) that staples would be much stronger anyways, getting frustrated when it (obviously) ended up absolutely hideous. It was, however, a triangle with a brim. You could work with this. You sacrificed a purple feather boa, hot glueing it around the brim, and decorating it with little foam stars you’d cut out yourself. There, like there was nothing wrong with it! After changing and gathering your props, you resign yourself to a short rest in your armchair, but a knocking at the door surprises you. Does no one in this neighbourhood know how to use a phone? Opening it up, you find Julie and Frank on your doorstep. Frank is staring down at the floor, cheeks dark, and drumming his fingers on his sides nervously. Julie… Julie looks sour. This might be the maddest you’d ever seen her. Before you can ask what's wrong, Julie shoves Frank forwards, “Daisy! Frank has something he wants to say to you!” She announces with all the authority of a grade school teacher. He gulps loudly. You tilt your head in confusion; What could Frank possibly have done wrong??? “... Daisy, I…” He takes in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “... I am very ashamed. You see, the other day, I…” He hesitates. Julie taps her foot impatiently. “I came to visit, I was quite interested when you said I should look more into moths, you see. Your door was wide open, and I… Well, I was looking for you, and I… I found your notebook on the movement of celestial bodies. I was curious, and I didn’t think you would mind, so I borrowed it, and…” He winced. Julie has pursed her lips. “Tell her!” She demands, her tone surprising even you. “... I’m afraid I’ve lost it. I believed I was taking good care of it, and fully intended to bring it back, but it has vanished without a trace.” You frown. Honestly, Frank borrowing your stuff wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but something about that particular notebook vanishing left a nasty feeling in your stomach. You felt like you were missing something important… You look up to see Frank shuddering. Oh, right, you should probably say something. Your expression softens, and you step forwards, giving him a big hug, “It's okay, Frank. You didn’t mean to, and I understand. Curiosity is the hardest thing to ignore.” You smile against him. You couldn’t possibly be mad at him; he was the only one who understood you in your ultimate quest for science! You hear a loud gross sniffle come from him, and a relieved sigh from Julie. “Thank you for telling me. I know that was hard.” After calming Frank down from his intense emotions, You gather your things, and close your door. “Julie, I’m not sure I get it; is that your costume?” You ask. Julie is in her usual outfit, very pretty but not really screaming ‘princess’. She looks at you as if you’re crazy. You laugh nervously. You really should stop assuming things about your friends. “Oh, sorry. I just thought… Well, you’re very princessy, I thought you were…” “Nope! I was the author! The genius behind the scenes!!!” She grinned, and gave an excited wiggle, “I wanted to sit and watch my vision come to life!!! Besides, Sally found a WAY better Princess.” ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● The breath escapes your lungs when you see him. Why did he even have that? The cast, plus Sally, stand backstage to prepare the last bits and give your friends some time to find their seats. Eddie has made a surprisingly robust set of armour out of cardboard, with a flippable hood and everything. It's painted light blue, with pink trim and accents, and a few stamps stuck on the chestplate for good luck. That solved one mystery, but the solution for the other left your brain melted. Wally has a sparkling circlet resting under his pompadour, his cheeks have blush carefully applied, and he strides over to the group with absolutely limitless confidence. Not that it wasn’t warranted; your jaw certainly dropped when you saw him. His gown looks expensive, with tight sleeves that landed directly at his wrists, a cold shoulder so chilly you feared winter would come early, and a train so long you were worried you would trip on it during the show. The whole thing was pulled together with delicate floral lace in a dark blue similar to the sweaters he often wore. The skirt was excruciatingly shorter in the front, and he had a pair of matching intricate pants underneath, along with a lovely pair of boots with trim similar to the dress. You grab Sally’s arm, and scurry off to the side, cheeks ablaze, “Wally? The princess is Wally??” “Well, yeah, duh! He is the prettiest person in the neighbourhood,” Sally replied bluntly. The two of you look back at him. Eddie is ooh-ing and ahh-ing over his craftsmanship, and Wally is absolutely eating up the attention. “And honestly, he really does have the legs for it; check out those boots!” “Sally, he looks amazing, that is not the issue and you know it is not the issue.” You tell her, deadly serious, gripping the straps of her overalls. “Boys can be perfectly good princesses!” “Sally. That is not. The issue.” You stare into her eyes. “The issue is, you wrote a… A….” Your face flushes. It was FINE when it was Julie playing the Princess, but with Wally…! Sally is smirking down at you. You narrow your eyes. “... Traitor.” It was far too late to back out now. The show must go on. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● “Once upon a time, in a land far away, There lived a beaaauutiful Princess!” Sally announced, and gave a bow as Wally strolled onto the stage, giving a regal wave to the audience. The group cheered, and one of them even wolf whistled. He was THRIVING. “The beautiful princess lived in his palace, overlooking his beautiful kingdom, upon which the sun shone every day!” “My kingdom is so beautiful!” Wally raised a delicate hand to his head, “But alas! It is so lonely sitting upon my throne. I have cast this spell for eternal sunshine, but my people! They have no more problems, and do not visit me anymore! Everything is just TOO perfect!” He places his arm over his eyes dramatically, flopping back onto the armchair that had been pulled into the stage area. “What the beautiful princess did not know, however, was that there was a much bigger problem approaching!!!” Sally wiggled her arms in the direction of the other half of the stage. Oh! Right, that was your cue! A couple of cardboard rainclouds hung on your side of the stage, and you stepped out, raising your broom to the sky, “The evil witch was watching the kingdom, envious of it’s sun shiny days!” “I will kidnap the princess, and bring her to my bog!” You announce stiffly, “Soon! Mark my words! We will be wed, and I will have the sun shiny magic for my own!” You raise your hands in the air for dramatic effect, emphasizing your weak villain laugh, “Mua! Ha Ha! Ha ha!” You can hear Barnaby absolutely losing his mind in the audience. Yeah, yuk it up, pup! You’re gonna be a star whether your acting skills like it or not! “The evil witch had an equally evil plan! She made a wicked brew, threatening to put the princess to sleep for a thousand years!” You loved this part. You scurried backstage, returning with a rolling table with some of your favourite flasks and beakers set up atop it. You raise a jar of blue liquid to the sky, giving it a swirl. Then, you raise a second cup, this time yellow, and let out another villain laugh. You pour the second up into the first, and Sally ‘Oooooh’s for dramatic effect. The blue liquid turns pink and sparkly in the jar, and you cap it, giving it another swirl, “With this magic potion! I, The Evil Witch, will finally get what I desire! Mua! Ha! Ha!” You give a toss of your capelet, and march the table off stage. The scene returns to Princess Wally, sitting atop his throne, boredly playing with a bit of his hair. “Beautiful Princess!” You burst out from behind the throne, and Wally lets out a surprised gasp, “Your time has come! Marry me, and give me your magic powers, or a curse I will cast upon you!” You slam the jar on the arm of the chair. There is a beat of silence. “Okay.” Wally grins at you. “... What?” “I will marry you, evil witch!” He claps his hands together cheerfully, and lets out a dreamy sigh, “It will be a spring wedding! I’ll never be lonely again!” “No! You are supposed to scream! Cry!! I am supposed to curse you!” You stomp your foot, before starting to pace the length of the stage. You approach him again, getting in his face, “I am here to kidnap you!!!” “Not while I’m around, you won't!” The heroic knight barges in. The audience cheers. He chases you the length of the stage a couple of times before you are scared off completely. “Oh, no! My guards have chased off the witch. When will I ever get a chance like that again?” Wally mused, swirling the jar with one of his hands. “At least she left this for me to remember her by!” He takes the lid off, and takes a delicate sip. His eyes shoot open wide, and he looks at it in surprise, “Oh, this is actually really good.” He breaks his character, and from backstage you blush at the compliment. He downs the rest of the jar, and then lets out a loud, dramatic wail. He falls backwards, into Eddie’s waiting arms. “The beautiful princess!!! He is cursed!” Eddie cried, and shook Wally, “Do not worry, princess!! I will avenge you!” ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● The next while is a whirlwind. You and Wally watch from the sidelines as Eddie has his time to shine; going on a quest to find the Witch, and beating a dragon along the way. Sally narrates the whole thing while Eddie pantomimes, crossing deserts and jungles and lava rivers. He ends up at your witch hut… Only to find a note, saying “Out Kidnappin’”, and having to turn around to rescue the princess once more. The audience was having a blast, cheering and laughing and heckling Eddie. Finally, He returns to the castle. He finds you, wailing over the sleeping form of the princess, “Oh! Woe is me! If only I hadn’t cursed you, Princess! We would be wed by now!” You cry, and waggle the empty jar for dramatic effect. “Evil witch!” Announced Eddie, storming on to the scene. You let out a loud gasp. “You will break this curse, or face my wrath!” “Alas, I cannot! Only a kiss from one’s love can break this curse! I did not think it through very well,” You admitted, rubbing your cheek, “Perhaps a kiss from his trusted knight will be good enough?” “Me? Love the Princess?” The knight rubs the back of his neck nervously, “No, my love lies elsewhere.” “What a predicament!” Sally chimed in, and you and Eddie both adopt puzzled expressions, holding your hands under your chin. “But the two of them would find the Princess’ love where they would least expect it!” “Why don’t you try, Evil Witch?” Asked the knight. You point at yourself in confusion. He nods vigorously, “You did propose to her after all! And she did accept it!” You kneel down next to Wally. Your stomach was doing knots. Thankfully you knew how to do a stage kiss, but still… You peer down at Wally’s pretend-sleeping form. He opens one eye to look up at you, and gives your hand a short, encouraging squeeze. Okay, you can do this. The show must go on. Its just for the show. Calm down, you. You take in a deep breath, and lean down… Way too fast. Your forehead collides with Wally, and the two of you leap backwards from each other, holding your respective heads. There is a beat of silence. “Uh… The Princess has awakened! Hooray!!!” Eddie cheers. The audience follows in turn. Your head is throbbing. “With the curse broken, and the Princess and the Witch finding true love, the sun shiny kingdom lived happily ever after!” Sally announced to the world, and the applause started up from in front of you. Eddie helps the both of you to your feet, and you give a quick bow before ducking back behind the curtains to calm down. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● “What a laugh,” Wally drolled, sprawled out next to you under a tree as he watched the event wrapping up. Frank was examining Eddie’s armour heavily, testing how every joint worked with a careful eye. The rest of the group has Sally and Julie surrounded, chattering about their favourite parts, and how they can’t wait to see it again. You secretly hope that you can sit out of the next play. “I’m glad it’s over; I don’t think I ever want to kiss you again..” Your heart crinkled into a million pieces. What? You thought things were going so well! You turn away from him, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes. Even if he were that upset about the play– he didn’t have to be so rude about it! “Haha! Yeah, who would ever want that? What a dumb idea! Ha!” Your acting is as terrible as ever, but you hope he doesn’t notice. “Sally said it would be nice, but honestly, that just hurt. I don’t understand why people do that. My head is probably going to ache for a week.” Huh? Your tears are blinked away, replaced with absolute amazement. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Did he really not…? “What? Wally, no, that wasn’t a kiss! That was… A klutz!” You exclaim, cheeks burning with resentment, “Kisses are supposed to be nice, I just…” You reach up, covering your forehead. Oh, you idiot. “Messed everything up.” Wally leaned in closer to you, peering up into your eyes. Gosh, that blush was cute on him. “If that wasn’t a kiss… Then what is?” “Ohh, Wally. A kiss… A kiss is…” You stumble over your words, trying desperately not to meet his eyes. If this was some sort of elaborate joke, you were never going to speak to him again. Well… At least it wasn’t in front of the audience. You gulp down your courage, and lean forwards, pressing a quick peck onto his cheek. His eyes are wide, watching you expectantly. “... Wait, I think I wasn’t paying enough attention. Can you do it again?” Your hands fly up to cover your face, and you groan, “Wally!!! Don’t tease me like that, its not nice!” “What?” He asks, and reaches forwards, moving your hands from your face. You get a good look at him finally. “Whos teasing? Please, Daisy?” He looks sincere… You’re trembling a little as you lean up again, giving him another, longer kiss on his cheek. He waits a beat, looking deep in thought. He leans back to close the gap, pressing one directly on to your cheek in return. Your heart leaps out of your throat. He gives you another, a little lower, then another, up on your cheekbone. This must be heaven. “Hmm… I think I’ve got it,” He mused, watching you with a smug smile on his face as you melt. “Cool show, kids!” Barnaby makes his presence known, bringing the two of you back to solid ground with it. Wally’s eyes light up, and he stands, rushing to the dogs side. “Barnaby– quick. Let me show you what Daisy just taught me.” He grabs the dog’s vest, tugging him down to be level with the puppet, and presses a kiss on to his cheek. Barnaby’s cheeks flush, and he slowly looks between you, and a very proud looking Wally. No, you take it back. This is hell. You bury your face in your hands, and Barnaby falls to the ground, wheezing out laughter at how hard you’d just been friendzoned. In a fury, you stand, grabbing your things, “I’m leaving!” You announce, and stomp off towards your home. Barnaby tries to stop you, but he can’t stop his giggles for long enough to call out to you. Wally just stares at your back in confusion, and rubs his cheek… Wondering just what he’d done wrong. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● @elegantkidfansoul @itsyoboysparkel

