#i just dealt with some rude people on here and this was nice to see in my inbox :))) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

idyllcy · 2 years

Text

Lip & Hip

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Implied nsfw (reader fingers a target, reader has trauma), reader takes meds, komaeda cums in his pants

Summary: Where the new recruit is hotter than Komaeda so he just has to hate them by default

There's a handful of things Komaeda has learned after working at the Future Foundation for a year.

One, you don't wear your heart on your sleeve.

Hinata doesn't do it. Chiaki doesn't do it. Kamukura doesn't do it. Not even the innocently sweet Naegi does. He's so kind, yet some days Komaeda wonders if his kindness was all an act. It wouldn't be surprising if it were. He was such a skilled agent. It was so incredibly insane that he could do so much despite being so young. Komaeda looked up to him a lot. He was just so hopeful...

Two, don't mix work with romance.

Kirigiri and Naegi date, yet they never do anything at work. Business is business. Don't mix pleasure with business. Chiaki and Hinata talk a lot, yet neither make a move at all. Work is not to be mixed with pleasure. Their job was dangerous enough as is; why would they risk the life of someone else because of some foolish emotions? Besides, they could talk in the downtime they had. Every worker settled down after their contract period, after all.

Three, don't fall for the target.

Komaeda has no problem with this. He understands that he's attractive. His skin is fair, and he has crystalline eyes. He's one of the main spies sent when dealing with people weak for pretty faces. No one he dealt with was prettier than him in any way. He prided himself on the fact that he was so hot. Both men and women threw themselves at his feet during missions, and he never had to lift a finger when it came to gathering information. It came to him; it was handed to him because of how pretty he was. He prided himself on that.

Yet as he meets eyes with a new recruit, his heart stops.

what. the fuck.

"Ah, Komaeda-san! This is Y/n, our new recruit," Naegi smiles, signaling at you.

"Nice to meet you," You bow. "Please take care of me; I'll be in your care from now on."

Komaeda feels a mild irritation creep up his back.

"Ah..." he forces a smile on his face. "Likewise."

Naegi watches Komaeda walk off, and he frowns. "Forgive him. He's not usually this rude. It might just be because you're so pretty."

"A-Ah? I'm touched," you smile, cheeks red. "He's very pretty. Was he the one you were talking about who's usually sent out for people who like pretty faces?"

"Yes," Naegi stares at Komaeda leave, his smile turning into a scorn. "I thought he'd be glad to have someone to share missions with... but I suppose not?"

"Is that so?" You pause. "I'm being transferred to the thirteenth division?"

"Yeah," He grins. "The higher ups agreed. You're being moved to that team. They operate rather dangerous missions, though. I'm sure Hinata-san can teach your the ropes of it all. He's an excellent teacher."

Naegi leads you through the building. Everyone is dressed up like office workers except for you, and you pause at the sight of regular office seats. Naegi explains the basics of the building, and you glance out the window at the skyline. Fifty floors up in the air. How terrifying. You're not sure if you'll find what you want here, but it'll be better than working for your past firm. Well, it's not like it mattered. Spies have to do what spies do. The silent war against despair was enough of a stressor already; you'd worry about that later.

"And finally," Naegi beams. "This is the main floor for your division. You all share a flat, and there are extensive measures to make sure that your identity isn't being stolen. You never know who's a remnant of despair these days."

"Weren't... Hinata and Komaeda previous remnants?" You rock on your heels as he punches in a password.

"Yes," Naegi doesn't bother rejecting you, scanning his eye. He presses his thumb to another machine, and the door opens. "But trust me, they were brainwashed to do it like everyone else was."

"I see," You follow behind him, and he presses a button on the wall.

"Hm?" A male opens his door, staring at the two of you.

"Are you the new recruit?" A woman rushes over. "I'm Chiaki! I hope we get along well."

"I'm Hinata, the head of the thirteenth division," Another walks up to you, holding his hand out. You shake it, smiling at him. "That one's Kamukura, and the one who isn't leaving his room is Komaeda. He's the main infiltrator. Did Naegi tell you what your role was?"

"Um... Splitting missions with Komaeda?" You're not too sure yourself.

"Something along the lines of that," Hinata smiles. "It's rare that we find someone as pretty as Komaeda and actually get them in this division. Depending on the sexual orientation of the target, either one of you will be sent to gather information."

"Alright," You smile. "And the rest of you are in charge of?"

"Nanami's in charge of communications and tech, Kamukura is an all rounder, and I'm the second infiltrator in case of emergency," Hinata smiles. "I escape last from the situation to wrap things up."

"...Nanami?"

"Chiaki," Hinata hums. "Her last name is Nanami."

"Oh!" You burn red from embarrassment. "I'm so sorry!"

"No worries," The girl smiles. "I just forgot to tell you my last name."

"Playing innocent to try and fool them?" Komaeda scoffs, the door to his dorm opening. "I wonder how many men you've slept with to get to where you are. Tell me, did you seduce the president? The chairman? The vice chairman? Who did you sleep with to get into our division?"

"Komaeda!" Naegi's the one to speak up. "What's up with you today? Did something happen?"

You hold a hand up to stop him and stare at him. "I'm sure my body count is lower than yours. With a face like yours, surely you would never have to lift a finger to work and keep your position?"

Naegi's eyes widen at the change in tone.

"Hah?!"

"You asked me for my body count," You smile at him, dazzling the others. "It wouldn't be fair if I shared mine with you and didn't learn yours."

Komaeda raises a brow, pissed off. "Do you think I sleep with people for information?!"

"I mean, since you assumed that I did," You blink at him, eyes wide, batting your lashes innocently. "Surely some part of that statement had to hold true to you in some way?"

Komaeda feels the red crawl up his neck. "Excuse me? Do you think I need to work for my information?"

"That just goes on to prove that you've never had to work a minute in your life," You point out.

Komaeda slams the door behind him, and you shrug.

"Sorry about him," Hinata glances at the closed door. "He's usually much better than that. I don't know why he's so on edge."

"I sensed jealousy," Kamukura follows Hinata's gaze. "Envy... and a little bit of lust."

"That last one's interesting," Hinata frowns. "Do you have luggage?"

"Here," You lean on your suitcase.

"I'll take it and lead you to your room." Hinata smiles. "Any preferences? We're ordering supplies next week."

You close your eyes to think. "Nothing in particular."

"Ah, right," Hinata opens the door for you, handing you a packet. "That's everything you need to know for the dorm passwords and such. Did Naegi scan you in?"

"I scanned in when I was on the first floor."

"I'll scan you in right now," He hums. "That was for access to the building. This is for access to our floor. Chiaki! Can you get the new recruit a room password?"

"On it!"

Hinata smiles. "Feel free to ask any questions necessary."

"How often do we receive missions?"

"The higher-ups tend to like using the upper divisions more for the biggest or smallest tasks, and the lower divisions for medium sized ones." Hinata sets your luggage at the door, and he leads you to Chiaki's room.

The missions come in rounds. Usually, it's two weeks of mission after mission and then four days of break. It wears one out, so every single meal, Kamukura makes sure that everyone eats well. You find that the missions aren't half as bad as you had assumed. They're much better than the ones you were sent out for when you worked under the last company. At least someone cooks actual meals here. You don't know what you'd do without Kamukura.

Komaeda likes nitpicking at you while you train on the floor. From the way you wield a gun to the clothes you wear, Koameda always has something to complain about. At first, the flat was put off by how hostile he was, but they grew used to it as you ignored him. It was amusing to watch you stare at him with a face full of 'are you done yet' before continuing your practice. If Kamukura had been the all-rounder, then you'd be right behind him. Your aim was eerily on point, and your words were always laced with something that drove the floor mad. It was like you were manipulating them without even trying.

"A little higher," Chiaki mumbles, fingers busy with her switch.

You listen, firing the bullet again. It makes a bullseye.

"Thank you, Chiaki," You smile. "Have they ever sent you for field work?"

"Once," She pauses. "I came back disgusted. It's too much for me."

"Understandable," You lift the gun from the table and reload, watching the timer count down. You fire all six bullets, throwing the gun back onto the table. "Was it the interaction?"

"Everything," She hums. "The makeup... everything about it was awful. How do you guys do it?"

"We grow used to it," You smile. "Sometimes, it's much more fun to pretend to be someone else. It relieves the guilt that you;re a bad person."

"Does it?" She stares at you, pausing her game. "Or is it an excuse?"

"An excuse, obviously," You laugh. "What's the next mission?"

"You're being sent in," She hums. "The target is a seventy-year-old man within the top of the corporation who's been funding the entire despair situation. He's into big tits and pretty women. That's why we're sending you instead of Komaeda. There was a warning that he might sexually harass you at any given point, so they told you to watch out for that."

"What do I need to pry from him?"

"They recently sent a couple thousand troops to the other side as part of an agreement. Either find out where he put the contract or the details of the contract itself." Chiaki goes back to her game. "He's also into cuckholding. Komaeda is going with you."

"So we pretend to date and then get the man to fuck me in front of Komaeda?"

"No. The two of you are going to fight and then from Kamukura's prediction, the old man's going to swoop in and pretend to be your knight in shining armor," Chiaki pauses. "We can always send you alone."

"I have no problem with it. I'm just wondering what kind of a hissy fit Komaeda's going to throw." You stare at the door, pausing. "Would it be strange to say I'm a little scared?"

"No," Chiaki mumbles. "Hinata almost turned it down if it weren't for the first division chief stepping in."

"He wants me on the job?"

"No one else was willing to do it," Chiaki finishes the game. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," You mumble. "Files?"

"Hinata has them."

Hinata helps you get ready for the mission, helping you secure the wig. You stare at yourself in the mirror. You don't feel that real. You wonder if Komaeda's having the time of his life knowing he gets to argue with you in public. The script had already been decided. You just hoped he didn't improvise and drive you to actual tears. The role you were assigned was a gentle girl who was easily swayed. An airhead, to put it kindly.

"Ready?" Komaeda holds his arm out for you, and you smile at him.

The two of you step into the car, and Hinata sighs. "Do you remember what you two argue over?"

"My spending habits," You chew on your bottom lip.

"Don't do that," Komaeda scorns, pulling your lip from your teeth. "It's going to ruin your makeup."

You pout. "I thought you didn't care about me."

"I care about the mission, not you," Komaeda rolls his eyes, looking out the window.

"This is Number eight! Checking, one, two!" Chiaki's voice rings from your earrings.

"Loud and clear," Komaeda nods.

"Received!" You grin. The ear climber is a little uncomfortable, but it's incredibly ornamental. It's detailed to the point that it's hard to tell it's an earpiece. You're decorated from head to toe, a skimpy dress hugging the figure of your body. You look like you're there to mingle. You look like you yield from money. It's like you're sent instead of your family. But you weren't the one that mattered. Komaeda was the star of the show for the day. After he argues with you at the auction, he has to find the man's wife to hold her off. It was known that she was territorial.

Komaeda steps out of the car first, glancing around, opening your door to escort you out. You smile at him prettily, dazzling the crowd. The photographers click their cameras, catching your every move and expression. The supposed daughter of a high-end conglomerate business owner and the son of a wealthy family. A scoop that definitely caught the eye of the public. It was a carefully orchestrated show.

You rest your hand on Komaeda's arm, walking down the carpet with him. The two of you wave and smile at the cameras until you enter the room and sit at your designated seats. The two of you pretend to chat, and Komaeda glances at the male.

