#and his voice.. worth a watch just for that

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ꒱ 이민형

summary : one thing about your boyfriend, mark, is that he would always take care of you — even if you were annoyingly drunk — and he was embarrassingly in love

genre : fluff, mark x afab!reader, slice of life tws : language, kissing, mentions of alcohol, pet names author notes : oh he’d be a good boyfriend i just know it word count : 1k

it’s a good thing the elevator in your apartment hadn’t gone out yet, otherwise the man on your arm would’ve been upset — though he’d never let you know that.

he just loved you too much for that. and you kept telling him about how much of a good night it was for you; he’d never dream of ruining that.

“baby,” he stated quietly, pulling your arm around his waist higher, as it kept slipping, “hold on, just a little longer… why’d you have to live on the 10th floor? thank god the elevator isn’t out. is the view really worth it though?” he watched the numbers climb, illuminated electronically above the door.

your eyebrows furrowed, and though you were hunched against him, you willed your head up. deadpanning, you replied, “duh.” to which he just laughed at. “you just don’t get it mark! have you seen it? it’s beautiful! not more than you, but you know.”

“many times — actually, i helped you move in, baby.”

you giggled, head falling into his side, “y-yeah, you did… do you remember haechan falling up the stairs? he wasn’t even carrying anything heavy! oh my god, it was so funny i swear i peed my pants!”

mark thought that, for a drunk girl, you were very good at not sounding slurred with your words. however, standing or walking in a straight line were two very different tasks for you to accomplish in this state. but he thought it was cute that you thought of him to pick you up and make sure you got home safely. he loved that you loved him so much; shared so many memories with him and were still willing to make more. and truthfully, he loved you more.

the elevator dinged, the voice telling you that the doors were now opening. mark braced his arm around you tighter, hiking you up to be, at least a little, straighter.

you trudged along, holding him back with his attempts to keep a steady pace. you knew it was difficult to move on your own accord in your current state but, honestly you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor if you fell.

“work— with— me— here, y/n. please,” he gritted, practically dragging your giggling figure. “do you even want to sleep in your own bed?”

your eyes narrowed soberly, “are you staying?”

“will that make you walk faster?”

as if possessed, the thought alone was enough to make you straighten your back and begin willing your legs to move — clumsily, but you knew your boyfriend was still a crutch to make sure you didn’t hit the floor.

he laughed in disbelief, then relief once you two finally had made it to your numbered door; mark putting in the passcode and it chiming with satisfaction.

“you scare me sometimes, baby.”

you hopped in place, the door swinging open with the length of his arm. you slumped against the wall, unhooking the strap of your heels and kicking them off.

“let’s go to bed!” and when you were about take off down the hall, a hand grabbed yours and stopped you — your feet comically still stomping in place. your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.

“first,” he started, leading you down the hall; for a moment you thought he just didn’t want you to run, but he turned off into your bathroom. he hit the switch and illuminated the room, your eyes shutting instinctively. “your makeup.”

you whined, trying to get out of his grip, “no.”

“you’ll kill me in the morning, babe,” he grabbed your waist, hoisting you onto the counter and trapping you with his body, “it won’t take long.”

your pinky swung from the porcelain and into his view, “promise.” you weren’t asking, and that made him laugh.

his pinky connected with yours, “promise.” he replied adamantly, mimicking your movement and kissing the end of his balled fist.

he got to work, grabbing the remover and a couple cotton rounds. he gently swiped your skin, and you swear your head kept drifting to the side with tiredness. you couldn’t help that your boyfriend was the sole reason you could get a good-nights sleep. instead of trying to keep you up, he grabbed it, huffing out another laugh at your antics, but letting you fully fall asleep in his hand.

mark admired you as he tried his best to get the mascara off, smudging it and making you look a little foolish. he thought you were cute; the way your lips were parted, small snores leaving them. the slight crease of your brows as he put your moisturizer and serums on. he swears he could feel his heart swell, knowing you were just that comfortable around him — so adamant to have him by your side — to have him love you.

and he did.

he loved you so fucking much. his future was you. if he was your world, you were his sun. you were his lifeline. you were the one person he knew he could rely on without contest. if he was a producer, you were his muse. everything revolved around you. even if his thoughts weren’t originally for you, they’d eventually make their way back to you. he was excited to talk to you about anything and everything. he was blindsided by a love as strong as this mutual one. he’d die for you, and that’s why he lives.

honestly, he was so embarrassingly emotional right now for you, he could feel the tears welling up.

he swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbing the other side of your head and watching as you blinked blearily.

you smiled sleepily, “when’d you get here, baby?”

he could feel your arms climb to be around his neck, pulling him and simultaneously pushing yourself to get body-to-body. you always craved the warmth (even without thinking) like you were cold-blooded.