#wally x reader #welcome home x reader #welcome home fic

90 notes · View notes

cruel-style · 2 months

Text

I think Delicate is going to be a tour staple from now until the end of Taylor’s career just like Love Story, YBWM, Shake it Off etc because of 123LGB.

#text

11 notes · View notes

shintin · 1 year

Text

Forget Me Not: Chapter 36 (Run)

↳ Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Description: Having fallen into this world, you were forced to shed blood to survive. But what about when you get tired, when you think the blood on your hands won’t wash off and give up because you have nothing to lose?

Yep, you were there, at rock bottom, rolling in the deep.

Then, there came a day when life gave you a new chance to live, laugh, and love, or so she thought.

Genre: heavy angst, sad love story, maybe tragedy, violence, lonely hearts, broken souls, +18.

Tags/Warnings: nothing but angst.

Song Recommendation: Love in the dark- Adele

Chapter index -> Next Chapter

Year: 2019

An hourglass.

She was an hourglass. Years had collapsed and buried her from the inside out. Her legs felt full of sand and stapled together, her mind brimming with grains of indecision, undone choices, and impatient as time passed from her body. The clock's little hand struck her with one, two, three, and four. Whispering hello, get up, stand up, it's time to wake up, wake up…

"Wake up! Wake up, Y/N!"