"Which gems did you want today, baby?" He smiles.

"Oh, you know," You sigh dreamily. "That ocean sapphire is really pretty. Oh! And the hope diamond. But it's alright, I don't exactly want either one."

Komaeda frowns. "Anything else?"

"Mm... the despair ruby is really pretty... it reminds me of your eyes," You beam. "Surely we can get that one?"

Komaeda feels the irritation crawl up his neck. It's annoying. You're annoying. You're way too good at this whole faking thing. When he finally gets to yell at you during the auction, you burst into tears nearly immediately. Your acting catches him off guard. Your tears make him want to stop yelling and comfort you, yet he continues. Why'd you bid the gem for so high? It was so expensive! Just because you're the daughter of some high-end conglomerate business owner doesn't mean you can bid as you please!

You run off in tears, and the entire auction house watches as Komaeda sits back down.

The man in the back excuses himself from his wife, and he chases after the runaway. Komaeda watches the man leave his seat, and he adjusts his ring. Chiaki lets you know that the man was coming. Komaeda wins the bid for the ruby, and Hinata signals that he's ready when he is. All that's left is to wait for you.

You blow your nose dreadfully in the hall. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, yet you still somehow look gorgeous.

"Oh, sugar, what's wrong?" The man hands you a handkerchief, and you wipe your nose gently.

"My boyfriend," You sniff. "He's just... so mean sometimes..."

You sniffle, recalling Hinata's words to you.

The role you played used to be his mistress before she left him for her current boyfriend. Despite being ditched, he still liked her. You could tell. The makeup they put you in made you look ethereal. You could probably never have to do a thing with a face like this.

"I'm sorry, sugar," He mumbles. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Can I... sit with you?" You mumble pitifully.

"Of course."

He agrees without a second thought, and Chiaki sends the signal for Hinata to start moving. Komaeda sits around in the auction house, visibly annoyed.

You follow the man back, and the two of you start chatting. You talk about everything, and halfway through, they catch wind of where the document was. Hinata moves quickly, Chiaki letting you know it was alright for you to head off whenever you wanted. You continue in the conversation with him, and he keeps pestering you.

"Come on, I know you can tell your dad to lend me a helping hand." He places his hand on yours.

"I know," You smile. "I'll talk to him."

"Can't you call him?"

"He's in a business meeting right now," You frown. "Daddy doesn't answer me when he's doing business."

He frowns. "Come on. Just try? For me. Please."

You frown, and Komaeda glances up at you from his booth. Troublesome bitch.

You're about to answer him, and the door to his booth opens.

"What are you doing whoring around with your ex-sugar daddy?" Komaeda scoffs, grabbing your wrist and yanking you out of your seat. "I thought you said you didn't like him anymore."

"But-"

"We're leaving," He drags you out, practically sprinting down the hall. You yelp as he finally slows down, and you rub your wrist. "Why didn't you leave?"

"Did it look like I could?!" You wince, rubbing your wrist. "that man was practically all over me!"

"Tch," He starts walking again, and you follow after him. The two of you meet Hinata in the car and enter.

"You alright? Chiaki said she heard you yelping." Hinata turns to stare at you.

"Not a big deal," You smile half-heartedly. "Am I needed for tomorrow's event?"

"No," Hinata shakes his head. "Why?"

"My wrist might've bruised." You grimace. "Darling, can you fix it for me?"

"Roger," His voice answers through the metal.

"Komaeda, why'd you grab her so hard?"

"She wasn't leaving."

"She was held up! Didn't you see?" He sighs, heading back to the office. "Report is due in two days. Kamukura deals with those, so just sit down with him for that stuff."

"Got it." You nod.

"Komaeda, tomorrow's event is for you." Hinata hands him the files, and he flips through them. You stare at Komaeda, and you reach for his back. He gets ready to yell, and the sound of a crunch is heard in the car. The two stare at you, and you hold a broken bug in your hand.

"Komaeda got bugged."

"How?!" Komaeda hisses. "I didn't feel anything!"

"You don't need to," You grumble. "Chiaki, the machine code is N89173. Can you hack it?"

"That much is expected of me," She hums. "I'll log off to hack properly, though. Meet you back home."

"See you," You hear her click off the earpiece.

"How'd you tell?"

"My ears hurt," You mumble. "The static from this brand of bug is pretty loud. I've been trained to hear them."

"What kind of an excuse-"

"That's enough," Kamukura's voice rings on the line. "Komaeda, I have something here that Hinata printed out for you. Hurry up, the three of you."

"Got it!"

If you had to cherry-pick words to describe Komaeda, it'd be rich, brazen, and hot.

There's no denying that he was one of the hottest workers in the future foundation for ages. He's still attractive, even with your addition into the company. He still went for the majority of the missions that required a male, and you spent most of the time inside keeping track of him. Occasionally they send you with him, but ever since the bruise, they had cut down the number significantly. You wonder what you did wrong to offend him like that.

In Komaeda's words, you didn't do anything.

You're not sure you believe him.

"To the right," Hinata glances at your form, and you adjust it accordingly.

The bullet makes a bullseye.

"Thank you, Hinata-san," You smile. "Is there a chance that I have a mission soon?"

"Yeah," He shakes the file in his hand. "This time, they want someone who looks eerily similar to you. Except they're into men, and Komaeda's too tall to be her boyfriend."

"Ah?" You pause. "A girl into shorter men?"

"Sounds hard to believe, huh?" Hinata laughs. "But yes. Not short, though. The target height is just average. Komaeda's over 180cm."

"For someone who slouches at all times other than on a mission, he sure is tall," You reload the gun.

"He's taller than me." Hinata chuckles. "I stopped growing after high school. He didn't."

"How tall is he?"

"We haven't done this year's physical yet," Hinata hums. "Last time I checked... he was almost 190cm."

You gawk at him. "So... how big is he."

"What."

"How... big is he... you know?" You gesture at your crotch.

Hinata throws the file at you, barely missing your face.

Your makeup is light this time around, making sure you match the picture given. Komaeda's the one to do it. You probably would've liked Kamukura better, but you weren't complaining. His fingers were just a little cold. Though, they felt nice on your skin. It almost made you forget that he hated you. He's strangely gentle with you despite his sentiment.

"Look down," He brushes your lashes, and he pauses.

You're pretty. You look like everything the makeup makes him look like, and it fills his chest with a sense of tightness. He doesn't like it.

"What's wrong?" You open an eye to stare at him, and he sighs.

You never got an answer.

You escort the woman, hair pulled back and smile charming. Komaeda watches from the glasses on your head next to Chiaki, and Hinata reports from the side. Your words are smooth, painting the woman in a light. Komaeda feels his heart ram against his chest as you whisper honey into her ears. You smile at her lovingly. Almost naturally. too naturally

Komaeda bites on his tongue as you get risky with her. It felt weird; It felt wrong. His breathing grows heavier.

"Is that so?" You giggle. "I heard your dad still didn't approve of us..."

"He's almost there," She mumbles. "So? How has business been?"

"It's been fine," You smile. "So? How has your deal been?"

"Ah..." She smiles sadly. "Daddy wants to marry me to Ms. Enoshima's boyfriend. It was her suggestion too."

You frown. "I'm sorry, love. Shall we run away together? I have a mansion out by the sea."

"She would find us," She smiles sadly.

"And if I told you there was a way for me to reverse the proposal?" You clasp her hands, immersing yourself completely into the character. "Please? I just need the details of the deal."

She hesitates, and she spills everything out of her lips. In between, you press gentle kisses to her cheeks and hands, assuring her that it would be ok. Komaeda wants to take off the headset while you do. You're disgusting. Kissing a girl to comfort her while you were using her? How cruel of you. He supposed that he wasn't much different, yet the difference was because it was you. How repulsive.

"It'll get better," Komaeda hears you press another kiss on her. "Shall I make you feel better?"

He freezes as he hears a quiet yes from the girl.

He stares at Chiaki, and she nods. Komaeda takes off the headphones and walks out to the balcony for a breath of air. You're irritating. You act so well that even he believed you were in love with her for a moment. How strange of you. How strange of him. Why was he even bothered to begin with? It wasn't like Komaeda liked you or anything... right?

Chiaki ends the call as you finish knocking the girl out, and Hinata tells her to rest.

"Nagito?"

"Hm?" He glances at Chiaki.

"Are you in love with Y/n?"

"Huh-"

"You've been all bothered by them ever since they joined," She pauses, unsure whether or not to say the next part. "And... Kamukura said he sensed lust from you when you first met them."

Komaeda freezes.

"Though," Chiaki stares at the moon. "It doesn't matter. I just hope the two of you would sort it out."

"Two of us?"

"Ugh," Your voice is heard through the glass. "I'm showering first. I can't believe I had to finger someone for a mission. She was hot, but still-"

Komaeda hears you storm off and the shower turn on, and he stares at Hinata.

"They..."

"Yeah," Hinata sighs. "They did. It wasn't the whole way, but the drug didn't kick in until the foreplay ended."

Komaeda winces.

It's not a pleasant feeling, having the taste of someone else on your lips. He remembers washing the flavor off his tongue in the shower, rinsing and rinsing until there was nothing left. The desperation to feel like yourself again after playing the role of someone else. You aren't new to the situation, yet it felt like you never got used to how things were supposed to be.

"Anything else?"

"They snatched the engagement ring out of spite," Hinata holds up a ring. "Apparently they have a crush on Junko's boyfriend."

"What?"

"Didn't you read it? They used to work under the same corporation as her boyfriend," Hinata hums. "The same one that produced Kamukura?"

"That one?"

"Yeah."

Komaeda furrows his brows. "Then how come they rushed to wash the taste off?"

"It tasted like Matsuda," You exit the bathroom, a towel on your shoulder. "Do you know what that man tastes like? He tastes like Junko on a bad day. Do you think I would want the taste of Junko to linger in my mouth? No fucking thank you."

Your tongue is clean as hell.

"I see..." Komaeda shudders. "I'm kind of glad I don't need to experience that."

"She was cheating on her boyfriend with Matsuda," You grumble. "Junko was the one to suggest the marriage because at once glance she could tell that Matsuda hated her guts and would divorce her once the plan finished. Am I needed tomorrow?"

"No," Hinata sighs. "Today was our last mission. Our next one is in a week."

You sigh in relief. "I'm going to bed."

"Before that," Chiaki looks up from her phone. "You two."

She nudges Komaeda.

"Talk."

"About?"

"Our next mission requires the two of you to work super closely," Hinata pauses.

"In what way?"

Kamukura is the one to speak up. "You two aren't going in to collect information. It's a whole set up by the foundation to reveal the rats in the corporation. The two of you are going to be fucking in one of the offices."

"I'm sorry we're going to do wHAT?!" You yell.

"You guys don't need to," Hinata points out. "but the two of you have to at least look like you're in love."

"Can't we just do it on the spot?" Komaeda raises a brow.

"Naegi suspects that the chairman is one of them," Hinata sighs. "So we're trying to get everyone to end up as genuine as possible."

"He hates me." You point at Komaeda.

He doesn't give you a response.

Komaeda doesn't actually hate you. In his own words, he just found you irritating to be around. There was something about you that rubbed his skin the wrong way. Yet as he's looking up at you, lips parted and eyes half-lidded, he wonders how you were so sly. He had been scorning you for being a whore, yet you had used it against him. You had smiled at him so cheekily, taking advantage of his fuzzy mind to drive him mad with desire. Ah. How disgusting of you.