“i’m always here.” he kissed the side of your mouth, whispering against your lips, “now, let’s go to bed?”

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I'm here with a Wuthering Waves request.

Could I request Jiyan with a s/o who likes talking about how pretty and handsome he is?

‘Look at you,’ you said softly as you held his face within your hands, fingertips caressing his skin as though it was made out of porcelain, while your gaze was transfixed on the many shades that made up his gorgeous eyes that always seemed to be set in a glare or deep thought. ‘Beautiful.’

Jiyan thought that after a while he would’ve gotten use to your honeyed words of sincerity and soft touches, however the general has found himself melting under your adoring gaze more times then he’d like to admit. With him being General it didn’t leave much room for you two to spend much time together, so when you do spend some time together Jiyan tries his hardest to make every second count as reconciliation for how often he’s away performing his duties.

You on the other hand didn’t mind it, sure it got lonely now and then but you’d always remind yourself that when your beloved general does come home from the battlefield, you got the opportunity to show just how much you appreciated him. You knew what you were getting into when you accepted his affections and became his partner, and as his partner it was your duty to take his mind off of his duties and bring about a sense of normality to his life.

‘Is there a reason you’re complimenting me?’ Jiyan asked, righting his hardest to not close his eyes upon feeling your fingertips caress his jaw in a way made every thought escape his head until all he could think of was how careful you were being with him.

‘I’m merely telling the truth my dear general, you are indeed a handsome man to gaze upon.’ You replied smiling warmly at him.

‘Is that why I always catch you looking at me as often as you do when I’m training?’ Jiyan raises his brow knowingly as you could only feel your cheeks flush at being caught but your couldn’t help it, you loved seeing your partner train as you got to watch him in his element and fall even more in love with him then you already had.

‘Guilty as charged,’ you chuckled as you pressed a kiss to his nose, ‘though I will not be made ashamed in watching my beloved general look ethereal and heavenly even when he’s working up a sweat.’ You added shamelessly.

Jiyan tightened his hold on your waist and pulled you in close. ‘You truly are a troublesome one aren’t you my love.’

‘Am I worth the trouble General?’ You asked him, looking deeply into those captivating eyes that you longed to look into their seemingly endless depths of pure gold forever.

‘You are indeed worth it and much more, it is I that should be asking you that question.’ Jiyan said as he recalled the important dates that he had missed due to his duties as general, he knew you didn’t resent him one bit for it, but that didn’t mean he himself had forgiven for missing out on the most important days of your life together.

You furrowed your brows as you saw a look of guilt and remorse cast over his face and you immeditly moved into action by planting kisses all over his face as you whispered sweet nothings to him. ‘You are anything but trouble my sweet, handsome Jiyan. The man with the prettiest golden eyes and the most beautiful blue hair that consumes my every waking thought to the point it maddens me.’ You pull away just to rest your forehead against his.

‘You may hold resentment towards yourself but I don’t, I miss you it’s true but my love for you is unending, I love you when you’re with me and I love you when you’re away fighting to protect our home. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes upon and I will say that until I have lost my voice completely.’ You steal a kiss from his lips. ‘You are worth every bit of me even if you may not think so but you are and I will spend the rest of my life proving that to you because if I don’t, then may my heart be forever incomplete without you. So please don’t doubt yourself because I don’t doubt who my heart chooses to love wholeheartedly.’ You finished.

Jiyan only pulled you in tightly against his chest as he burrowed his head into your shoulder to hide away his burning cheeks, the words he wanted to say had died upon his tongue when you bore your heart out to him, his eyes sealed shut as he took you in your entirety and engraved it to his memory for when he had to leave once more for the battlefield; hoping that your scent would cling to him so that he’d have something of you to keep him going when stuck in the front lines.

He just wanted to have some aspect of you with him as his own personal morale boost when he was feeling at a loss, but wouldn’t allow for the soldiers to see that side of him, for if the general is shown at a loss, then the soldiers are quick to loose hope, he has to be strong for them like a good general should from his troupes and be a human second. ‘My heart has always belonged to you my dear,’ he began, ‘I didn’t see it fit that I’d receive your honeyed words due to my frequent absences, but with your unconditional love i am sure to see myself the way you see me one day; if you’ll continue to help me.’ He finishes, tightening his hold on you.