A sharp intake of breath and her eyes flew open, her skin breaking into a sudden, cold sweat, somehow staring into the brown eyes that seemed to know too much, too well. He was leaning over her, his worried eyes inspecting her, his hand caught in the air as if he was about to shake her shoulder, but he had hesitated.

"What are you doing?" She didn't recognize her own raucous, panicked voice, as if she hadn't spoken for days.

"You were screaming in your sleep." He jerked back but was still staring, unblinking, chest rising and falling.

"Who are you?"

Slowly, her hand sought a sharp edge beneath her pillow, but there was no knife. What? She dripped panic everywhere. Her hand clenched, and her eyes quickly looked for a way out. Apart from these light and clear eyes, blonde hair, with a strange, friendly smile, the room seemed familiar.

"Who am i?" said the man. "I’m a friend."

She glanced at him and tried to sit up, but suddenly the world vanished in and out of her focus, shades of grey glistening like frames on stilts, erratic movements.

"Don't rush. You're a bit late, but we have some time left." He talked like he knew her, like they were close once. It felt insane.

"Do I know you?"

"Yes."

Her heart leaped. The simplicity of his answer strangled her mind, digging for the truth.

"I’m Kento. Kento Nanami.”

The name scratched an old wound, but it didn't bleed. It didn't make sense. What was wrong with her? Why was the whole thing upsetting her?

Her head was a piece of pavement, and she was being trampled to death. She had no clue where they were. She knew nothing about Kento. Wait! Kento was Satoru's friend. Satoru knew him. Satoru. Her Satoru. Satoru, who left her alone and killed her brothers.

The wound opened up, and she remembered bleeding all over her gown, kneeling on the floor, and collapsing in a puddle of her own blood. There were hands… the hands that caught her and the scene that her eyes picked up for the last time—the corpses of her brothers. The heavyweight, which was lifted off her shoulders for a few seconds, landed twice as heavy, and because she was not ready, she was crushed underneath.

She sat up and tried to move, but she was off-balance, unsteady. Kento got up to get hold of her, but his hands stopped in the air. She clung to the bed frame, breathing fast, hands shaking.

"Take it easy." One swift appraisal was all he needed to know that she was not well. In fact, she looked terrible. Thinner than ever, with dark circles under her eyes. Tired and weak, but she was alive. She was breathing.

He lifted his head in her direction but stared at a spot directly behind her. His voice was soft when he spoke, "You look better today," he said. His gaze carefully avoided her bandaged hand.

She felt Kento's gaze like an actual weight against her chest, but she chose to study the careful bandage stretched tight across the palm of her hand because she had too much of anger to look up at his face.

As far as her memory helped, she had only injured her palm, but now her entire left hand was bound in gauze. Wait! Didn't she attempt to remove the bandage this morning?

She narrowed her eyes, opened it carefully and, as opposed to this morning, felt no pain.

Her wound had been healed, but it left a scar. Her finger moved across the scar, wondering how many more miseries she had to bear before things finally came into place. If they ever would.

She pulled herself into a seated position, looking around, thinking about the time she was transferred from the infirmary to this room…

Ah, a headache!

She had to close her eyes to steady the dizziness, but couldn’t stop herself from questioning: Was it all a dream? She did’t kiss Satoru, right?

She touched her lip, and somehow, she could still feel him. If she focused, she could relive the exact moment it happened; the moment was so intense that she could never forget it.

She distracted herself with the carpet laid out on the floor. Her voice sounded tiny when she asked, "Where is he?"

Kento sighed, running a hand through his hair and gripping the back of his neck. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen him lately."

"He was in the fucking infirmary this morning!" she told him, anger and rage rising within her. She stumbled on her feet. Her legs were unsteady. She nodded and didn't know why, but she seemed incapable of stopping. She wanted to walk to the door, find him and—

"Where do you think you're going? What's wrong?"

She spun around. She looked mutinous. "What's wrong? Oh, like you don't know?"

He took a step back and reminded himself that this girl could probably kill him with her bare hands if she wanted to.

"You have already kept so much from me," she said, feeling her strength faltering.

"I swear I never meant to hurt you," he said.

She studied his face and analyzed his patient, earnest tone. She remembered this morning; it must have been this morning because she could still remember his face, lips, and tender touch. He probably carried her here, tucked her in bed. It must have been him.

But when she glanced at her body, she realized she was wearing different clothes from her vague memory and wondered who had changed them.

"You were unconscious for two weeks, and you were always here, in your room. You only spent a few hours in the infirmary after you blacked out from the blood loss," he said, standing in front of her.

"What?" she said the word, but her lips made no sound. She was numb in some sense. Blinking and seeing nothing. “I was unconscious for two weeks?”

He looked at her, studied her. She seemed almost about carved from stone, motionless in the midst of chaos. She stared into the door with an impossible-to-read gaze. But he needed no supernatural ability to know what she was thinking.

"We need to talk, Y/N."

She closed her eyes, and her lips parted in quiet terror. It's been ages since she was haunted like this. She suddenly caught a chill. Her hands started shaking, or maybe it was her bones. Kento guided her to her bed, and she followed mechanically, so slowly, her mind still fuzzy. She was vaguely aware that he might be saying something, but she was shivering, and the words were beyond her reach.

She leaned back against the bedboard, welcoming the cold and the pain of the metal digging into her spine. She pulled her knees towards her chest and felt her feet pressing into the warm mattress.

Her gaze rested on him for a moment, cataloging his tense shoulders and disheveled hair.

"Talk," she managed to say and exhaled quietly, slowly. They hadn't spoken to each other since they returned from the wedding.

Secrets are like poison. Any fool can spit out poison, but we choose to store these painful treasures in our hearts. Swallow them every day and forcefully keep them inside. These secrets stay in place, get heavier, and fester. After a while, the only option left is to crush the heart that holds them. Kento had grown tired of secrets.

He sighed, then moved the chair so he could sit by her bed. "There are things you don't know."

"No way!”

He was surprised at her sarcasm. He hesitated, exhaled, and dragged his hand across his mouth and chin to the back of his neck. "I have no idea where to start."

Her brain was screaming at her to put cotton in her ears and tell him to stop talking. But, "Start from the beginning," she said, amazed she could bring herself to speak. She had never seen him this way before and sadly, had no way of finding out what he wanted to say. He clasped his hands together so tightly she thought he might accidentally break his own fingers.

And then, finally, slowly, he spoke. “When you turned yourself in last year, you received the death penalty. You were going to be executed."

She thought the emotional implosion of that night had ended, but much had happened since then. It shocked her to think how much she had changed over the last year. She felt like a completely different person.

"I know."

"But Satoru became involved," he said. "And he stopped your sentence."

"To piss his dad. Don’t forget this little detail!" She scoffed. Disappointment lodged in her throat, a cold stone she was unable to swallow.

Without paying attention to her interruption, he continued, "And he fed Higher Ups some bullshtit to convince them that your alive is worth more than your corpse. But they never agreed. They believed you weren't easy to deal with, that you deliberately wanted to get into school because you had an interest here, even though they never mentioned what you might be looking for."

Even if she didn't want to react to this admission, she felt something growing inside her, like his words sank into her and expanded in her chest. The blood started flowing through her veins. "Wait! I thought you all knew my brothers, cursed wombs, were in school, and you hid it from me!