He moans into the kiss as you press yourself against his body. He shifts underneath you, and you bite his bottom lip. He pants, mind somewhere else. It seemed as though you did know what you were doing. He yelps as your knee presses against his bulge, and he hunches over, lips parting to give you more access to him. You suck on his tongue, Komaeda's mind spacing out.

"Hm?" You pull away from him, batting your lashes prettily. "Did you cum from kissing alone? I didn't know you were that much of a virgin... Komaeda-san."

"Sh-shut up," He pants, hiding his face. He glances down at the stain on his pants.

"Hm?" You pout. "I thought you said I was no good."

Komaeda hisses as you lean into him, and he closes his eyes as your lashes flutter.

"Y/n? Komaeda?" Hinata's voice rings outside the door, and you smile mischievously.

"Yes?" You sing back, slipping your fingers past Komaeda's lips to gag him.

"We have a meeting in a couple of minutes." He sighs. "Get dressed before then."

"Of course!" You smirk at him.

"Do you know where Komaeda is?"

"I think he went out for some air? Maybe the training room. He's always in there anyways," You slip your fingers out, and Komaeda whimpers at the loss of contact.

"whore," You mouth at Komaeda, and Hinata sighs.

"Both of you be there. I better not see drool on Komaeda's shirt,"

"Got it," You sing.

Komaeda's eyes harden in contempt, and you giggle airily. "Mad?"

He struggles in your grasp, and he huffs. "You just proved me right."

"Right?" You grin. "But you don't know if I've done with with anyone else before... unless you stalk me?"

Komaeda sighs as you let go of him and open the door to the smoking-room.

"You know," Chiaki glances up from her laptop. "You're really loud."

"Really?" You tilt your head in confusion. You hardly made any noise.

"Not you," Chiaki tilts her head to look behind you. "Him."

Komaeda exhales heavily. "Well someone wasn't exactly trying to make me sound quiet."

"I assure you," She puts the GameBoy down. "The president will definitely fall for it if the two of you are like that the day itself."

"Perfect," You beam. "Shall we go?"

"Mhm." You grab Komaeda's wrist, dragging him to the conference room.

You suppose that riling Komaeda up the entire time before the operation should be fine. Maybe he'll get even more fidgety on the day of the mission. Well, to be fair, there are a lot of things he could be because of you, but you pray fidgety is the answer. Praying.

It is not.

Komaeda has you up on the desk, clothes wrinkled and makeup smeared. You're not sure if anything else is ruined, but you can't really find it in yourself to care.

Komaeda just kissed you stupid.

Rude bastard.

You rest your head on his chest, and you pant. You can hear the smirk in Komaeda's breathing.

"What was it about me being a whore?"

You smack him lightly, words slipping out. "Only whores would kiss that good."

"Ah, then, aren't both of us whores?" He hums, lowering his lips to yours. "Chairman's outside."

"I hope you suffer," You grumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, forcing him back down.

Komaeda thinks differently this time around. He likes you. He had been too busy being envious over how much prettier you were than him to stop and think why he was even envious to begin with. He finds it kind of amusing when you look a disheveled mess under him. He wondered if you thought of him the same way. He leans in again, and Hinata's voice cuts him off.

"S detained." He calls. "K is no longer in the area."

You push Komaeda off of you, and you hurl over the sink.

Komaeda furrows his brows as you start throwing up.

"Y/n?"

"Meds," You cough. "Purse."

Komaeda rummages through the purse.

"There isn't anything."

"You're on," You gasp. "Anti-anxiety meds too, right? Just give two pills to me."

Komaeda pulls out his own meds and hands them to you. You swallow with the sink water. The corner of your eyes burns with tears, and your throat scratches itself. You slouch against the wood, waiting for the medicine to kick in. If it didn't, you'd need to up the dosage again. Ah, but his meds were sure strong. They've gotta be at least the same strength as your previous dosages.

Komaeda stands to the side, looking to the side. It wasn't uncommon that people in the industry took medicine because of the memories from missions; Though, he had never seen someone take his dosage without passing out. You sway on your feet, blinking to regain your vision. It's a bit weaker than you'd like it to be, but you suppose it works.

"Y/n?"

"What brand of SSRIs are those?" You turn around, wiping the fluid from your lips.

"They're the ones they make here," Komaeda purses his lips. "I've never seen anyone take them without passing out."

"Mine are a bit stronger than that," You huff.

"Komaeda, Y/n, are you two alright?" Chiaki's voice rings in your ears. "I heard throwing up."

"I'm fine," you report back, voice cheery.

You're not. Komaeda sees the spillover written all over your face. You look disgusted at yourself.

"The party is ending in five minutes," Chiaki mumbles. "If you two want, you can head back first."

"Thank you, Nanami-san," You sing. Komaeda stares at the dreadfulness all over your face. She disconnects, and you blink at the window. The skyline isn't as pretty as usual. It would make sense. After all, you are on the banquet floor. It was rare enough that this floor was used. You wondered if Kamukura really caught them like Hinata said he did. Well, it wouldn't matter. As long as you didn't somehow end up back where you came from, it would be fine.

"Shall I take you for some air?" Komaeda offers.

"Sure," You follow after him, the two of you leaving the floor. You lean against the elevator wall, and Komaeda glances at you. You look vulnerable. He could take advantage of you at any point of the entire way up, and you'd be helpless. He wondered if you were used to that. You look like you've used your body more than you let off. Well, it wasn't like he never did either.

"Have you ever had someone violate you?" You stare at the elevator door open, out at the rooftop.

"Yeah," He leads you out, helping you to the bench. You rock gently, eyes distant.

"Come sit," You pat the seat next to you, and Komaeda sits.

"I take pretty strong meds," You pause. "And I also had my memories altered before I came here."

Komaeda glances at you.

"Matsuda's an asshole but he's not heartless," You hum. "He erased the majority of the flashbulb memories involved with my missions. I take meds because I'm an easily anxious person."

Komaeda stares at the building across the roof. "I see."

"He was supposed to erase the ability to love with it," You turn to him, grinning. "Guess who found out the hard way that he failed?"

Komaeda stops breathing, turning to stare at you. "Is it Hinata? He's sweet-"

"Komaeda," You deadpan. "I'm into hot people. The only two hot people by standards are you and I. I'm not enough of a narcissist to be in love with myself. I like you, dumbass."

The male turns red, turning to the side, ears burning with embarrassment.

"I'm only confessing now because I realized that you stopped hating me" You kick one leg over the other, and Komaeda pauses.

The stars pause with him. The sounds of the city are drowned out by the sound of his heart fighting his chest, and his lips part. He doesn't have the words. They're stuck in his throat. He watches you get up, his heart stopping. He grabs your wrist before anything comes out, and his eyes widen in fear. It's scary. Are you leaving him too? Were you playing him? Ah, it seemed you were lying. Were you lying? Would his feelings scare you off?

You stare at him, and his words form slowly.

"I... like you too," He swallows. "A lot. I feel as though my heart is going to burst every time I'm around you. I... I'm sorry for being mean to you at first."

You smile at him.

"I'm glad."

Extra:

"They realize we can hear them... right?" Hinata deadpans from the living room.

"Shush," Chiaki hushes, invested. "I wanna hear."

Kamukura hands her a bowl of popcorn and sits beside her, staring at the screen.

Hinata laughs dryly, and Chiaki's eyes glisten as she listens.

"HE CONFESSED BACK!"

#komaeda x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda x reader #danganronpa x reader #sdr2 x reader #sdra2 x reader #☾.nsfw #☾.fics

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 1 year

Note

It's always hard to find people nice like you are, even online.

But yeah, I was just wanting to see anyone you wanna write for in Jujutsu Kaisen, Obey Me! or My Hero Academia, it dpesn't matter to me. But the reader is trans man and is usually used to getting missgendered and rude comments but he just kinda had a shit day and it hurt him more than usual.

Just a little comfort and protective boyos if you don't mind~

And do remember to drink some water and take care of yourself!!

I really didn't know who to start with here, but in the end I went with Kirishima from My Hero, seeing as I couldn't think of anyone more comforting than him.

I hope it's okay, let me know what you think!

It's like a sixth sense of his, when he knows enough is enough.

One look is all it took for him to know that (Y/N)'s overloading at the barked slurs from a few ignorant pricks.

Kirishima knows his boyfriend's strong as anyone can get, he knows (Y/N)'s dealt with shit he can't even think of, and it breaks his heart to imagine his partner in those situations.

Back then, Kiri hadn't been there, and damned if he'd let it happen now, when he's right across the street.

(Y/N)'s never been ashamed of his identity, and his fans love him the way he is. For many, he's an inspiration, relatable and fearless.

Red Riot doesn't hear the exact words being thrown at (H/N) by a bunch of ignorant teens, he doesn't care, because (Y/N)'s had the week from Hell, and he's not about to let it get any worse.

'Hey! Nobody asked your opinion. Take yourselves the hell outta my boyfriend's personal space.'

(Y/N) looked up at him, releasing a sigh of relief as Red Riot's out of character frown had people running. His entire demeanor is usually so sunny, it must have looked like quite a sight to see him so serious.

To (Y/N), it's a comfort, broad shoulders set and strong in his defence. Kirishima would never, ever hurt him, all of that strength is purely for cuddles.

Oh, and, you know, fighting crime.

'Hey, you okay baby?'

Kirishima turned his back on the world, guarding (Y/N) from prying eyes as he fights back emotions, forcing himself to breathe deep as he nodded slowly.

The redhead opened his arms, quietly letting his lover settle his forehead against his collarbone.

(Y/N) didn't need to say a word, he never has, not with Kiri. Ever since UA, he's gone out of his way to understand (Y/N), respecting boundaries and being so damn perfect there was no way not to fall for him.

'M fine, just...tired.'

Tired of so many things, tired of it all at once, tired of not being tired.

Eijirou glared off anyone who even looked at him, quietly stroking (Y/N)'s hair as he gathered himself. 'We'll head home when you're ready.'

'But patrol's not over for another hour!' (Y/N) suddenly shot straight, the weight of responsibility piled on to anxiety until he was ready to snap.

'Hey, easy. The rest of the world will be fine without us. They've got Deku, and Dynamight, and Shoto and all the other awesome heroes you and I graduated with. Right now, you need home, and I need to see that handsome smile of yours, so we're heading home, kay?'

He always knows what to say, smiling as he cups (Y/N)'s cheeks, stroking them tenderly with his thumbs.

(Y/N) relaxed, lost in soulful eyes as the rest of the world just melted.

'Yeah, okay. Thank you, Eiji.'

He laughed, lighting the world as he threw his arm around his lover, eagerly guiding them home. 'You don't have to thank me baby, I've always got your back, against anything.'

#my hero academia #my hero academia comfort #ftm #tw homophobia #tw disphoria #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima x male reader

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pachu09 · 1 year

Text

So...

I'm not really a Fan of Horror. I can survive reading it but watching it specifically? Let's just say I'm the kind of person who literally gets sick when the scenes are jumps scares or you know several people died....

Anyways, sorry for getting derailed...

But I do know how to think up Horror plots, I think this is the first time I will post something like this. I have a bunch of Horror plots but they're uhhh...gathering dust somewhere in my phone storage. This plot was also posted on my Discord so the members there already knows what this story is about...