You smiled brightly as you stole kiss from his lips. ‘Forever and always my pretty General.’

[risuola]

ENTRY #10 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

You make my heart do things it's not supposed to do.

contents: arranged marriage!au, teeth rotting fluff, nothing else — 1k words

a/n: expect me to drop few entries very quickly because they are all finished in my drafts <3

series masterlist

It still flustered him.

Satoru never, not once in his 28 years of life, felt more confused, than right now. Why was his heart doing backflips in his chest? He sat there, on the wooden chair frozen and thankful for the furniture that held his weight because if suddenly it’d be taken away, he would collapse to the floor, meet the cold kitchen tiles and melt against them into a puddle of mess. He was there, stuck in time with his head empty and heart racing in his chest, rumbling against the cage of his ribs while you were going about the day without a care and attention to his pathetic state. A state you reduced him to.

It’s been few minutes already and Gojo sat there in silence, watching your back as you were washing fruit in the sink, snacking on the juicy strawberries he grabbed for you earlier that morning — a gesture foreign to his own body but he wanted, for once, to be the person who made you smile and not only experience the effect of someone else’s doing. He woke up earlier that day, before the sun even peaked above the horizon line and with his thoughts racing and stomach full of butterflies, he went on a very special mission.

It was a tiny market, way outside Tokyo but with the loveliest sellers. He found a booth he eyed once when on the job in the area, a stand full of little hand-woven baskets, each of them brimmed with fruit. The strawberries were red, some very bright and some very deep in color, glistening in the early sun with the morning dew that scattered across the surface looked as if little crystals were adorning the harvest. Satoru smiled and the old lady smiled as well.

“How can I help you, young man?” She asked, spreading her arms invitingly and Satoru could tell, by the look of her calloused hands, stained in juice and dirt, she was working hard every day to make a living.

“My wife loves strawberries,” he began, catching himself on the ease with which the word wife left his mouth, “but I don’t know much about picking the best ones. Could you help me with that?”

“You came to the right place, son!”

Just few moments later, Satoru was walking slowly towards his house, after warping back into the city. In his hand, a bag hung hooked over his fingers, full of those little baskets and their contents. He might have gone overboard with the purchase, but the joyful tears that welled in the eyes of that old woman when he paid her for fruit — definitely much more than it was worth according to the prices — he had no regrets. In result he carried the bagful of not only strawberries but also some apples, raspberries and sweet cherries — all of which he was forced to take, despite his initial plans of getting only the red ones you like so much.

“There you are, right on time,” your beautiful, melodic voice greeted him the moment he swung the doors open, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could’ve bought you flowers as well, he planned to do so, but he had to evacuate himself from the grasp of that one seller lady, because as lovely as she was, if he stayed a moment longer, she would pack him her entire harvest of that morning. “I thought you went out earlier, but I made breakfast for you anyway.”

“I went for a little walk,” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant and at ease as he could despite the rageful whirl of butterflies in his stomach. Why was he so nervous? “And I bought you these.”

A soft thud barely made itself apparent above the cacophony of clinking plates and cutlery, but it was enough to catch your attention. You looked at him, curious, and somewhat carefully reached into the bag now rested on the kitchen table. Your face brightened up, your eyes glimmered and you smiled — and Satoru could’ve sworn he’s never seen something more beautiful. You reminded him of a child that got a toy it dreamed of. Pure happiness washed over your features and he wondered if it was always that easy to bring joy to your otherwise calm self.

“Oh my god, Satoru–“ you gasped out, fishing out one of the berries and after a short rinse under the water, you popped it into your mouth and melted. He was told by the woman in the market that the type she was growing on her fields was exceptionally sweet, with the right amount of tang and a lot of juice.

“Tasty?” He asked, watching how you savored the flavor with pure pleasure.

They were tasty. He found out himself, because when your lips pressed to his own, he forgot how to breathe and the only things on his mind were the plushiness of your mouth and that sweetness. His body moved on its own, his hands found their place on your hips, pulled you in, as if it was a natural reaction for him to bring you closer.

And then, before he managed to secure his grip on you, you were gone from his proximity, leaving only the lingering taste of strawberries on his lips and a growing confusion.

I love you.

He heard that right, a gentle whisper against his mouth. You said it, this time you said it for sure, this time he was sure the words actually were spoken, not read between lines.

“Sit down, Satoru, eat your breakfast,” you sing-sang happily, as if you didn’t stop the entire globe just now. As if you didn’t just alter the universe he was in, shifting the rhythm of the muscle in his chest permanently. As if you didn’t just tell him you love him.