"No." He shook his head. "We suspected that you came here because of Sukuna, so we all thought that he was the one you were interested in. So, to save Yuji, Satoru wanted to know the purpose of reviving a 1000-year-old curse. He used his trump card and said he would make a binding vow with you. As you know, binding vows are contracts between two or more individuals bounded by the cursed energy. Both parties have to come to an agreement on a particular set of mutually beneficial conditions. Punishment for violating a binding vow with others is considered death. So you can tell there was a lot of opposition to his decision, but he forced them to accept."

There was a snake in her throat, searching its way to her heart. "That's really interesting," she said, "Sorry I couldn't be as helpful as you hoped! Is that why you kept it a secret from me? Did you know about it?"

"I know about what?"

"YUJI!"

Her sharp tone was so unpredicted, it forced his mind to focus. He met her eyes to find she was staring straight through him, with both hurt and anger.

"Yes."

"And you hid it from me," said she. "All this time, you knew he was my brother, and you didn't tell me? How do you think of yourselves as my friend?”

She sought an answer in his face, but there was none. Every memory, every belief, everything she thought she knew about Kento was sinking in. She enveloped herself with her arms, her lips trembling.

"When you had the chance to make a binding vow with the strongest sorcerer, you chose Yuji's life over yours. Indeed it was suspicious. You were a goddamned wanted fugitive! We figured you were after Sukuna or that you knew Yuji was your brother.”

"Who is this we you're talking about? Don't you know me?" she said, obviously on edge. "Satoru couldn’t save me from everyone who thirsted for my blood. I didn't know Yuji. I had no idea who he was. I felt a strange closeness with him! That's it! And I knew Satoru was the one who could protect this kid!" she paused and looked away. It seemed strange when her lips uttered his name. "I didn't want Satoru to die, not because of his stupid binding vow for me, but for anything else," she said and clenched her blanket and dug out her nails.

I cared so deeply about Satoru, was the thing she didn't say. That the wounded boy inside him deserved happiness was what she kept to herself.

It hurt her that she could not bring herself to feel the other way about him despite her anger. Yes, he was there for her when no one else was; he gave her hope when she needed it the most; he loved her when nobody else did. But it was he who ruined her life and left permanent marks.

But what good was it to shout out these facts when the pain would not be healed?

Kento understood the heaviness of the situation. So he settled in silence, realizing how important this friendship and Y/N was to him. He raised his head and saw how a single tear escaped down the side of her face, but she wiped it with the back of her hand.

The sight was heartbreaking.

"Kento," she called, her voice worn out from the weight of so much pain. "Why do you recall all these things? What any of this has to do with me?"

"All of this has to do with you and that binding vow," he said, finally meeting her eyes.

"How?"

"You're a half-curse, half-human." He swallowed. He was looking in his hands when he said, "Curses are created when the cursed energy is leaking from humans because of their negative emotions. Half of you is a curse, yet your human part suffers when the negative energy is attracted to you. The same happens when you touch the sorcerers since they do not emit negative energy. But what happens to the positive energy? Don't you think it could be a torment to your curse side?”

The revelation was like a thunderclap. She sat there, staring at him, stunned. She tried to stay calm even as her mind caught fire. Why had she never thought of that?

"You mean positive energy is bad for me as much as negative one???"

He nodded.

The reality of what he was saying spread like poison in the pit of her stomach.

"So you're saying this is a lose-lose situation?"

He shook his head. "You used all the negative energy you absorbed to build a special grade out of yourself. Then you healed yourself with positive energy. This is how you survived for years, Y/N, and you will continue to do so."

"I survived???" Her voice broke. "You have no idea, Kento. You have no idea because you don't even know the whole story. I had to hide from people my whole life!" Her breath hitched. "I let my humanity loose to stay alive! And you call this surviving?"

“But you have learned to conceal yourself from the cursed energy of humans. Your human part has grown as powerful as your cursed part. You were in the balance until—" He didn't continue.

"Oh, God!" She pressed her palm onto her mouth.

A shock of pain tried to reach her, to get around her new cold heart, and she managed to fight the worst. Even so, a brick of something hot and awful plunged into her chest.

"Even with your new skills, you can't hide from the positive or negative energies transmitted by touch. When I, Shoko or Ijichi touched you all this time, it wasn't just our negative energies that hurt you. Our positive energy also plagued you."

She stood up, confused and horrified. She was unable to shape words, unable to speak.

“Satoru alone was able to touch you without hurting you. He was an exception. Have you ever wondered why?" he asked.

Her mind was working fast, trying to solve an impossible equation, and a crazy theory took root inside of her, crystalizing in a way she had never thought it could.

It was a simple question, but she couldn't stop shaking her head.

"Stop," she said. "No, please don't do this to me," she begged, but Kento didn't listen. He said she needed to know by now, and she should know the truth.

"STOP TELLING ME THIS," she screamed.

"It was the binding vow," he said.

Another wave of shock, another unforeseen detonation that imploded within her.

BOOM

There it was. There was her head, lying on the floor, cracked right open, her brain spilling out in every direction, and she couldn't, she didn't… She was standing there, struck, slightly dizzy.

Horrified.

Satoru was not immune to her. He could only touch her because of that binding vow.

BOOM

She was numb, a world of nothingness; all her feelings and emotions were gone forever. She was a whisper that never was.

It was like the world had been knocked off its axis, like she had been flung from the earth and she had headed directly for the sun, like she was being burned alive and somehow, she could still hear Kento, even as her skin melted inward, as her mind turned inside-out. Everything she had ever known and thought to be true about who she was and what she was, vanished.

"Y/N," he called her name. "You already knew about this, didn't you?" he questioned.

"Please don't say anymore. Please don't say anything else," she pleaded.

“He told you that your love for him could be a side effect of your vow of loyalty toward him, but you ignored him. You knew him very well, but you never asked yourself how a person who never had a relationship suddenly fell in love."

She should have known it couldn't have been that easy, that it couldn't have been so simple. It Looked like nobody ever thought Y/N's immunity from his touch was a happy coincidence. As if everybody already knew that she was not someone to fall in love with and that there had to be a mistake. Of course, they thought it had to be bigger than that, more specific than that. While she always wanted to believe, she just got lucky.

Her heart must be bleeding out of her chest. She looked down and couldn't understand why there was no blood on her clothes when the pain in her heart felt so real.

"I'm not judging you, Y/N. It was the first time you could touch someone without getting hurt, so you held on to that little hope you had newly found."

Kento was right. Satoru was the first who had ever shown her compassion. The first and, at the time, the only person who could touch her. She was caught up in the impossibility of it, so convinced fate had brought them together.

She thought it was him.

And it was.

And it wasn't.

She wanted to laugh at her own blindness.

That binding vow, it linked them. It did bring her and Satoru together, but not because they were destined for one another. Not because he had fallen in love with her. It was just a simple connection.

Being with Satoru gave her a new kind of strength. She was still very broken, but Satoru cared for her and gave her a reason to stand up for herself when she was too down. It was affection and a desperate desire for physical connection—the things she had been wholly unfamiliar with and deprived of. She had nothing to compare these new experiences to.

Of course, she thought she was in love.

But while she didn't know much, she could tell Satoru never really loved her, because if he did, he wouldn't kill her brothers. He wouldn't hurt her.

She knew this; she had seen proof of the opposite; she had seen him doing anything to save his students.