Don't be surprised if some of the things down below are familiar. They are literally inspired by the many horror films/stories I forced myself to watch/read ( I know I'm an idiot for doing it but whatever 😅 )

MadaTobi

Modern, Horror AU

The story will start from the POV of an OC who rented a very nice apartment but was baffled when he found a survival guide written by the previous tenant named...

Senju Tobirama

The letter was written like this....

To the New Tenant ...

Firstly, if you are a brave one I guess welcome to your new home. But if you aren't, please do what I have listed down so that you can survive living in this apartment for even a month. And if you do survive, leave behind this accursed building and never ever look back.

I lived here before you and I only lasted a year. I cannot tell you where I am but I know I won't survive after I finished writing this letter. Creatures that had been lurking in this apartment complex had been waiting for me to join them ever since I step inside this building. Jokes on these creatures because I would kill myself first before they can get their disgusting hands on me.

Anyway, I am getting derailed...

I pass this knowledge to you so that you and any other future tenant won't be the victim of this accursed place.

You think at first this apartment would be a wonderful home and at first it may seem like it. But a day later you will know that its far from not. If you want to survive and get out of this apartment alive; then there are some steps you need to strictly follow.

1. You will never have a problem with the landlord. As long as you pay him on time he will never grace your doorstep with his accursed presence. I have only dealt with him once for my 6th month of tenancy and let’s just say I never missed a day of payment again. If you need any repairs never ever talk with the landlord; speak to the agent you have a deal with and you'll be fine.

2. NEVER EVER use the communal elevator between 12.12 and 4.44 am. Just please don’t do it. I cannot stress this enough. And I cannot write it down in fear that I don't have enough time to explain everything properly. But please, heed my words and you'll never regret it.

3. If you heard a knock on your window at the dead of the night; never open the curtains and peer out. You will lose your sanity if you saw what's out there.

4. Please never leave any of your food out. Even from your pets ( if you have any? ). Something will come visit you if you don't clean up properly and it will take what it deemed what is most valuable to you.

5. If you hear any strange animal noises coming from the apartment below you. Please don’t question it, Akabane–san lives there and he’s a nice man. Say hello to him when you see him so that he won't find you rude. If the noises started at the dead of the night. Never ever check up on him if you want to live.

6. The damp patch on the kitchen ceiling will never go away. Never complain it to the landlord. Remember rule number 1?. Yeah just don't do it. Don't even try to clean it or else the owner of it will make its presence known and again you will be in deep shit.

7. Never communicate with people who claim to be living in the sixth floor. Tenant, there is no sixth floor in this building. The number of the floor goes straight up to 7th. Not 6th. ( find the building history I had tape into one of the bedroom floor boards to know what happened to the 6th floor ). Shut and lock the door and use the three dead bolts I installed if someone came knocking to your door and try to talk to you. Those fuckers will be persistent....ready any weapons you have in case they try to enter your apartment. Oh and make sure you line every window and doors with salt. And put some on your weapons too I guess...

8. Weapons are within arms reach at all times. Sometimes things tend to slip through your notice even if you remain vigilant.

9. There is a committee for this building. You can join if you want, but most of them would never help you especially if you are the next victim.

10. Don't pet the fluffy cats ( or any other animal ) that will roam the hallways building. They are beyond evil and I will never ever forgive them. For they are the ones that had deliver me to the Devil itself.

11. The mailman who is name Hikaku is sort of an ally. How you treat him will increase your survival in this place. But for me, his help was a little too late. He tried his best but I guess because he's a Human he can never betray his own Masters..

12. Finally, if you managed to survived within the three weeks time frame. Congratulations, for surviving. But beware. Make sure all of your stuff is with you when you leave this place. Not a single thing you own should be left behind. Or else its game over, you'll be back to square one and you don't want that, ever.

If you're back to square one there are only three options that is waiting for you. Either you kill yourself first, you got eaten by the entities here or be one of the tenants who never leave.

The last tenant,

Senju Uchiha Tobirama

#madatobi #horror au #uchiha madara #senju tobirama #I collected most of the rules from horror stories I read and heard throughout the years #my favorite is 4 6 & 7 #they're inspired by a local folktale/urban tale? in my country

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starsfic · 2 years

Note

I have a challenge prompt for you, should you choose to accept it (also sorry if I’m asking in the wrong place or something, I’m new to tumblr and don’t quite know how this stuff works so kinda just winging it cause like your stuff ok anyway). Basically, there are lots of of side characters that don’t get a lot of attention in the fanbase, or at least I don’t see them that often, that I think could be interesting if given the chance. Basically….

I challenge you to make a small fic including but not limited to….. Ao Guang, Scorpion Queen, Goldfish Demon, Ao Guang’s attendant, and Blue Bowl Cut Boy (the one who repeatedly encounters Red Son’s family).

Any format ya want, make ‘em work together or fight each other, I just wanna see these guys get some fic action (this isn’t a ship fic request btw, just in case you were wondering). Again apologies if there’s anything wrong with the request or anything like that.

Ok have a nice day! :D

So, my Discord has been taking to calling the shoe store attendant Fanfu.

This had been a week in Fanfu’s life.

First, his store had been surprisingly successful, considering he had only set up shop in Lán Dēng Chéng a little bite ago. Next, the Monkie Kid of all people had asked him some questions (and Fanfu regretted not recognizing him sooner). Then the city had been consumed by weird bone-ice-crystal stuff before it suddenly exploded everywhere and people were freed.

Now, Fanfu was stuck cleaning up around his shop.

The bluenette sighed in relief as the last bit of stuff disappeared from the sidewalk in front of his stand. He grabbed the dustpan and emptied it into the nearest trash can. Now! All he had to do was restock and-

“Cut the crap, Línggǎn Dàwáng.” An icy voice cut through his relief. Fanfu turned in time to see an angry-looking woman push away…a fish? “Otherwise, your master will be informed of where you are.” The weird green fish in the robot suit looked nervous as she looked around.

Their eyes met.

Fanfu turned but it was too late. The woman was stalking towards him, a frown set on her face. “You.” she barked.

He took a breath and turned back towards her. Oh great. She was a demon, based on the green scales lining her face. He had dealt with way too many demons these past two years. “Yes?” he said, biting back a wince. “I’m sorry, but my stand isn’t-”

She scoffed. “We’re not interested in your petty mortal goods.” First off, rude. And second of all, we? Fanfu was almost temped to see if she also had a massive demon flanking her. “We’re looking for someone.”

Oh. Maybe missing family? Fanfu took a deep breath. “I’m not sure how much help I can be, but let me see.”

“My great-niece.” An older, regal voice spoke. The woman stiffened up before bowing, stepping back to allow an older man forward. The man also had the green scales lining his face, but there was something else, crackling under the man’s white robes. Or those might’ve just been the bandages peeking out. He pulled out a picture and Fanfu leaned forward, taking a look.

The young woman with dual pigtails and green framing her face was instantly familiar, much longer than the Monkie Kid. “Oh, that’s Long Xiaojiao! She and the Monkie Kid were by my stand a few weeks ago or so.”

The moment he said that, the man seemed to relax. “So, she survived getting here,” he said, seemingly more to himself. “Do you know where she went after that?”

Fanfu shrugged. “I heard something about the city’s talent show and then boarding the rail but that’s about it.” He pulled out his phone. “Do you mind if I check something?” The man nodded as the woman scoffed. “I heard rumors…”

There.

“But the rail crashed a few hours after the talent show.” He turned it so the man could see the article. The man stiffened at the picture someone had snapped of some kind of jet slamming into the train car. “Apparently, something crashed into it.”

“WHAT?!”

Fanfu nearly jumped a foot in the air as a pretty young woman shoved the older woman aside. “The train…” She blinked at their baffled expressions and cleared her throat. Something was equally off about this girl, dressed in a beautiful purple dress, but he wasn’t going to go digging. “Was there a man with them? Glasses, wearing a red scarf?”

Fanfu had to pause for a moment and think. “Uh, yeah. He was with them.” He tapped onto the next article. “If this is right, they survived and then the mountain exploded.”

The two’s jaws dropped.

“Mountain-”

“Explosion?”

“Yeah! Here’s a video!” Fanfu pulled up the video and let it play. It was weird and shaky, from a distance, but he could still see the weird monkey robot and then the explosion of purple flames. The moment it ended, he pulled it away. “But, again, that was a few weeks ago.” Something popped into mind. “Uh, have you tried calling them?”

The man looked suddenly guilty. The woman, in contrast, facepalmed. “Of course,” she grumbled as she pulled out a pink phone. “Silly me.” She typed in a number and then waited as it rang. Fanfu could hear someone pick up and then she was talking. “Tang! Hi, yeah, it’s Scorpion. I just wanted to check in and see if you were alive…” She started walking away.

The old man blinked. “Wait!” he hissed, taking off after the young woman. The older woman blinked before following him. Fanfu was left blinking.

He sighed, tucking his phone away. Weird people.

This had been a week in Fanfu’s life.

#my writing #LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Shoe Store Attendant #Dragon Attendant #Scorpion Queen #Ao Guang #Goldfish Spirit #Guang: I do not have my great niece's phone number.#prompt fill #prompt fic #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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the-night-before-we-met · 2 years

Text

I've been extremely busy yet bored lately so I just read various headcanons n stuff

meaning that I got into castlevania again (and blood of zeus)

I like headcanons with specific readers but I didn't find any were although there is a traumatic back story the reader stands up and becomes somewhat like their parents (especially inheriting anger issues and a short temper)

so here are some head cannons of a reader who is rude and angry at first but in actuality a really nice person when they don't feel threatened by the mere presence of people :)

Trevor:

●he'll probably get into fights along side you or with you (also probably met at a bar fight)

●extremely shocked when you finally get comfortable with him and you're actually very chill

●still making small rude jokes about him but he doesn't mind

●later on, after you tell him stories about your family here and there, does he realise why you're so aggressive upfront

Alucard:

●he sees your anger when you fight/study and things aren't going how you planned (surprised that despite being angry you're not a sore loser)

●actually extremely sweet and understanding but with a short temper that he's curious about how it came to be

●thoroughly enjoys have matches of mean jokes/comments with you

●gets very sad when he learns that your family pushed their anger onto you to the point this is your coping mechanism

Isaac:

●finds your passive aggressiveness humours at worse

●sees right through that it's not who you really are and wants to know the real you

●makes a point of taking you on trips to show you different things and get a real reaction out of you

●is very interested in your past (as long as you are comfortable telling him)

Hector:

●you'll probably just make snarky comments here and there since he isn't the type to get in your business

●probably caught you petting one of his monsters and babying it

●for the rest of the week he'd teas you about it nonstop, calling you a softie (ended up with his ass kicked but promised to let you pet them more often)

●actually very enamoured with how soft you are with his night creatures

Dracula:

●amazed you didn't get into more trouble than you already did by the way you are acting

●conflicted whether to see you as a misbehaving kid or a bitter old person

●actually told that to your face, pissing you off, so you told him "I suppose you dealt with a misbehaved kid but I'll guess you know how a bitter old person acts from your own experience" (insert evil grin right before being chased around the castle)

●he means well and actually does try to help you get past this anger

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #trevor belmont #isaac castlevania #hector #hector castlevania #alucard #alucard castlevania #dracula castlevania

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crowley-fe11 · 9 months

Text

Christmas Escape

You both like Ineffable Husbands, and Ineffable wives.