But he sat down, afraid to not lose his balance and absentmindedly shoved a piece of a pancake into his mouth.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland@ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

To Rate a Hug part 2 of ?

Tags: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer Morningstar x Reader, humor, antics, shenanigans, Alastor is a petty bitch, Lucifer is a dork, Reader is also a dork

part 1

Alastor’s ear twitched at the sound of someone shouting your name. He glanced over, seeing Lucifer skip up to you like a lovestruck fool.

“Hey, Luci!” You said with a grin, scooping up the fallen angel in a hug. Lucifer’s eyes briefly took on a heart shape as he hugged you back, a light blush on his cheeks.

Alastor turned his attention back to his reading. A low growl permeated from his chest without his permission which agitated him even more. Wasn’t the thing you said at that silly little activity about wanting his attention? Why now has that shifted to Lucifer?

Was it because he gave you what you wanted?

Alastor gritted his teeth, grin straining. This is a ridiculous waste of thought. If this pettiness is simply because he wouldn’t indulge in your strange desires than it wasn’t worth his time-

“Alastor, you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his musings. He quickly composed himself and gave you a bright smile.

“Of course, my dear!” He said “Whatever makes you think otherwise?”

“Um. Probably because you’re hunched over in the corner growling.” Lucifer said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alastor’s eye twitched. Why was this idiot still here?

“Don’t you have something you need to be doing?” He said with mock interest “I imagine the King of Hell has quite a full schedule.”

Lucifer shrugged “Not really. I’m kind of just here to look pretty.”

You snickered at that, covering your mouth with one hand. Lucifer stood up taller, puffing his chest out.

“Yes, well. I do.” He said, slipping away into the shadows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your ears went down, watching Alastor slip away. Did the conversation from the other day bother him that much? If that’s the case you’d need to apologize. And, well, no time like the present.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” You said, shooting Lucifer a smile. The King jumped a bit at your voice, startled out of the glaring contest he was having with where Alastor just was. He frowned at you.

“Um. Maybe you shouldn’t?”

You picked him up and held him out at arm’s length “Listen, I get where you’re coming from, but I think this is partially my fault, so I need to talk to him.”

“How is it your fault he’s an asshole?” Lucifer said, flailing his arms about.

“Well…Maybe my comment in the Truth or Dare thing made him uncomfortable…”

“That’s his problem, then.” He snorted, crossing his arms.

You sighed, gently placing Lucifer back on the ground. You put his hands on both of his shoulder and leaned down to be eye-level. “Again, I appreciate where you’re coming from. But I feel like I should talk to him about this so I’m going to.”

He bit his lip, brows furrowing. “Uh….Okay.” He ran a hand down his face “Just. Just be careful, all right?”

You grinned “Nah, I’mma run with scissors.”

“That’s like, the opposite of careful.” Lucifer pouted. He took a deep breath and gave you a small smile. “See you later.”

You said your farewell and scuttled off. Alastor would likely be in either his room or his radio tower, you figured. Which were both typically off-limits but you’d be sure to get his permission before barging in. You stopped by his tower first and knocked on the door a couple of times. When that got no response at all you scurried over to his room and knocked a couple times.

“Who’s there?”

Oh boy you could not resist. “Owl says!”

“…Owl says who?”

“That they do!” You said, cackling at your own stupid joke. There was another staticy cackle that quickly joined your own. The door opened and Alastor grinned down at you.

“Very silly joke, my dear. What can I help you with?”

You snorted, wiping a hand under your eyes to brush away the tears. “Well, you’re in a better mood.”

“Difficult not to be when someone surprises you with a horrible knock-knock joke.” He said with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

“Good point.” You said “Hey, can I talk to you?”

“Fascinatingly enough, you already are.” He said, tilting his head.

“Not what I meant-“

“I know, I know. Come on in.” He said, putting a hand between  your shoulders and pushing you inside. He kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe and stood there probably doing something but you weren’t paying attention, staring instead at Alastor’s room.

Half of it was a fancy-looking hunting lodge, while the other half a swamp. Fireflies blinked in and out over the waters and you could hear crickets and frog chattering. It smelled like damp moss and sawdust with just hints of coffee.

“Nice room.” You said dumbly. Alastor chuckled, pushing you over to the soft-looking lounge chairs and sitting you down. He sat across from you, crossing his legs in front of him and folding his hand on his lap.

“Now, what did you need to talk about?”