Her faith was so shattered that she couldn’t tell what Satoru would do if she opposed him. She wasn't confident he wouldn't kill her, too. And this uncertainty alone made her certain that something was not right between them. Something wasn't real.

There was no love between them.

That's it. She got it now.

In the midst of all this, deep in the center of her chest, a part of her was burning with rage and anger like coals that had become hot and red.

She couldn't even believe that all the good things she had experienced, the interruption in her miserable life, were a side effect of a crappy bond.

"Here's another thing I wanted to say."

She turned only an inch in his direction and finally noticed the faint lines around his eyes, his forehead, the threads of silver gleaming through the neat dreadlocks fallen on his eyebrows.

"No," she said, smothering her ears with her hands. "I don't want to hear—"

"Love is the strongest source of positive energy," he said in a crude voice.

She looked at him with her fingers pinched around her ears, shaking her head, tears pouring down her face. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what she could ever say.

Is that why her injuries didn't heal as quickly as before?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she remembered. She closed her eyes, her lungs knotting together. All of the dots were connected now.

That's why she felt tired all the time. That's why it hurt when he touched her this morning. No. It wasn't this morning. Fuck!

She wasn't even sure whether it was real or not! God damn it! She knew nothing about her own life. She got so close to madness that she wanted to scream.

"I see you have figured out the rest," he said and lowered his head.

Kento looked exhausted but not defeated. He looked freer, his eyebrows unfrowned. His fists were unclenched. His face was calm in a way she hadn't seen in what felt like a long time. He looked relieved. As if he had been carrying this great burden, he thought it might kill him. As if he had felt sharing this truth with Y/N might somehow inspire a lifelong hatred between him and his friend.

But Y/N wasn't angry at all. She was overwhelmed, shocked beyond belief.

She looked as though she had been scooped out from the inside, like someone had spooned out all the organs she needed to function, and she was left with nothing, just emptiness, just complete and utter disbelief.

She tripped out of bed so fast that she pulled the covers down.

"Y/N!" Kento rushed up. "I understand that—"

"STOP IT," she finally screamed. She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, anger, heartbreak, exhaustion, and crushing devastation filling her lungs. It was the weight of all these years, the embarrassment of false hopes forged in her heart, treason, loss...

She still had a tiny thread of hope, and she had to cling to it. She had to go. Suddenly, out of the blue, she ran to the door and fled the room. She ran down the hall. Her shoes scuffed on the concrete, her feet knocking into each other as she heard Kento calling after her.

Run, Y/N. Run until your lungs collapse, until the wind whips and snaps at your tattered clothes, until you're a blur that blends into the background. Run, Y/N, run faster until your bones break, your shins split, your muscles atrophy, and your heart dies because it was always too big for your chest and beat too fast for too long and run.

Run, run, and run until you can't remember him. Run with open eyes and your mouth shut and dam the river rushing up behind your eyes. Run, Y/N.

Run until you drop dead.

Make sure your heart stops before you remember him. Before you ever remember.

Run.

Her feet pounded against the hard, packed earth, each steady footfall sending shocks of electric pain up her legs. Her lungs were burning, her breaths coming in quickly and abruptly, but she was pushing through the exhaustion, her muscles working harder than they had in a long time, and she kept moving.

If she stopped, she was scared her thoughts might kill her.

She took a deep breath and felt the crisp, icy air rush as it burned through her lungs. The wind wrapped around her, pulling and pushing and dancing, whipping her hair into a frenzy, and she leaned into it, got lost in it, and opened her mouth to inhale it.

Her body shook with unpent emotion.

How did this start? How was she going to deal with all of this? These last few weeks were already too much for her, too much to digest, too much to juggle. Now she had learned she was doomed to solitary unless she could find someone like herself, like a family member, like a brother, a sweet innocent pink-haired boy, Yuji Itadori.

If Yuji hadn't come to the morgue that day, how long would they hide everything from her? She couldn't say since everyone she trusted had lied to her and manipulated her. Everyone had been using her.

The sudden scream rippled itself from her lungs, but when she raised her head, she stifled it. She was outside the boys' dormitory.

How did, when did she arrive here? Could this be some shit dream? She rubbed her eyes, and it didn't change anything. She was awake, and this wretchedness was absolute.

Well, if it is...

She glanced around and then checked her behind. Fortunately, she was not followed.

Her hand went to the doorknob, twisted it slowly, then walked in. The wind remained behind the door. There was a heavy silence in the atmosphere that added to her stress.

She had been in this dormitory before but had never found it as empty and deserted as that day.

This shouldn’t surprise her, as it was autumn and the busy season of curses, which meant that almost all the students were sent on missions, which meant they were doing well. But this fact didn't soothe her heart rate. She didn't believe in her gut anymore.

She walked down the corridor and stood by a room she knew belonged to Yuji. She took a deep breath, cracked the door open, and stepped inside.

The first time she saw this room, she thought it must look like a typical teenage room. But now that she knew the truth, she was glad it looked like a typical teenage room because at least one of them could live something normal in life.

She ran her fingers over his manga collections and smiled with a half-smile when her eyes fell on the posters on the walls.

"It's nice to have you up."

Y//N felt flashes of heat sparked behind her eyes. Anger gushed in her throat and vibrated along her spine. She could almost taste the bitter taste of rage building inside her, and it took everything she had to clamp it down.

The sound of the approaching steps and then: "You worried me."

Y/N didn't flinch when Shoko tried to say good morning to her, but she did pretend not to hear her. Or perhaps she didn't actually hear her. Maybe she had managed to train her brain to no longer hear or see the sorcerers, Shoko thought.

Y/N turned on her heel, walked over to the bed, slowly sat on it, closed her eyes, and leaned her elbows onto her lap, putting her head in her hands.

She had become a shade of who she was. Shoko's heart felt weighed down by the depth of her pain. She wished so much that she could do something to help, to fix things, and at that moment, she remembered something from the past. She understood that Y/N would probably want to be left alone, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking toward her. She wouldn't say a word, she promised herself. She only wanted to be around her right now. So, she sat beside her and leaned her head against the wall.

An uncomfortable silence took place between them, and for minutes, neither spoke.

"You should have told me," Y/N muttered.

If Shoko hadn't seen the movement of Y/N's lips with her own eyes, she would have thought for a second that she was hallucinating and that her ears had misheard. She hesitated before giving a response.

"You talked to Kento," Shoko said.

The pain was intense, like cold steel, like knives in Y/N's chest. Painful reminiscences of today's revelations. She nodded.

"And that's why you ran as you did," Shoko said, looking at her.

Y/N immediately turned her face. "You were watching me?"

"I'm a doctor. That's what we do." Shoko smiled, but it looked tired.

Y/N shook her head and even laughed a sad, twisted laugh. "You won't even deny it," she said. "Unbelievable!"

"I'm sorry," Shoko said, dropping her head. "I really am sorry."

"You should've told me!"

Y/N's eyes were deep and steady, frightening serious, Shoko felt a bolt of panic pierced her through the chest. "You have no idea how many times I wanted to."

Silence.

More silence.

The minutes passed between them, silent and still, stopping only to hear them breathe.

Then a whisper.

"I have a brother."

Shoko raised her head and watched her.

"I have a brother," she said again, her voice so soft. "Yuji is my brother." Her eyes were focused on a point far from here, pinched together in pain, confusion, and something that looked regretful.

"I should've known," she said to her. “I could sense his pain, and he was always strangely familiar. I don't know how we can even share the same parent."