Stranger: [18+; Human AU, College AU, TW//Homophobia; Aziraphale invited Crowley to spend Christmas with him at his family's house, so he didn't have to spend it alone. During family dinner, his parents and his brother Gabriel said some pretty homophobic things. It caused Crowley to run out on them] Crowley, dear, where have you gone? -A

You: Oh, y'know. Just needed some air. C

Stranger: Right, yes, quite. I understand, really. -A

You: [...] Mostly wanted to get away before I do or say something rude. C I'd hate to ruin Christmas for you. C

Stranger: I wouldn't have held it against you, Crowley. -A // I think I've taken over that role. -A

You: No, no. Not at all. I'll be fine if a few minutes. Just need to cool off a bit. C Still better than I would've dealt with back home. C

Stranger: I'm still terribly sorry you had to deal with this at all. -A // I suppose I was a little too hopefully, thinking they would behave with a guest over. I was so hopeful that this year would be different. -A

You: (brb)

You: It's not your fault. I know you always try to see the best in people. C [...] Maybe next year, we could just both have Christmas to ourselves? We can do our own thing, enjoy it. C Just an idea. C

Stranger: I just wanted to... I wanted to have christmas with you and have it be a nice one for once. I suppose that was naive. -A // Crowley, I'm not sure I can do that. -A

You: Why not? I mean, if your family makes you miserable, then why go there for what's supposed to be a happy occasion? C

Stranger: Because they will be terribly mad if I'm not here for Christmas. -A

You: I mean, I get why they might be upset. But your happiness matters, too. C

Stranger: They never cared about my happiness, dear. -A

You: I do. C

Stranger: I know you do, dear. Unfortunately you might be the only one. -A

You: Then let's celebrate it ourselves. C I can fake an emergency to keep you around next year, if your family gets nudgy about it. C

Stranger: [...] Crowley, I don't think they care much about emergencies. And I've had enough emotional and verbal abuse. Don't need to push it to... other things, again, as much as I want to spend Christmas with you. -A

You: Right, I get it. C But if they've been hurting you for this long, the only thing that helped me was leaving it all behind. C

Stranger: [Very Delayed] I'm terribly afraid of what they will do, if I leave. -A // On top of that, I don't have the funds to afford college. -A

You: Then if you need to hold off until we're done with school, then so be it. C What are you afraid they'll do? C

Stranger: So be it. -A // ... I'm afraid they will genuinely hurt me. -A

You: Like they'll get violent? C

Stranger: [Very Delayed] Possibly. -A

You: Listen, angel. You wouldn't be alone, if you ever decide to take that step. I'll be there for you, whatever you need. C We can look out for one another. C

Stranger: I really, really do appreciate that, dear. Unfortunately, I'm quite the coward. It wouldn't be the first time they raised their fist. -A

You: Oh, angel... C If they ever lay a hand on you again, it'll be the last time they have fucking hands. C

Stranger: Crowley, dear. I really don't want you to get in trouble for me. -A

You: Aziraphale, I will always be there for you, and I will protect you if you need it. C No one should ever hurt you like that. C

Stranger: I'm used to it, dear. Really. -A

You: That's no excuse. You deserve so much better. C

Stranger: [...] Why? -A // I'm not the perfect angel they wanted me to be. -A

You: How on earth aren't you a perfect angel? You're so kind to everyone you meet, and thoughtful, and you're so sweet and considerate. C You show the world kindness, and that makes you the most wonderful angel. C

Stranger: That isn't what they envision in a perfect angel. -A // They wanted a son that's obedient. That does as they say, works towards what they want him to. -A // And I'm not any of that. -A // ... Not even really a son... -A

You: You're your own person, and there's nothing wrong with that. C

Stranger: For them, there is. -A // I'm not what they wanted. -A // And I'm queer. God, that seems to be the biggest issue. -A

You: So am I! There's nothing wrong with that. C What they lack is an open mind to whatever doesn't fit into their cookie-cutter idea of existence. C

Stranger: Of course there's nothing wrong with it. At least, when it's not me... -A

You: You're allowed to be different. You're allowed to be yourself. C There is nothing wrong with you being queer. C

Stranger: [Very Delayed] I'm sorry I'm making you deal with all of this negativity. -A

You: You don't have to apologize for any of it. I'm here for you. C

Stranger: I just. -A // I feel horrible. -A // I really don't like myself. In fact... I think they managed to convince me to hate myself. -A // And I'm tired. Terribly tired. -A

You: Angel, there is plenty to like about you. I just think if you keep trying to make yourself fit other people's standards, then of course your going to be exhausted and miserable. C

Stranger: [...] They will hurt me, if I don't, Crowley. I'm tired of being berated, humiliated and hurt. -A

You: Look, we can figure things out if you want to get out. There are scholarships that I think you'd have no trouble getting. You can stay with me if it makes things easier. I just want you to be safe and happy. C

Stranger: And leech off of you? What if you grow tired of me as well? So far, everybody I've ever met has grown tired of me, eventually. -A

You: How could I ever grow tired of you? You're my closest friend, and I love having you around. C And I don't mind putting you up either. My late aunt left me my flat, so I don't owe anything except utilities. C

Stranger: [...] And you're... sure about this, Crowley? I... I won't be able to come back here, if I leave. -A

You: I'm sure about it from my end, but it's your call. It's a big decision, so it's no rush from me whether or not you go for it. C

Stranger: [Very Delayed] ... I'm tired, so tired of being beat up. I'm so tired of being hurt. I'm so tired of patching myself up over and over again. I'm going to break. I... I can't do this for much longer anymore, Crowley. -A // ... you're reaching a rope to a drowning person. -A // [...] And this isn't fair of me, not in the least, but... but please... save me. -A

You: We can leave tonight if you want to. My suitcase has pretty much stayed packed this whole time. C We'll head back to mine, get you settled in, and we'll figure the rest out, alright? C

Stranger: [...] Will you help me pack? -A

You: Absolutely. C

Stranger: You can't imagine how much this means to me. -A // This... might be the best Christmas present I have ever received. -A // ... freedom. -A

You: Then I'll meet you inside, and I'll help you get started. C Just getting to spend Christmas with you is enough of a present for me. C

Stranger: I have an actual present for you, too. -A

You: Same here, actually. C We can exchange them once we're away from here. C

Stranger: [...] If they notice I'm packing and they come for me, Crowley, please just... leave. -A

You: I'm not leaving you behind. That's out of the question. C

Stranger: I don't want them to hurt you. -A

You: And you shouldn't have to get hurt either. C If they notice us, just get to the car. C

Stranger: [...] Okay. We'll leave together, yeah? -A

You: Yes, together. C

#omegle rp #ineffable husbands rp #ineffable husbands #human au #ineffable partners #aziraphale #crowley #good omens rp #tw: homophobia #christmas #good omens

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womanofwords · 10 months

Text

STEM Kids Shenanigans (Chapter 17)

Chapter 17: Paint

Yujin was hiding in a toilet cubicle. Not how she was expecting to spend her morning break. Sure, being popular was nice, but this much was overwhelming. She literally got crowd surfed down the hallway over the accidental slime incident with Melanie!

So here she was, hiding desperately in the stench of the school toilets and hoping that nobody figured out that it was her from the way that she breathed or something trivial like that.

"Yujin, get out of there," a girl's voice said. Shoot! The gig was up, and she would have to face the mob. The mob of adoring fans, admittedly, but a mob nonetheless. Yujin came out and faced . . . Layla. How had she not recognized Layla's voice?

"How did you know I was in there?" Yujin asked.

"You were monologuing out loud," Layla said.

"Dammit," Yujin cursed, blushing.

"Enough about that. Why the hell are you hiding in a toilet cubicle?"

"I don't want to be ambushed by crowds of people. It's nice, but overwhelming."

"Ah. Social anxiety?"

"Yep."

"Then I'm staying here with you."

Yujin's eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm staying here with you."

"Really?" Yujin smiled uneasily. "What if it . . . conflicts with your plans?"

Layla scoffed. "I don't have any plans. So I guess we're staying here until the bell goes."

Yujin hugged her. "Thank you," she whispered.

Layla nodded. "Sure."

(PAUSE)

"I see the troublemakers are walking together," Melanie loudly remarked, as Layla and Yujin walked into art together.

"I see you managed to wash all the orange slime out of your hair," Layla retorted.

"Don't talk to me like that," Melanie hissed.

"Don't call us troublemakers then," Layla said. "Manners are free, you know." Yujin was awestruck as Layla took her to her seat and sat her down. "I may have told Melanie that manners are free, but so is rudeness. And I am a fan of both."

"Me too," Yujin admitted.

(PAUSE)

Yujin was walking to the library to check out a book when she saw Melanie berating Angelo. "Honestly, I think the fame is going to your head, Riva," she snapped. "You're showing absolutely no respect to anybody that deserves it."

"I am literally just sitting here," Angelo said.

"Ha! You don't even care to ask what you did wrong!" Melanie snapped.

"I don't even care any more. It's probably something exaggerated, like with everything else you get people in trouble for."

"I don't get anybody into any more trouble than they deserve!" Melanie looked Angelo up and down with a smirk. "And from the looks of things, I thin you could do with some time litter picking."

"Leave him alone!" Yujin snapped.

Melanie rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's you. Why do you keep cropping up everywhere?"

"Why do you keep seeking us out?" Yujin countered. "You hate us, but you're near us all the time."

"I have to monitor troublemakers."

"But you only monitor us. You don't burst into any other club meetings."

"You're the only ones that are really suspicious." Melanie laughed nervously. "Who knows what you four do in there?"

"You should know. You break in so much it's like you're our least favourite member."

Melanie's jaw dropped. She had dealt with rude people before, but nobody had ever spoken to her in such a blatantly disrespectful manner. "I - you - ugh!" She stormed off, and Angelo breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

"Don't mention it," Yujin said, her heart racing. She was seriously developing a crush on this boy! This nerdy boy that took care of his sister and baked cookies for them and invented things for his little sister. "Hey, when't the next time that we can come over and hang out at your house?"

"Not for two weeks. I'm grounded. My parents were told about the hoverboard and I got grounded. It was going to be two months, but the teacher sounded so proud and I showed them that I had loads of safety precautions in place so I wouldn't get hurt. No workshop, no toolbox, no notebook."

Yujin's jaw dropped. "They took your notebook?"

"I sketch ideas for inventions in there. They are thorough about grounding me."

"Right. No meetings at your house until you're not grounded any more. We'll have to meet at school."

"With Melanie," Angelo groaned. "I just want to invent things in peace. Why is she making us answer to her?"

"So she can be powerful," Yujin said. "There's never any other reason than for her to be powerful. That's why she does anything."

Angelo looked thoughtful and grinned. "I wonder if we can do something about that."

(PAUSE)

Layla, Angelo, Dante and Yujin gathered at lunch the next day in a disused art room (deliberately nothing like their usual room to evade Melanie) and discussed ideas.

"This is . . . not the best," Layla said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell of dust and mildew in the air.

"I know, but we have to have somewhere to talk that isn't our usual room and isn't my house," Angelo said.

"Sorry to hear about you being grounded," Dante said, fiddling with his hair.