“Oh! Yeah.” You said and turned your attention away from the giant gator skeleton mounted on the wall. “I wanted to apologize.”

He tilted his head “…For what?”

“Um. I think I made you uncomfortable.” You rubbed the back of your neck “With the ‘who I’d want to hug’ comment? I really should’ve kept that to myself. I mean, I know you like your personal space and don’t really want people thinking of invading it-.” You stopped your rambling and took a steadying breath. “So. Yes. I wanted to apologize.”

Empty static hung in the air.  You started rocking in your seat, hunching over yourself. Alastor just stared at you, glowing red eyes a sharp contract to the gentle greens and browns behind him.

“I suppose I didn’t expect you to give up quite that easily.” He said, grin unmoving. He tilted his head to the opposite side, eyes squinting ever-so-slightly “If that’s something you wanted so badly, after all…”

You blinked. “Um.” Then realization hit you with a brick “…Did you want me to try hugging you?”

The audible record scratch gave you an answer. Alastor straightened up, clasped hands tightening into a white-knuckled grip.

What he wanted was your attention back on him, and not that fool of a king. What he wanted was you to pursue him and not Lucifer.

“Perhaps.” Alastor said.

You sighed. “Then you should’ve said so, Alastor. I’m not a mind reader. What I got from our talk after that was you thought I wanted something from you and that made you uncomfortable.”

Alastor’s ear twitched. “…So you’re diverting your attention to Lucifer because….?”

You shrugged “Dude’s touch-starved. You give him a hug and he turns into the happiest person in Hell.”

You jumped when Alastor had appeared right in front you. His grin was wide. “So it’s pity that has your attention on him?”

“Uh. No.” You muttered, pushing him away “Really it’s just… Well he gives pretty good hugs. Once I realized I can pick him up to the hug was pretty much perfect.”

“Oh I’m sure I can be much better.” Alastor said with a huff, waving you off. “You wouldn’t have to break your spine or pick someone up for a embrace of much higher quality.”

You rose your eyebrow, ears flicking. “Okay. Before I continue. Our conversation has lead be to believe you want me to try and hug you. Is this correct?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out.”

“Not really, saying giving mixed signals and being cryptic are your favorite past times.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

Alastor’s grin stiffened. His ears pinned back as he suddenly found the swamp more interesting. He snapped his fingers and a piece of paper appeared over your face. You jumped, startled, then took the paper and read it.

Yes pursue the hug thing and tell NO ONE.

You snorted, biting your lip not to laugh. But then you laughed anyway.

“Oooooh buddy you have no idea what kind of game you’re playing now.” You said with a sinister grin. “I’mma hug you.”

“I’m sure your attempts will be amusing.” He said casually, checking his claws.

“I warn you, I have many sinister plans at my disposal.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Starting my first plan. A-hem. Can I hug you?”

“Mmm….Nope!”

Well that didn’t work.

[doumadono]

For sinful sunday (I literally pray so my prompt gets some votes lol) - how about showering with Touya/Dabi???

Warnings: smut w/o plot, shower smut, rough smut, pussy fingering, oral (m receiving), fem villain!reader, established relationship, some spanking, quirk usage

A/N: this request got the third highest number of votes during the second Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

It was hard to be a villain. 

The life you had chosen was not for the faint-hearted, and it had taken everything from you, leaving only a raw, jagged determination to fight back. 

Giran had seen that spark in you, the way your eyes had blazed with untamed fury when you crossed paths in a seedy alley one rainy night. 

You had been on the run, a fugitive without a cause, and he had offered you an opportunity — a chance to join the League of Villains. It hadn't taken much convincing. After all, you had nothing left to lose.

Joining the League wasn't easy. You had to prove your worth through countless trials, showing that you could stand your ground amidst the chaos. 

The League was a motley crew of outcasts and renegades, each with their own dark pasts and twisted motives. 

The first time you met Dabi, he barely acknowledged your presence, dismissing you as just another unnecessary mouth to feed. But your persistence, unwavering determination, exceptional combat skills and quick thinking caught his attention.

Beneath the animosity, there was an undeniable attraction, a pull that neither of you could resist.

He was tough, abrasive, and often cruel, but there was something in his eyes when he looked at you — a flicker of comprehension, a hint of appreciation.

You were both broken, scarred by the world, and your shared pain forged a bond that transcended words. 

Your relationship with Dabi had started with friction, but over time, the rough edges had smoothed, revealing a raw and intense connection. You found solace in each other's darkness. 