Y/N thought Shoko might have an answer for this, but when she saw her silence, she sighed and looked down. Her voice was so low Shoko could hardly hear it. "I should protect him," she said, nodding her head. "After what happened to my brothers, It's a matter of time for Higher Ups to kill him as well."

"They don't know about you and him." A break, then Shoko proceeded, "Also, wait a minute! I thought you spoke with Kento."

"I did."

"And what exactly did he say?" Shoko crossed her arms.

Y/N smiled. It was a slow, delighted smile. The kind of smile that would break into a laugh and could light up her features. But she closed her eyes, her face so touched, so amused. She tilted her head, and suddenly she started laughing. Out loud. Laugh and hiccup and desire to die, disappear, so desperately.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Kento told me everything, and I was an idiot for thinking things could be different," she told her. "For thinking my life could ever be better than it was, that I could be better than I was." She tried to speak again but instead clamped a hand over her mouth, like she couldn't believe what she was about to say. She forced herself to swallow the stone in her throat. She dropped her hand. "A curse." Her voice was raw, aching. I was never made to be happy. “I'm a damned fool. A feral creature consumed by her own agony."

Y/N had realized that deep down, she was harbouring a small hope that one day she would have a normal life. Somewhere deep down, she had found a way to cling to that useless possibility. And now that was gone. She would never be touched, hugged, kissed, or loved.

She could see herself. She could see herself the way she could be, the way she would be if things were different, but now she would forever and ever be alone.

She took a shaky deep breath, her mind whirring, her own brain no longer a safe space to inhabit because she couldn't stop thinking. She couldn't stop wondering. She couldn't stop anything, and it was like she was caught in what could be a head-on collision she was not the innocent bystander.

"Can I ask you a question?" Shoko said.

"Ask."

"Why do you think Satoru killed your brothers?"

Y/N was so shocked and unprepared to answer such a question that she was momentarily speechless.

"I mean," Shoko broke, finally losing her composure, her voice rising pitch. "You don't just kill your girlfriend's brothers out of the blue, do you?"

Y/N wanted to believe that Satoru was more than the mold he was forced into, that maybe he didn't want to kill her brothers, that Higher Ups forced him into it; but again, who could force Satoru Gojo into something he didn't desire?

"You can kill anybody," Y/N said, feeling hysterical. "If you do not have sentiments for them. At least, that's as far as I know." Her fists clenched. She didn't want to talk about her past beliefs. She didn't want to talk about Satoru. Ever again. She wanted to rip her heart out of her chest and throw it in the ocean for all the good it had even done her.

She didn't want to feel anything for him anymore, but then again, she remembered how all their feelings were nothing but a delusion.

"It wasn't all his fault, for God's sake," Shoko was fast to say, staring at the carpet, all terror and desperation. "They had become curse users, Y/N. Your brothers kidnapped Saitama Urami East Junior High students and caused multiple deaths around the Yasohachi Bridge. Higher Ups asked Yuji and Nobara to take over the mission, but since Satoru knew what it would do to you and Yuji, he volunteered to do it to prevent the disaster," she paused. "And to prove your innocence in Exchange Event."

Panic and terror clouded Y/N's consciousness. She swallowed harshly, struck at the heart. She felt as if she had been sanded up to the bone. A desperate emptiness burned through her, leaving her feeling faint.

How could all this shit be real? Why wasn't she waking up yet? Why had no one reached out to tell her it was okay, it was just a bad dream, that everything would be okay?

“Y/N?” Shoko muttered, looking at her with anxious eyes.

"How come he never told me?" Y/N asked, eyes closed, lips half mumbling.

Shoko turned her face away, leaning her temple to her palm. She regretted not wearing her white robe today of all days because she superstitiously believed that piece of cloth could make her bulletproof against situations like this. It was as if all the answers were hidden in one of its pockets and the painkillers in the other, but right now, without her magic robe, her hands were empty.

Shoko placed her hands on her knees as she tried to sigh. She didn't look at Y/N when she whispered, "He wanted you to hate him."

Y/N was still; her eyes widened.

Shoko went further, "And it worked. Hatred and pain forced you to wake you up when nothing could." She smiled. It was a little less exuberant than it usually was because she, too, was sick of all these craps.

For Shoko, it didn't seem right that so much horrible crap should be allowed to come down in such a short time. There should be a fail-safe in the universe. Somewhere, something that automatically would shut down in the event of extreme human agony. Maybe an emergency lever. A button, even.

This was ridiculous.

"He did to bring me back?" Y/N said, her mouth halted midmotion, then swallowed.

Shoko pressed her lips together in a nod.

Y/N didn't react. Knowing this did nothing to soothe her. It made her feel strange and foreign, like her life was never her own, like she was an actor in a play directed by strangers.

Old Y/N would've cried. Broken Y/N would've split open from the sudden impact of today's heartbreaking revelations, the depth of lies, and the pain of feeling so profoundly betrayed. But this new version of her refused to react; instead, her body wanted to shut down.

Shoko checked the clock on the wall. "You'd better leave," she said and turned to face Y/N. It was then that she realized she was digging her fingernails into her palm. "You should run away."

Y/N was stunned. This might be the very first time she had heard anyone, but herself talk her thoughts about running away. What kind of sick game was this?

"This was a promise," Shoko added. "I was supposed to help you escape if something happened to you and your baby." She sighed and stared at the ceiling. "I need you to know how sorry I am, for keeping you here, for stopping you from leaving, for everything we've made you endure."

Y/N didn't expect this. Of all the things she thought might happen, she could never have dreamed a scenario such as this. In her experience, she was usually the monster. She was the one expected to make amends. And now, she was speechless. Speechless by the experience.

Her perceptions of life resulted from the seeds most of those around her planted in her heart. They took root in her as she grew, settling deep into her soul. Good ones had been planted well. They flourished and found homes in her heart. They built trunks around her spine. They were steadying her when she was most flimsy, planting her feet firmly when feeling most unsure. But the bad ones, the seeds Toji gifted her, grew poorly. Her trunk was infested and spoiled until she was hollow and housing the interests of others and not her own. She was forced to eat the fruit those perceptions had borne, held hostage by the branches growing arms around her neck, suffocating her to death.

Now, after years, she had to do the hard work of sucking the poison from her past.

"Shoko," she said gently. "None of that matters anymore."

"I know," Shoko said, sadness raining from her tone. "But it kills me to know that everything could have been different." She watched the movement in Y/N's throat as she swallowed hard. "Forgive me," she whispered. "Forgive me for hurting you. I gave you false hopes, and I'm so sorry."

When Y/N finally spoke, her voice was rough with emotion. "There is nothing to forgive." She took a deep breath and felt her pain easing a little, like icy hands were closing around the wounds festering in her flesh. It wasn't until then that she began to speak. "It's okay." The pain flowed out of her eyes as she looked away.

"You're running out of time, " Shoko said, trying to change the subject, as if time were the kind of thing you could run out of, as if it were measured into bowls handed to us at birth. If we ate too much or too fast or right before jumping into the water, our time would be lost, wasted, and already spent. But time is beyond our finite comprehension. It's endless. It exists outside of us. We cannot run out of it to lose track of it or find a way to hold on to it. Time goes on even if we do not.

"Why?" Y/N asked, and Shoko told her how the elders, especially those of the Gojo clan, were on their way to the school to convict her of her assault on their family's successor, Satoru.