"Not your fault. We need to be focusing on taking Melanie down a peg," Angelo said. "What can we do?"

"We should have just reported her ages ago," Dante said. In the distance, they heard screaming and cheering. "Is a fight going on or something?"

"Let's find out," Yujin said. The four went to the nearest window and saw chaos.

People were throwing what looked like paint at each other. The hallways were painted in shades of pink, red, orange, blue, yellow, green and purple. Then, as one, everyone picked one person, who looked like a speck from how high up the four were, and targeted them.

"I feel sorry for whoever everyone's throwing stuff at," Angelo said. "Let's go downstairs and see who it is."

"NO!" everyone yelled. Dante and Layla pulled him back.

"You are the smartest idiot I have ever known," Layla sighed. "You're like the stupid people in horror movies that investigate the noise in the basement. We'll just watch from here, where it's safe."

"This is amazing," Dante said. "Maybe this can end up in the Marbleton Messenger."

"Like we did," Angelo said.

The four settled into a comfortable silence while chaos ruled underneath their feet.

(PAUSE)

When the four friends went to afternoon registration, almost everyone they saw was covered in paint. Paint on their arms, legs, faces, in their hair. They looked pristine in comparison.

"Dear God, what happened to you all?" Mr Oluwatola asked.

"There was a massive paint fight," Marty said, who had purple and green smears on his face like war paint. "It was insane."

"You know what else will be insane? Cleaning the whole school!" Mr Oluwatola said. "Not to mention that poor student that was ambushed by everybody sharing a collective idea to target them!"

"Which student?" Angelo asked.

"Melanie Sainsbury," everyone chorused, giggling.

"Speaking of which, where is she?" Mr Oluwatola asked.

"Maybe she went home," Layla suggested.

"Hopefully!" Yujin blurted out.

And that was when Melanie came in, dripping with paint.

"Not a word, nitwits," she growled, as she took her seat. A loud squelch was heard as she lowered herself onto it. Angelo's jaw had dropped.

"I have never seen that much paint on a person before," he whispered to Yujin.

"Me neither," Yujin whispered back.

"Yujin Moon, Angelo Riva, I would appreciate some quiet as I try to process this incredibly stupid situation," Mr Oluwatola said. A few people giggled, and they both turned red.

"Aww, you look so cute," Dante teased. Angelo swore under his breath.

"Shut up," Yujin snapped.

(PAUSE)

Even her dad noticed the crush she was developing on the Italian. "So, that boy with the curly hair seems nice," he said, as they walked to the car.

"Appa!" Yujin hissed.

"He can't hear you," he dismissed. "He is very polite and nice. Plays well with his little sister."

And he bakes cookies and knows how to sew and he's cute, Yujin thought, smiling as she got into the front passenger seat. Angelo Riva is a serious catch.

Korean translation

Appa: Dad

To read the other parts of this fic, see Masterlist.

#creative writing #my writing #my WIP #writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr #writerscommunity #science fiction #science nerds #friendship #humour #autistic black boys #fantasci tumblr

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ram-de · 10 months

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purge and repose

i am faltering... morning arrives and i'm nervous all the same. gonna do some reframing.

here's a thought.

what if maybe i don't want to go at all? like... maybe attending it is too much of a hassle for me and that it would be better if i didn't go. /// nope i thought about it a lot, wrote about it yesterday. so it's at some point of significance.

i'm still nervous. even though i can try to make myself think i don't care about other people, i do. /// you do. but you think too highly of yourself if you think your presence is what matters the most in this occasion.

see, that sounds really fine on paper but I'M STILL NERVOUS. /// i am because. because it's an important thing to try and get my ass out, okay!? i want to change, and it's scary. that's why it's nervous.

REFRAMING DOESN'T WORK AS WELL AS YESTERDAYS... like i know theoretically no one cares and i should just go and just mind my own business and everyone will too. but like. but like... what if things doesn't go as what i expectation...

w-wait.

no expectation. there is no expectation. no expectations for me to do whatever, to do anything, really. it's a wish of mine and no one else. so there's no expectations. it's a blank canvas that i don't know what's going to happen. courage is thrilling, but it doesn't last forever. for the constant of the me right now, courage isn't something i can just ask for and appears as i wish. so... trust me, that it's going to be okay? not all the other exaggerated thoughts and worries that i have to listen. trust me. yourself. i.

---------------------- 20 mins --------------

yeah. i'm faltering again. i don't know if i'm ready to... do this. but i don't know when is the next opportunity would arise again...

okay. i'll be honest. what scares me, perhaps isn't the the fact that i'm going to be anxious or i'll be awkward or something. okay, partially. but i think i get it now. what i'm worried about is not knowing if i'm going to be okay, not knowing what's going to happen, and having no reassurance that i'll be fine on my own. it boils down to this, i think.

because think of it, i'm more easier to move when someone i know is there already. or if someone asked me. or if... i don't know. having a blanket of "you're good to go" and believing in it.

---- 20 mins later - - - - -

I'm walking right now towards campus. My breathe lowkey became heavy. Damn. I really think about this.

Fuck it. If I survive this, I'll buy myself some nice clothes. Promise.

---- 5 mins later - - - -

Heart hearts fast. No expectations. Show up. And just that. I've dealt with awkwardness all my life. I can handle 30 more minutes of it. Mkay? Ughhh....

---- 3 more mins - - - -

I'm so close. I just need to walk upstairs. Would I be standing out like a sore thumb...? Would I be awkward and would I be a bother? Would I be weird? What good will...

AHHH...

Turn my brain off for the next minutes. I'm hella scared. I really am. Do it for me. For me. For the me in yesterday.

---- 0 minutes. - - -

I'm here, I'm here. It's okay. Okay. Now I can finally say this. It's okay. Breathe. It's okay. I did a good thing, didn't I? It's okay.

---- post 50 minutes - - -

I did it. I attended. Though now that I'm there I kind of wished I stayed a bit after presentation so maybe I could talk with her a bit. I don't really know where I stand and the only audiences that stayed are one that seems close to her so... My initial reaction was I'm hella scared. But I can't greedy, one step a time.

I did it. Gosh.

And now I'm over thinking attending and leaving without saying anything. Am I being rude... Hsgshshhs give it a break. I can always worry about it later.

#ramblingrams

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redbayly · 1 year

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Hey, guys. I normally try to live free of drama, but drama sometimes just catches up to me. In the last 24 hours, someone started leaving some really rude reviews on one of my most popular fanfics on Fanfiction.net. Now, this is not something new. Despite how well-liked this particular fic is and how many wonderful, kind, and thoughtful reviews I’ve gotten, the nasty ones stand out.

These latest reviews were, by no means, the worst I’ve ever gotten. I once had someone spam me with some of the vilest, most disgusting insults and threats I have ever seen. What set these reviews apart is that they wrote them under their own account. Normally, these guys like to post their nastiness under the anon/guest heading, so it’s fairly simple to just delete them. Not so when posted under an account.

The messages, as I said, were initially just rude. Insulting my OCs (who were basically just background extras) and just generally not contributing any critique of substance on this roughly ten-year-old fanfic. They then left one neutral comment and then one actually kind of nice comment, but then completely shifted into saying I was making “stupid decisions” and that I was “going to destroy everyone’s character” before saying they were dropping the fic.

They then wrapped it up by telling me to kill myself.

This is the first time I have ever had to report abuse. Again, I normally just delete anything hateful or rude because it’s usually anonymous, but I couldn’t do that here.

What’s more, no one ever, EVER, has any business telling someone to kill themselves. Not only is it incomprehensibly cruel, it is actually illegal to do online. I told my father (a retired lawyer) about what had happened and he said, “Yeah, no, they can’t do that, it’s a federal crime. If Fanfiction doesn’t do anything about it, that is a liability to them.” So I’m fairly confident that there will be some consequences for this person’s atrocious behavior.

Thing is, though, I’m not even angry about it. I’m just really disappointed that someone feels that it is acceptable to say such things to a stranger online. I had sent a couple PMs to them before I reported them, but got no response. I really do wonder what is so messed up in their life that they didn’t see what they were doing as wrong. The gentler, more nurturing side of me really wants to sit down with this person and ask if they are okay.

I recently applied for a teaching job (English) and one of the things I’d like to do, if I get it, is teach my students about how to give good critique. I’ve seen too much toxic stuff online and I feel the best way to combat it is by teaching young people how to express their opinions on other people’s work in ways that are constructive and healthy. Part of the problem with reviewers like the one I dealt with, I think, is that they weren’t taught that disliking something doesn’t give you the right to be abusive. And that is something that needs to be learned as soon as possible.

All in all, though, despite how that person treated me, I just feel sorry for them. It doesn’t matter to me that they hated my fic. If I’m totally honest, I’ve fallen out of love with that fic, myself. But the amount of anger that has to exist inside of someone for them to tell another human being to kill themselves (over a crappy, old crackfic at that) speaks volumes about what kind of a place they are at in their life. I only hope they find better outlets for that anger than leaving comments like those. I have had some problems with mental health and suicidal thoughts in the past, so telling me to kill myself really strikes at a sore spot. However, I was able to take it in stride and, while it will definitely linger for a while, I will be able to move on.

What worries me most is that they might say something like that to someone who can’t move on. And that could have far more serious consequences.

#redbayly's life #tw: suicide #suicide mention #cyberbullying #fanfiction

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moonrisecalamityretreat · 1 year

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Common Goals | Kazuo | Trial 5 | Re: Being sappy

Everyone had been saying their final words, preparing for the potential outcome that any of them could die… Yet one thing was certain, they all had a common goal to protect Yuriko in this case. As they apologized he offered his more gentle smile to them, placing his hands in his pockets as he let out a small chuckle.

“…You got us working together, didn’t you? You don’t got anything to apologize for, kid. We all want to see you live, and we’re gonna make sure you do. We’re all determined to see you get out of here in one-piece, okay?”

As everyone spoke kind words, some of them directed at him and others toward the group as a whole, it was clear Kazuo was struggling a bit. He didn’t look angered, but was more flustered to hear anything really like that. Turning his gaze away from the group for a moment as he kept quiet.

Of course that was until the voting results came into play, hearing they were right to an extent caused his eyes to go wide, realizing that it meant no one would be executed, a hopeful look for a brief moment… Until the two assholes ruined the moment of joy, stating that there would be an execution regardless.

Whatever smile he had on his face was instantly destroyed, a furious look as he slammed his fist into his podium, raising his voice to get their attention.

“–YOU CAN’T FUCKING CHANGE THE RULES! If Mio fucking did it and we voted for it then we were right, no one needs to fucking die, we played by your goddamn rules and won it, so sit the fuck down and let us walk the hell away.”

…But even though he was yelling, he knew it wasn’t going to work out. They didn’t care in the end who lived or died, they just wanted to entertain themselves. It pissed him off even more, but Hanji’s words rang through his mind… No words left unsaid, there was no confirmation who would die, but he wanted to get his words out before it was too late.

“…Mikazuki, I understand you’ve been angry, trust me when I say I fucking get it more than you’d think… But letting your anger and rage cloud your senses won’t do jack-shit. The assholes behind this are going to fucking pay, but, revenge isn’t going to fix shit, you need to use that anger to protect the people you care about, which, I think you’ve been doing a damn good job on. Just be mindful.”