The hideout was silent, save for the creaking pipes and the distant hum of city life. 

You and Dabi returned after a particularly grueling mission. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, leaving you restless and on edge. 

The mission had been challenging, pushing both of you to your limits. Your muscles ached, and the grime and sweat clung to your skin, making you long for the solace of a shower, to feel clean again. 

Unfortunately, the building's hot water supply had failed. Again. 

Frustration welled up inside you, but the need to feel clean overrode your reluctance.

Stripping off your dirty clothes, you stepped into the cramped bathroom and unscrewed the tap in a shower stall. A shiver ran through you as the icy water hit your skin, drawing a whine from your lips. "Dammit," you muttered, hugging yourself for warmth, already shivering all over the body from the overwhelming cold. The icy water was unbearable, but you forced yourself to endure it, trying to wash away the remnants of the day.

The bathroom door creaked open, and you turned to see Dabi leaning casually against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips. "Cold, huh?" he said, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, no thanks to this shitty plumbing," you replied, teeth chattering.

He smirked, the corner of his mouth curling up in that infuriatingly attractive way. He pushed off the doorframe and sauntered towards you. "Let me fix that for you."

You watched, captivated, as he undressed tantalizingly slowly. His white t-shirt came off first, revealing the patchwork of scars that adorned his torso, each one a testament to his brutal past. Next came his dark pants, sliding down his long legs with deliberate seduction. Finally, he stepped out of his boxers, leaving him gloriously bare, his cock you loved so much resting snuggly against his upper thighs.

Dabi stepped into the shower behind you. The cold water didn't seem to bother him; his quirk made him immune to such discomforts. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered, "Can't let you freeze to death, can I?"

His quirk activated, his body heating instantly, and the water transformed from icy to blissfully warm. Steam rose around you, enveloping you in a sultry haze. The shower and bathroom felt like a sauna, the air thick with dampness.

You turned in his arms, pressing your body against his, squeezing your breasts against his chest. The heat from his quirk seeped into your skin, and you moaned softly at the delicious warmth. You sighed in relief, closing your eyes as the hot water soothed your aching muscles. But then, you felt his rough hands on your hips, pulling you closer. Your eyes snapped open to find him staring down at you, his gaze intense and filled with hunger.

Dabi's hands roamed over your back, trailing fire in their wake.

"Thanks, I needed that," you breathed, tilting your head up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

His response was immediate and hungry, his mouth devouring yours with a fervor that left you dizzy. His tongue teased yours, a dance of dominance and submission. 

You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

As you two kissed, your hand drifted downward, brushing against the length of his cock. 

His breath hitched slightly, a low growl rumbling from his chest as you grasped his cock, stroking him slowly. 

The feel of him, firm and hot, growing hard and throbbing in your hand, sent a jolt of desire through your body, making your pussy wet. You couldn’t stop thinking about having this dick buried in your tight cunt, stretching your velvety walls to their limits.

The desire was so violent it seemed devouring your entire being.

His eyes darkened with lust, and he bucked slightly into your hand, the rhythm of your movements drawing a ragged moan from him. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with an intense, burning need even though his damp bangs fell directly into his eyes. "You’re playing with fire," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

"Maybe I like getting burned," you whispered back, your voice a sultry whisper.

You kept on stroking his cock, occasionally brushing its mushroom head with your thumb as the two of you kept on kissing. Your other hand moved to his ball sack, where you gently massaged him, eliciting a deep, throaty groan from Dabi’s lips.

You moaned as his needy hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit with a fierce intensity. Dabi was impatient, and you could feel it in every urgent stroke. Soon, his long, middle finger slipped into your slick entrance, gently brushing your inner walls as he finger fucked you.

His lips left yours, trailing down your neck, leaving a path of scorching kisses that made you moan softly. “You’re so fucking wet.” His thumb started brushing against your folds, pressing on them and flicking against them, making you a moaning mess.

Your body arched against him, craving more of his touch, more of the heat that only he could provide. "Dabi, please..." you begged, your voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Impatient, aren't we?" 

“Please,” you whined, trying to make him slip another finger in your needy hole.

“Suck my dick and you’ll be rewarded,” he cooed, gently slapping your hand, pushing it off his one. as he brought his finger that was previously buried in you to his mouth, licking it clean. “Tasty as always.”

You knelt down before Dabi. The water flowed down your face and body, making your skin glisten with moisture. He looked down at you with a devious grin spreading across his face.

You began by gently kissing his inner thighs, teasing him with soft, wet kisses. 

He let out a soft moan.