Finally, Y/N seemed to grasp the gravity of what Shoko was trying to relay. Her shoulders stiffened. Her eyes narrowed. "To convict me?" She laughed. "For an assault against their heir?" She sneered. "They know no one can harm him! They just want me out of the way for good! That's just some dumb excuse!" she said, but she didn't look at Shoko. She seemed lost in her thoughts, chewing on her lips as she stared into the distance.

"Which is why you shouldn't waste time," Shoko said.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere without Yuji. I can't leave him here amongst sorcerers."

Shoko was on her feet in an instant. "Are you seriously doing this?"

Y/N nodded.

"You can't just grab him and run away. It's not logical!" Shoko said. "How are you going to protect him? Hm? As fugitives? Stealing to survive and hiding from the world? How is that any better? You'll be worried every single day, constantly looking over your shoulder, terrified of ever leaving Yuji alone. You may survive it, you're used to it, but he's going to be miserable, and you know it!"

Y/N nodded, staring into her hands, trying and failing to hide her despair.

"It doesn't make sense, Y/N," Shoko told her, struggling to moderate her voice. “We all care about Yuji. We don't want him to worry about getting killed or chased by bounty hunters. We have to keep him here. You can't keep him safe. That's why you made a binding vow with Satoru to protect Yuji, and you know he wouldn't let anybody hurt his students!"

Something changed on Y/N's face. For a moment, the light went out of her eyes. "He failed to protect his own daughter!" Y/N's voice broke. "How is Yuji going to be any different? At least he will be alive with me, or I'll die while protecting him!" Her chest was heaving so hard that her body bowed. “You stay out of this!”

"That's not being alive," Shoko said. "That's not living—"

"How would you know?" Y/N snapped. Her mood shifted so suddenly that Shoko was stunned into silence. "What do you know about being alive?" she demanded. "You think you've had it hard, but you don't realize that you've always had a roof over your head. You've never been consumed by grief and guilt to drive you almost completely insane! You've never lived inside of your own head!"

Shoko shuddered, stung by the venom of her voice. She had never seen Y/N so bitter, so cruel. She is just upset, she said to herself. She is just scared and worried, and she doesn't mean any of it, not really, she kept telling herself. She took a deep breath. She didn't lift her head to see Y/N's face when she said, "You're right. I have no idea how it is to live out here, no idea what it is like to starve or kill for money and watch people die in front of me, but you do, don't you? And now you're dragging Yuji down that path as well. You want him to have the same fate as you?"

Words, Y/N thought, were such unpredictable creatures. No gun, sword, army, or king could ever be more powerful than a sentence. Blades may cut and kill, but words will stab and stay, burying into the future, digging and failing to rip their skeletons from your flesh. These weren't nice things to say. Not now. Not after what she had been through. Not after trying to pick up the hopes and dreams and fumbling to glue them back together.

Y/N swallowed hard. "No," she tried to say, tried to inhale. Her lungs were swelling up, and her heart was racing so fast she could hear it pounding in her ears. All she could think was No. I don't wish for Yuji to have a life like mine. She couldn't let his life to fell apart, not again. It broke her heart to imagine it. To think of him struggling to find a way to stay alive.

"I want Yuji to live a long, happy life," she said, her voice small and shattered. "They have taken everything from me. I can't lose Yuji too."

"Please don't kill me for what I'm about to say," Shoko said and rubbed her forehead. Let's release the Kraken. She closed her eyes and cursed herself. This one was going to cause her great trouble. "Your family needs you."

"What the hell, Shoko?"

"Your other brother." A sigh. "Choso. He is alive, and they haven't been able to catch him yet."

Every moment in the world dropped dead right then, because they woke up and realized they would never be as important as this one.

Y/N lost the sensation in her knees. She held on to the wall to steady herself, her bones shaking inside her. "Choso is alive?" she said, hating how it sounded, hating that she sounded shocked.

How much more secret was there for her to learn about? How many more had they kept from her?

Shoko nodded. "Kento was supposed to tell you, but I guess you escaped too early. Choso wasn't there when Satoru found the other two."

Y/N's tears fell backward as they burned their way through her throat. "I have two brothers." A blank stare with a hint of a smile that didn't reach her eyes, instead like a vat of acid seeped into Shoko's skin.

"You have to find him, Y/N," Her words were soft. "Choso probably knows about the fingers stolen by curse users from the school. They had a purpose in stealing them. Find a way to get rid of these fingers before they get a hold on Yuji."

A heavy, cold dread fell over Y/N's body. "Curse users, they stole Sukuna's fingers?" Her heart was pounding, racing, and running through her body, and she was trying to focus and stay calm. "But why? Do they work for Sukuna? My brothers probably didn't know about Yuji, or they wouldn't do that," she said and realized how ridiculous her words must appear from the outside. Because she didn't know her brothers, and it was just a bet on her inner belief that they might have inherited some human emotions like her.

Then she remembered her vow with Sukuna. Twenty fingers, Yuji dies, and she becomes Sukuna's servant.

No, she couldn't allow this. She shook her head; her hands were tremulous.

Shoko stared at her. She never thought Y/N would be capable of looking so scared. But still, she stood on her feet. She would go to any lengths for them because Yuji and Choso were the only things stopping her from diving into a pool of her own insanity. They needed her. She had to fight for them. They were her only family.

Y/N drove her feet to the door and suddenly stopped. Yuji stepped into the corridor with Megumi. He seemed paler and slimmer than she had seen. He had something in his hand, distracted, not noticing the woman looking at him.

But then he looked up and froze.

His lips were parted as if to speak, and whatever he held hit the ground, shattering into so many sounds it startled Megumi and Shoko.

Yuji had not yet had the chance to see Y/N on her feet, and he was looking at her with eyes fixed on her face, his chest heaving, his face fighting so many different emotions. He seemed half terrified, half hopeful.

And while she realized that she should probably be the first to speak, she suddenly had no idea what to say.

"Y/N, you are up!" Megumi's face cracked into a huge smile. A rare occurrence.

Yuji started moving across the hallway in a stupor. It felt strange for Y/N, like everything had begun to slow down, like this moment wasn't real, somehow.

There was so much pain in his eyes.

She felt like she had been punched in the gut.

But then, he reached her, and there he was, right in front of her, his arms wrapped tight around her, and she melted into his embrace, relishing warm comfort, the familiarity with no pain in touch. Her hands reached around him, slipped up his back, and gripped him hard. She didn't even realize silent tears had fallen down her face until he pulled back to look her in the eye.

He told her not to cry, called her his sister, and whispered it was okay, that everything would be okay. And she knew it was all a lie, but it still felt good to hear.

He studied her face, like he had seen her for the first time. "I can't believe you're my sister! How come your hair is not pink!"

Yuji laughed; his laughter was like a hundred little bells, joyous, wholesome, and contagious. Y/N lured him into another fierce hug, holding on as much as she had time. He was happy, so relieved and thrilled, and maybe he would sleep with a lighter heart tonight.

Yuji was so full of life, so full of energy, so excited to have his sister around, but then it occurred to him. He came out of her arms. His suspicious look shifted between Y/N and Shoko.

"You are leaving, aren't you?" Yuji asked, and she was startled to hear it out loud. His fists clenched, tearstains streaked across his face, and his bottom lip trembled even as he fought to hide the pain in his voice.

Her heart split clean in half.