“…Tsuneo, you’re a fucking dumbass who did something stupid, your face is punchable and honestly? Almost fucking did a few times here… But you’re also someone who’s working to better himself, how the fuck can I be mad about that? You just said it yourself, you did all those things, but you learned from it. You might be fucking stupid, but, you’re a good person. Don’t lose that side of yourself, ever, okay?"

”…Hayato, you always kept me the fuck up every goddamn night when you were healthy, talking about stupid shit I really didn’t care about and honestly I wanted to knock some goddamn sense in you for that… But when you were almost killed, I realized how much I appreciate the noise. You’re a good roommate, and a hero to a lot of people here… Continue to be that shining light that people need through the darkness here.“

”…Jinpachi, as you said we didn’t know each other as well as I would have liked as well. You had interest in the past shit I dealt with, but you weren’t rude about that bullshit, you didn’t pry on and on and on about it, unless I asked you if you wanted to hear shit… I respect that more than you really think, and it added a lot of respect for you. I think of you as a friend, as much as it might not fucking seem like it from how I act.“

”…Ken, you can’t give up. No matter who’s name gets called the hell out, you have to make sure you keep moving the fuck forward, and, if it’s you? Give them hell on the way out, make sure the bastards behind this feel the full force of what you can do. If we both make it out of here let’s train together, alright? ’s nice having a friend who can throw a fucking good punch.“

”…Futaba, when that whole reveal of you came out I didn’t understand it, I’m shit with technology in the long run, and, was more worried I’d somehow fuck up and break you or some shit. I didn’t care that you weren't human outside of that though. At the end of the day you’re your own goddamn person, and, a fucking good one at that. I’m happy to have met you, and, if we both make it out of here let’s keep in touch, okay?“

”…Loic, if I’m going to be honest? I’m happy I got to punch your stupid fucking face, it felt good at the moment… Especially since it let out the majority of the anger I felt in the last case, our talk afterwards helped me understand. You care about the people you love so much, you will do everything to ensure that the people you love are safe. If you’re the one who gets chosen, I’ll help figure out the shit we talked about, okay? If it’s me, then at least visit my grave to tell me about the progress, okay?“

Kazuo was starting to get a little emotional now, turning his gaze further away from the group. There were two more to go, then, one final message… He could do this, but emotions were always hard, especially when the next two were this important to him.

”…Hanji, it’s… Fucking funny how we avoided talking all the time, right? Scared to talk about the past, scared to think about the shit that happened… But then when we did, and we both cried our fucking eyes out, I realized that I needed that just as much as you did. We both… Bottled up so fucking much. Yet after we had that moment, I trusted you more by the second. You’re one of the few people who’ve seen me cry my goddamn eyes out, that should say how much I respect you. Thank you for everything, you’re a goddamn good friend.

“Yuriko. I’m glad you get to live, it’s as you said, we’ve been a team since the first goddamn day we got here. I’m just… Glad I got to help protect someone I care about for once. I’ve seen so many people who I cared about die over the years, and I was reaching a breaking point. But you helped me through that, your joy and care you gave was enough to help me work past that… I know you’ve lost so much, but, keep strong, okay? And no matter who dies just remember to keep moving forward, don’t give up on that shit okay, and, if it’s me go find Ritsuka, okay? She’ll help you move forward past all of this shit.”

There was a pause, scratching behind the back of his neck as he realized another thing, something he would have to trust in everyone to do for him.

“Speaking of her, uh…Tell Ritsuka I love her, I… Really struggle to get that shit out sometimes, due to how I am.. I think she knows but, at least make it clear okay? If we’re being sappy assholes I couldn’t leave her out of that. She means the world to me and I want her to know that much.”

Taking in a deep breath, Kazuo nodded to the group once more, a determined look on his face.

“–I’m shit at this whole sappy-shit, so, sorry if that was terrible. No matter who goes I mean what I said though, I’m glad to have met you assholes.”

#reaction #ch5 #kazuo

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shinsou-ships · 3 years

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Thank you very much for the matchups and compliments 🥺. I'd send asks to befriend you but I have no idea how to start a conversation, just to lead one lol

you’re so welcome!! and no worries i’m really bad at starting conversations too :(( so pls don’t feel pressured to <333

#you’re so sweet for sending this in!#i just dealt with some rude people on here and this was nice to see in my inbox :)))

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astrojoy · 3 years

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Marriage Aspects Synastry

Juno/Natal is mentioned too

DISCLAIMER

💖 Not all of these happen in these outcomes, so please take this lightly if it doesn't resonate. Take into account where your planets are, what houses their in, aspects, etc. This is just basic information not based off of a particular chart

💖 I found this based off of marriage charts I saw and also confirmation and seeing what other people's thoughts were

💖 This is for entertainment purposes only. There is no room for being offended, rudeness, or anything immature. This was made only to provide brain candy and that is all. I am not a professional. Just a kid with a knack for research, looking at people's charts/putting pieces together and a deep curious mind for astrology/tarot and the occult in total. Thanks and have a nice day 🥳

Very small post because these are just what I've noticed recently. Ok by now 😃💖

North Node in Natal/Juno - This is gonna be a little difficult to explain. So ima try to keep this simple. Let's say you are in a relationship, First, go to you and your partners synastry chart. Next look for your NN, what house is it in, in their chart?? Next, go to their Juno Persona Chart, is their NN in that same house? Next do it vice versa but with your chart. If it's in the house that their NN was in, in the synastry chart, then this can be a indication of commitment/marriage

(EX with random names - Josh's NN is in Lily's 8th house in the synastry chart. In Josh's Juno Persona Chart, he has his NN in the 8th house. Next, Lily's NN is in Josh's 3rd in the synastry chart. Lily's NN is in the 3rd house of her Juno Persona Chart)

Synastry Jupiter conjunct Juno - An advancement is seen here. Possibly an advancement in marriage

Angles conjunct - Common in soulmates, also romantic soulmates

NN//NN + NN//SN conjunct - Another common placement for long-term close soulmates

Asteroid Lust aspecting Juno/DC/IC/Vertex/Moon/Venus/Pluto - the need, the want for commitment. To be with the person. Such a pull and tug affect. They could possibly fantasize about the Vertex/AC/Juno person a lot. Pluto might be more of a sexual attraction I'd say tho. But it's powerful in the relationship nonetheless

Vertex/Juno aspects - Fated marriage

Vertex conjunct DC/NN/Juno/AC - Fated encounter and possibly commitment

Venus positively aspecting Moon - emotionally close connection. Could be in the form of a relationship

Planets directly on top of angles or NN//SN - pretty self explanatory 😂 learning and growth in ones soul journey can occur from this. Massive attraction can occur physically and/or mentally. Hard time letting each other go unless other aspects say otherwise

A man's Jupiter will have the same degree as the sign a woman's Jupiter is in JUNO persona chart, also the women's Venus degree will make the husbands be in the same sign/zodiac as the degree of the woman's Venus so basically vice versa for both in each other's Juno charts! It's something I noticed in 2 people's charts and it was cool! Interesting marriage aspect

(EX - Josh's Jupiter is at 8 degrees in his Juno chart, Lily's Jupiter is in a scorpio house in her Juno. Vice versa with Venus for the girls side)

Moon conjunct/positively aspecting NN - A deep emotional feeling in the relationship. Can heal each other really well and help spark emotional growth

Lilith major placements - showing some karma to be dealt with. Lilith qualities could be prominent in the partnership. However I have noticed it before so might as well 🤷‍♀️

Venus/Juno aspects - sensuality/love/romance connected with marriage? Yes. Unless other aspects prove to hit this aspect, this is a well placed sign

Chiron conjunct Angles - Triggers for Chiron. Wounds will be pretty easily triggered or seen. Especially if it's in aspect with AC. Could however be a slight karmic placement however this shows more growth and this relationship will have a lot of healing aspects about it

Moon same degree - dunno why just saw it is all 🤷‍♀️

Planets aspect a person's ascendant - really intense attraction. Venus can be more of a love at first sight thing sometimes. Planets here indicate something major must be in the cards. Something is intensely noticed/felt in the relationship. Big placement for change and magnetism!

Juno/Juno aspects - 😃

5th house overlapping planets/placements/aspects - Big love, attraction, fun placement for things as such. However I've also seen this cause a quickly sparked marriage (coUgH too quick CoUgH 🤡) and so they got divorced. However it was definitely a love aspect so ima leave it here anyway, fight me nerd 🔥😃🔥

Venus/Jupiter aspects - expansion with the planet of passion/love/security/commitment? Yes

Juno opposite Vertex - can also show commitment and pull towards it. You guys might feel like you guys were destined to meet, also marry in some way. A strong placement

#astrology #zodiac #all zodiac signs #astrology observations #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #astrology notes #astroblr #astrology community #astro blog #astrology blog #astro post #astrology post #juno persona chart #marriage astrology #astrology love #love astrology

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sergiovinazzi · 3 years

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Stolen - Lando Norris x Reader (Chapter Two)

2.9k words, rated E for everyone :)

Lando’s voice, amplified by the TV speakers, echoes around the humming Red Bull garage. “I’m fine but I’ve been better. I can say that I’m not in perfect condition, I’m not gonna lie. Some work to do mentally of course. I talk about that a lot, and mental health and mental strength is very important. I’ve not been sleeping that great and so on… not ideal and I’m feeling a bit sore, but I’m not the guy in the worst position after Wembley. I’ll work on it, I’ll make sure I’m in the best shape possible, and I feel like I can still go out and focus on what I need to do, and that’s the main thing.”

Your mind races as you listen to the boy plastered across the many screens revisit his experience at Wembley. He sounds awful; something about his cadence making it even more obvious that he is really, truly shaken up. The wavering pitch, awkward pausing, fumbling for words; everything about the way he presents himself is serving as a brutal reminder that being physically unscathed is no indicator that harm was not dealt. Even as the interview moves past the topic of last week’s Euro Final, you notice the shift in demeanor and your heart aches. You worry that bringing the watch to him is a bad idea, that it could prompt unbidden memories and disquieting feelings. You understand how big of an event Silverstone is from your dad’s tangents alone, especially for an English team with an English driver, so you reevaluate whether your decision to come was selfish, one made solely to alleviate your own sentiments of guilt rather than to verily right your believed wrongdoings.

On the journey to Silverstone, your dad had made multiple attempts at lessening your stress, even opting for variations of the if he steps out of line I will put him right back in his place father speech. Unfortunately fruitless, your father’s attempts mean you remain just as anxious as when you had first discovered that you managed to obtain a stolen wristwatch.

You’re not sure whether it’s the crisp morning air or your nerves that sends chills across your flesh, but your attempt to ground yourself subtly doesn’t go unnoticed by your dad as he passes you in the garage.

“Time is ticking,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips. “No pun intended.”

You roll your eyes in an attempt to downplay your apprehension, but your voice gives away any and all signs of the false confidence you hope to portray. “Can you do it for me?” you plead.

“I can’t just stroll on over to the McLaren garage without an invitation or proper reason, especially not a couple hours before free practice starts. It doesn’t look good.”

“It’s not like me walking in there instead would look any better,” you retort, gesturing to the Red Bull logo plastered across the chest of your black polo. “Your branding isn’t what I would call subtle.”

“Look, the McLaren team are a good sort. They’ll help you out if you just explain the issue and show them the watch. I’m sure Lando will understand too, he seems like a pretty nice bloke,” your dad reassures you.