Next, you wrapped your hand around the base of his hardening cock, enjoying the feeling of its weight in your hand. The water from the showerhead made it slippery and smooth, making your task all the more pleasurable. 

You then leaned forward, parting your lips to take the head of his cock into your mouth. 

He hissed through his teeth, hissing, "Fuck, yes," as you began to suck on the tip of his cock.

You swirled your tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked from his slit. It was a taste you had grown to love, and it only served to heighten your own arousal. You took his entire length into your mouth shortly after, your lips sliding down his shaft as your tongue swirled around him.

Dabi's moans grew louder, echoing off the bathroom walls as you bobbed your head up and down on his cock. You could feel his hands on the back of your head, guiding your movements and urging you to take him deeper.

You moved your hand in sync with your mouth, stroking the base of his cock as you sucked on the head. You paused for a moment, looking up at him.

His eyes were partially closed, and his head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. 

You knew that he was close to the edge, so you decided to take it up a notch.

You took his cock into your mouth once more, using your hand to massage his balls as you pushed his dick as deep down your throat as you could, gagging yourself. You could feel his balls tighten, a sure sign that he was about to cum.

Dabi let out a loud moan, his cock twitching as he erupted into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah,” he growled.

You swallowed every drop of his thick seed, savoring the taste of his cum as you milked his cock for every last drop. Still on your knees, you looked up at him smiling sweetly, your lips still wet and sticky with his cum.

Dabi smirked down at you, pulling you up to your feet. But then, he lifted you slightly so you could wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your back against the shower wall. 

“Dabi, please, I need you!”

He met your gaze, his turquoise eyes burning with desire. "I love it when you beg," he said, a wicked grin spreading across his scarred face. He nipped and sucked at the skin of your neck, marking you as his. 

Your hands tangled in his hair, urging him on. “Fuck me,” you whispered, biting your lower lip.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he murmured against your collarbone, his breath hot and teasing as he lined his cock with your tight entrance.

Without another word, he pushed his cock into your pussy with a single, powerful thrust. 

You cried out, your back arching as pleasure and pain mingled in a heady rush. 

Dabi set a relentless pace. His large hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove deeper, harder. “So fucking tight,” he murmured.

The cool tiles pressed against your back, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he pinned you in place, fucking you rough, just the way he liked.

Your breaths mingled, ragged and urgent, as the tension built within you. You could barely catch your breath, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to anchor yourself. "Dabi," you moaned, your voice a mixture of desperation and bliss. "Don't stop."

His lips curled into a smirk at your words, and he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss. 

You could taste the salt of your combined sweat and the faint metallic tang of his tongue piercing.

He broke the kiss to nip at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "I won't stop," he promised, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill down your spine. "Not until you scream my name." His grip tightened on your hips, and he angled his thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you.

You whined pathetically like a cheap whore. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, ready to snap at any moment. 

His hips pistoned into yours, his veiny cock brushing against all your sweet spots as he fucked you rough. 

Your eyes rolled back into your skull whenever the tip of his cock pressed hard against your cervix, making you wetter with every passing second. You were glad he was fucking you in the shower; otherwise, he’d leave you a total mess, too exhausted to clean yourself. You slipped one of your hands between your bodies to rub little circles around your clit for more friction, rolling your head back to rest it against the tiles as the pleasure made you shiver and moan.

Dabi chuckled darkly, squeezing the meat of your ass before spanking it hard enough to leave an imprint of his hand. "That's my little cockslut," he praised, nibbling your earlobe.

When he hit that particularly sweet spot of yours a few times in a row, you couldn’t help it. With a cry, you squirted, your release mixing with the water cascading around you, staining his shredded abdomen.

Dabi chuckled, licking his lips. "That's it, little matchbox, that's my good girl. Is daddy making you feel that good?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, burying your head in the crook of his neck, feeling all shy out of sudden. “I… I wanna cum…”

Dabi chuckled and hissed after feeling your pussy clamping down on his cock. "Daddy's going to make you cum."

With a final, powerful thrust, you both shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave. 

Your pussy convulsed around his cock as if it tried to milk all of his cum, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. 

Dabi held you tightly, riding out his own peak with a guttural moan. Before he cum though, he withdrew from you, and jerked himself a few times, coming all over your abdomen with a loud groans escaping his lips.

As the aftershocks subsided, you clung to each other, the steam slowly dissipating around you. 

Dabi's forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and soothing. "Feeling clean now?" he teased, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess… I feel even more tired, but damn, it was worth it.”