Footsteps were heard, and soon Megumi appeared beside him, with his hand on Yuji's shoulder, silently inviting him to calm down, assuring Yuji that he was there for him.

"Answer me!" Yuji demanded, sniffing back the last of his tears, fists beginning to shake.

"Yuji, don't do this," Megumi said gently, lovingly, and squeezed his shoulder to calm him.

"What? She's leaving me behind, just like everyone else!" He heard accusations in his voice and did nothing to hide it. "Am I wrong? Tell me I'm wrong!"

Time seemed to stand still.

Everything she wanted to say and everything she had wished to say fell to the floor and scrambled upright. Paragraphs and paragraphs began building walls around her, blocking and justifying as they found ways to fit together, linking and weaving and leaving no room for escape. Every single space between every unspoken word clambered up and into her open mouth, filling her with so much emptiness she thought she might just float away.

Shoko's face creased as she pulled herself together. She took her time responding. "She has to go," she said, "to find a way to save you and your other brother."

Yuji didn't respond. He only blinked several times and stared at Y/N. He was still in disbelief, with a face filled with anger, betrayal, and confusion.

Y/N pulled Yuji back into her arms and held him firmly; even though he wanted to push her away, he caved fast. Yuji was angry but preferred to be mad at her in her embrace. Her hand brushed his hair, and she kissed his forehead. Then she told him everything, with all the details, as quickly as she could before the elders came to school.

Shoko cleared her throat. "I hate to ruin this reunion, but the clock is ticking."

By the time the two siblings finally broke apart, they had tears in their eyes.

Yuji smiled, but his smile soon wore off. He lowered his head, as if it was not easy for him to say what he wanted.

"We'll get through this," he said, answering her silent thoughts. "All of it. We're going to be okay. We'll be fine." He touched her shoulder, allowed his fingers to trail down her arm, and held her hand tightly. She closed her eyes and tried to savor the moment.

"You'll work it out," he said. "You will find our brother and a way of destroying Sukuna's fingers. Promise me!"

She was afraid to speak. Fearful of what promises had done to her so far. But even in the darkest hours, light is hiding somewhere. She had to let hope flourish once more, even though hope was a dangerous, terrifying thing for a woman like her to have.

“You're going to get out of this, and I'm going to find Choso, bring him home, and make sure everything's fine. I swear to you, Yuji. I'll take care of everything. You just get stronger every day. All right? Don't worry about a thing. Do you understand?"

Yuji blinked at her. He nodded.

"Good." She stepped forward to plant a kiss on the top of his head. "Good," she said again. "You're going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. I'm going to make sure everything is fine, okay?"

"Okay," he said, wiping away the last of his tears.

"Good," she said for the third time, still staring at his smiling, innocent face.

She smiled back, giving him everything she had, and then darted out the door.

For so many years, she had lived in constant terror of herself. Doubt had married her fear and moved into her mind, where it built castles, ruled kingdoms, and reigned over her, bowing to its will until she was little more than an acquiescing peon, too terrified to disobey, too scared to disagree. She had been chained, taken captive in her own mind. But finally, she had learned to break free.

She was no longer afraid of fear and would not let it rule her. Because for her family, she would reach into the earth, rip out the injustice and crush it with her bare hands.

Y/N took a more confident step forward, this time bracing herself against another sudden, biting gust.

She had never had anything called home in her entire life. Home was not a place for her. She always found a place to hide and store her valuables temporarily, but they were nothing like home. On the other hand, this school had become the first place she ever found sanctuary. The first place she ever felt safe.

She wasn't familiar with the feeling of leaving home; this was the first time she would miss a place. But what could she do? Since sometimes leaving is the only thing you can do.

She sighed because she knew she would be considered a curse user as soon as she left the school boundaries, but she didn't care at all. Everything had a cost, and this was a small price to have a family.

The wind climbed into her clothes, then wrapped itself around her bones. Icy fingers tiptoed up her pant legs, clenched their fists around her knees, and pulled. Suddenly she was not sure how she was still standing. Her blood felt frozen, brittle.

Something heavy fell on her shoulders—a coat.

She looked back to discover that Satoru was holding her blue scarf and hat.

She stopped, stopped breathing, talking, and thinking.

His eyes were moving, studying her. He looked at her with such intensity she wondered if he was even aware he was doing it. She wondered if he knew that when he looked at her like that, she could feel it as acutely as if his bare skin pressed against her own.

Memories crashed over her, scalding her in waves; the weight of his body against hers, the taste of his lips, the heat of his breathes, his sharp gasps for air, and the things he had said to her only in the dark.

She gulped. It indeed did things to her when he looked at her like that. It made her crazy because she hated that she couldn't control this, that this thread between them would remain unbroken till one of them died, and she didn't want him to die.

It was only two months ago, just two months ago, that he was hers.

Carefully, she took the hat and scarf and wore them. Satoru looked into her eyes then. It felt so wrong for him to be this close to her without being able to touch her at all. But he had said his goodbyes two weeks ago, that night in the infirmary.

He looked at her again for just a split second and looked away, and for a brief second, she caught the charge of emotion in his eyes.

'Don't cry,' she said to herself. 'Don't cry.'

She hated him. She hated him for doing this to her heart, hated her body for being so weak, for wanting him, missing him despite everything. She didn't know whether to cry, kiss, or kick him in the teeth, so instead, she said, without meeting his eyes, "You were right. Love really was the most twisted curse of them all."

Satoru fought to swallow back the lump in his throat and turned his head, ready to abandon any rational thought that he was compelled to accept after witnessing the agony he had brought to her life, but she was long gone.

Even six eyes couldn't find her if she didn't want to be found.

Run, run, and run until you can't remember him. Run with open eyes and your mouth shut and dam the river rushing up behind your eyes. Run, Y/N.

Run until you drop dead.

Make sure your heart stops before you remember him. Before you ever remember.

Run.

Her legs screamed. They didn't want to walk away from him. Loyalty, she thought, was keeping her behind, but she pushed them faster anyway. Her lungs were sawing her rib cage in half, but she forced them to process oxygen regardless. Her cursed energy was concealed; she knew he couldn't see her and wouldn't chase her, but she had to keep moving. There was no time for human deficiencies.

She was always welcomed in her loneliness, in her sadness. In this abyss, there was a rhythm she remembered. The steady drop of tears, the temptation to retreat, the shadow of her past, the life she chose to forget had not, would never forget her.

She reached the school crossing and put her hands in her coat pockets, and suddenly her fingers touched the cold metal. A knife. Not just any knife. A knife he gave her. She closed her eyelids to stop the tears from falling. Then her hand tightened around the knife.

She had to be honest with herself. She was never going to forget him. There was no doubt this school felt like home because he was here. Because for the first time, she found safety and peace between his arms in front of that restaurant as his hand was bleeding from her cut.

He was her home.

Her bones against his, that was her home.

And without him, she was going to be homeless for the rest of her life.

Tag list: @hecateria @whattowritewhattonot @@readxeer00 @sunamew @yoongi-holland @sanokana @soft--grunge--burrito @move-in-mysterious-ways @tanu003097 @spookytreeeagle @wonderlandjthedaydreamer @littlecarrot06 @kurooyy @angeliccutie007 @misaki17 @yungliddysyx @nanamiswh0r3 @smokeyfuzz @sumii @zukisbabe @geidly @evalynanne @antheialy

54 notes · View notes