Sighing, your eyes meet the floor, fingers intertwined with each other as you fidget incessantly. Before you can speak up in further defiance, however, an additional set of footsteps grow nearer and you freeze at the voice which speaks up.

“Christian, how much longer until our media slot?”

You lose your breath momentarily, locking your gaze onto your shoes as you wait for the person to pass by.

“About five minutes, Max,” your dad replies. “We were just about to head over.”

When you hear the footsteps grow fainter, you risk looking up, thankfully being met with only the observance of your father. You don’t even realize that you’ve tensed your body until your dad points it out.

“Relax,” he says. “He’s not going to say anything here, especially not on a race weekend.”

Nodding, you feel your shoulders ease up but you remain quiet.

“Anyways, like I said, our media briefing and interviews start soon and we’re after McLaren this weekend so they should already be back in their garage,” he says, realizing that you still appear troubled by the task ahead of you. “I promise you, everything will be fine. Just go over there and I’ll meet you back here when we’re done. The quicker you head over, the quicker you’re done with it and we can all move on." With that, your dad walks away and you reluctantly leave the Red Bull garage, adjusting your shirt as you straighten up.

You take a brief glance at your phone, turning it off after you try one last time to keep the picture of the boy imprinted in your mind. Eyes darting rapidly, you attempt to scan the paddock for anyone looking remotely like him while you make your way towards the bright orange and blue indicators of the McLaren garage.

The frequency of orange-clad individuals grows the further you stray from the safety of Red Bull’s garage, and you feel your heartbeat begin to increase. Worried that someone would stop you before you could approach the one person you had traveled all the way to Silverstone for in the first place, you quicken your pace.

You’re mere meters away when you spot him. Pushing past a few people while trying to keep your eyes trained on him, you watch as he turns around to talk briefly with the woman next to him.

Huffing, you muster up the little confidence you have and tap him on the shoulder.

His confusion is evident and the blonde woman next to him does not look pleased to have been interrupted. The silence is palpable as they stare at you, expecting an explanation for the abrupt ending of their conversation.

“Hi,” is all you can deliver. You’re at a loss for words while the woman next to him seems to lose what little patience she has with you. Everything you had rehearsed beforehand, gone. Your mind is foggy and your mouth feels dry as you try to compose yourself. “Um, can I talk to you for a second? It won’t be long, I promise.” Your voice breaks at the end and you wish you had never agreed to get on that stupid red-eye to Silverstone in the first place.

Lando offers a look of sympathy and then turns to the woman next to him. “Charlotte, could you just give us a second?”

Pursing her lips and turning on her heel, the woman walks away, heading towards the mouth of the McLaren garage. She’s far enough away that you’re out of earshot, but close enough that you feel her gaze linger as Lando turns back to face you.

“Hey, don’t worry,” he tells you with a smile. “We can take a picture if you want or I can sign some stuff for you.”

“What? No.” You shake your head, mentally slapping your palm against your forehead and forcing yourself to get a grip. Idiot. “Fuck, sorry, that sounded so rude! It’s just-” you rush to explain.

“Oh no, it’s okay!” he stammers. “I should’ve guessed from the Red Bull shirt anway.”

You both share an awkward laugh before you compose yourself and reach a shaky hand into your bag.

“This is going to sound so weird, but I was online shopping for a new watch the other day because I lost mine, and I’m pretty sure I bought the one that was stolen from you. I didn’t know anything about it, I swear. I just...well, here,” you say, offering the watch and its temporary box to Lando.

He looks at you, taking the box only to go wide-eyed at the contents inside.

“I have all the information that I was able to get, but the ad was taken off of eBay and I really wanted to do the right thing and give it back to you. Please don’t be mad.”

“What the hell?!” he exclaims, earning a few looks from people passing by and catching Charlotte’s attention once more. “Sorry, sorry. How did you get this?”

Amused, you laugh quietly while he studies the watch intently. “That was my dad’s reaction too. Basically there was a listing for it on eBay and it was sort of an impulse buy,” you explain. “I didn’t see the news coverage of what happened until afterwards and I felt awful. I’m really sorry you had to go through that, I genuinely had no idea.”

Shrugging, he plays it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s hard to miss his sudden change in attitude from the interview you watched moments ago and you can’t help but wonder whether he has your or the watch’s presence to thank.

There is a brief moment of silence between you both before he continues. “How much did you pay for it?”

“It was so cheap, honestly,” you say. “Nothing compared to the original price, I’m sure.”

Charlotte, alerted by Lando’s attention-grabbing reaction to being reunited by his watch, returns to where the two of you are standing. “Oh wow, did you find a replacement watch for him?” she asks you, clearly impressed by the apparent likeness.

“No, Charlotte”, he corrects her. “It’s my one. Look.” He hands the watch to his PR manager, who receives it so gently you think she’s afraid it might shatter in her hands. Flipping the watch between her fingers, she studies the small engraving on the underside of the face.

“Oh my god,” she whispers.

Lando nods. “It’s the exact date it was given to me, there’s no way anyone else could know that and make a copy of it.”

You feel the need to justify yourself to her. “It was listed online and I bought it before I knew anything about the situation. I didn’t even really know who Lando was until I saw what happened on the news, I swear.” You anticipate her anger or disapproval, preparing yourself to withstand the lecture you’re about to receive and mentally promising that, as soon as it’s over, you can run back to your dad and tell him you just want to go home.

But it doesn’t come.

“I can’t believe it!” she exclaims. “We all thought we’d never see it again and you found it on accident.” The smile she gives you sets your mind at ease. “Technically, this is a police matter now, so I’ll have to hand it over to the right people, but this helps us tremendously. Did you get any information about the seller?”

You explain the situation to her, about how the listing was taken offline but you have a printout of the messages and address the seller gave you, which you hand her from your bag. She lets you know that someone may get in touch soon to ask questions but not to worry, that it’s only a formality. Eventually, she asks if you’d like to watch free practice from a spot in the mobile hospitality unit, but you politely decline, explaining that you needed to get back to your dad in the Red Bull garage instead.

Charlotte smiles fondly at Lando and presses the brim of his cap down over his eyes. “Come on, you, we have to go and get ready now anyway.”

He takes off his hat, cheeks flushing as he makes an effort to quickly brush the curls lining his forehead, placing it back on and dismissing Charlotte with a wave of his hand. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

Once the two of you are alone, he pulls out his phone. “Do you have Venmo? I’ll pay you back, it’s not fair that you had to waste your money.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.”

Lando seems unconvinced. “It’s really not a problem.”

“Seriously, it’s all good.”

“Well,” he continues awkwardly. “I have to go, but are you here for the whole weekend or...?”

You shake your head. “Just today. I’m not into Formula 1, I find it a little bit boring.”

“Seriously?! The fastest cars in the world and you’re calling it boring? Why even come to something like Silverstone if it’s so boring?” he feigns offense, doing air quotes as he imitates your apparent disdain for the sport.

Laughing quietly, you shrug. “I have family at Red Bull, so it was basically just luck and convenience that you were in the U.K. this weekend,” you clarify. “I don’t really understand Formula 1, that’s all.”

“Fair enough, it’s not for everyone I suppose,” Lando replies. “So who in your family works at Red–” The end of his question is drowned out by the sound of his name called by an evidently disgruntled, impatient engineer.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go, but, um,” he exhales with a nervous laugh. “I still feel like I need to repay you in some way. Do you want to go get a drink after the race on Sunday? I’m busy for the next few days but Sunday night I’ll be free. Only if you want to, of course, I don’t want to, like, pressure you or anything.”

You laugh, appreciative that the nervousness was shared. “That– Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll give you my number.”

He types your details into his phone before apologizing once more, thanking you again, and rushing off into the garage.

——

On Sunday, you let your dad believe he’s the one who convinced you to stay for the entire race weekend, but it’s the promise of Lando’s company later that night and the endearing text messages on your phone that prompts the desire to see this weekend through. You had spent the previous nights on your phone, going through driver and team Instagram accounts, as well as the F1 website, to get an idea of what to expect. Typically, it would pain you to look through motorsport news pages, especially with so many of the reports centering around Max and his vie for the championship as of late, but you manage.

You notice almost immediately while settling into your spot at the back of the garage that the energy does not match your own. You are enthusiastic and eager, while the rest of the team is stressed and rushes around you. Presumably, it’s because race day impacts their livelihoods and paycheks whereas it only dictates your family’s dinner topics, but, nevertheless, your excitement refuses to simmer.

Unfortunately, if it was weird for you to be seen at the McLaren garage before the first free practice, it would be infinitely more suspicious for you to be lingering around on race day, so you were not able to catch Lando at all since your initial meeting on Friday. However, you made sure to message him good luck beforehand, to which he thanked you and expressed excitement for your upcoming night.

“If you need anything, just ask. I’ll be on the pitwall,” your dad says, snapping you out of your whirring mind. He notices your obscure behavior, quick to comment on it. “Is it weird? Being here after so long?”

You nod, shrugging. “Unusual, for sure. So much has changed since the last time I came and watched, but I’m excited, though.”

“Well, it’s always good to have you here.”

Reciprocating your dad’s grin, you silently send him on his way. He exits quickly and leaves you to your own devices. Though, your own devices look to consist of impatiently waiting for the race to start and scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. Ironically, your boredom with pre-race antics appears to create quite the dichotomy against the chaos exuding from the garage you find yourself encompassed in.

Regardless, your attention is regained when frequent cuts are made to the drivers in their cars, and you recognise that the race will be starting soon. You are temporarily startled when the cars begin moving without hearing an official announcement, but quickly realisee that it is merely a formation lap and no one else around you seems to be paying all too much mind to it.

When the cars return to their positions on the grid, you watch eagerly as the lights flash and the announcers begin yelling. You keep your eyes trained on the orange car towards the front of the grid, watching Lando so intently that you almost miss what happens to the cars in front of him.

Your eyes go wide as you watch the events unfold: the Red Bull car out front collides with what you identify as a Mercedes, spinning and slamming into the barrier. Gasps chorus across the garage as the screens replay slowed clips of the crash as an announcement states that the safety car has been deployed. They replay it from every conceivable angle, your astonishment at the severity is present upon your first viewing, but it’s only after the sixth clip that it clicks in your head that the person in the car is Max.

“For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen clash and tangle on the opening lap, but, this time, it is ending in dramatic consequences for the championship leader.”

If you had perceived the pre-race behavior in the garage as chaotic, this was a whole new level of absurdity.

People rush around you while orders are shouted and frustrations are verbalised.

Your dad is angry.

The last time you recall him behaving like this was when your younger sister had broken the wine glasses he had bought for your mother on their honeymoon. You, however, ignore his yelling and remain encapsulated by the TV, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the events unfolding finally, finally register in your brain.

Car number 33 is in the wall and out of the race, and your ex-boyfriend is inside, silent and unmoving.

____________

tag list @lovebynorth @its-astrotea-love

210 notes · View notes

tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could.

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself.

For example, right now.

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words.

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder.

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took.

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions.

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk.

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere.

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The world works in mysterious ways.

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him.

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.”

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief.

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow.

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay.

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was on Harry’s mind.

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things.

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month.

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate.

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

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The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane.

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again.

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.”

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering.

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her.

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated.

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

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Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was.

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura.

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

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Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well.

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

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As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time.

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?”

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back.

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…”

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?”

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her.

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly.

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted.

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

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