He kissed you gently, a tender contrast to the intensity of moments before. "Anytime, little matchbox. I fucking love you.”

You chuckled, gently stroking up and down his toned chest and abdomen. “And I love you too, my edgy arsonist.”

A frown crossed his forehead, but he let out a soft chuckle. "Well, this time I'll let it slip, but call me that again and I'll have to punish you."

You nodded, and the two of you began washing yourselves.

No matter how hard it was to be a villain, facing it together made it all worthwhile.

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS…! G.SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER ONE : fight! fight! fight!

NEXT… CHAPTER TWO : rare sighting.

megumi stood in front of his classroom, paper in hand and slightly trembling. he was never one for public speaking but he understood how much it meant to his favorite teacher to present. the timid boy excelled in school since the beginning, so this should’ve been an easy A.

his project was based on a historical figure, and the battles they fought. almost like a biography. he couldn’t remember all the details since he started and finished the night before, but the key points were definitely noted. yes, megumi was the type to start a project assigned two months ago the night before it’s due. he believes he works beautifully under immense pressure.

“speak up boy.” the boy’s voice was stern, cutting through the awkward silence in the classroom.

the silence was soon replaced with the students giggling. it was hard to differentiate the giggles, if it was out of nervousness or to taunt him.

he wasn’t that quiet. megumi thought that perhaps that comment was genuine, and they actually couldn’t hear him. but the mumbling in the back of the class told a different story.

“i bet you could punch him, and he wouldn’t even see it coming.” one of the boy’s whispered, quiet enough to not get in trouble but loud enough to disturb megumi.

perhaps he could’ve used the T.H.I.N.K method before speaking his mind. maybe then he wouldn’t be kicking a boys face and punching another.

now looking back at it, with adrenaline running through his veins, there was no way he could’ve avoided a fight. his fists were itching to feel something at the moment.

one of them lunged at him, shoving him backwards and almost losing his balance. another swings at him at which megumi easily dodged. megumi catches his balance, being fouled by anger, he swings without thinking.

after that, megumi blacks out and couldn’t remember what he did next. next thing he knows, he’s sitting awkwardly in the dean’s office. he wished you didn’t leave to get ice, he felt perfectly fine. he’d much rather deal with the lecture with the comfort that you were there.

the adrenaline starts slowly leaving his body as the dean’s voice goes in and out his head, like a distant drone in his ears.

“…able to knock out three out of the five and broke one kid’s nose. what would your father have to say to this?”

“he is not my father..” megumi said while staring at his bruised and bloodied knuckles. at least he would be proud that he won the fight, right?

“woah there little lady, you okay?. seems like we’re both in a hurry today.” the six foot tall male joked with a teasing and amusing tone.

you looked up, still slightly dazed from bumping into him. you had never seen him around the school, let alone anywhere. the way he was dressed would have you think he belonged in a different tax bracket.

he covered head to toe in designer, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. the suit’s fabric looked to be around a month’s worth of rent. one accessory that stood out was his sunglasses.

as stylish as the glasses were, wearing it indoors called for suspicious behavior. it gave him an aura of mystery that immediately set off alarms in your head.

“excuse me sir, i don’t mean to be rude but you cannot walk around the school without checking in. please turn around and check in.” you said in the firmest way possible, speaking to him as if he were a wanted man.

as attractive as he was, the students’ in the school were your top priority. plus, who would trust a man wearing sunglasses indoors?!

he raises his hands in defense and flashes you a charming smile, “of course, i understand and i apologize. i was just in a bit of a rush, i’m satoru gojo, here’s my ID.”

he pulls out his drivers licenses from his wallet and hands it to you.

“you see, i was called by the dean that my boy got into a bit of a..” you watch as he struggles to find the right words to paint megumi in a good light, “disagreement..?”

“oh! you’re megumi’s fath- i mean guardian!” you continue to examine his ID before handing it back to him. “i’m his home room teacher, we’ll be in the meeting together. please allow me to escort you.”

you motioned for him to follow you, and led the way down to the dean’s office. throughout the small trip, the ice bag in your hand drips away as he makes conversation.

“soooo, you’re a teacher here?”

you looked at him funny, “yes, i told you i’m megumi’s home room teacher.”

his eyes widen as he realized that his question wasn’t the brightest. you watched as he fiddled with his collar and stutters over his next question.

“r-right i knew that. how long have you been working here? you look pretty young.” his tone was full of curiosity but his eyes lingered on you. even with his sunglasses on, you could feel his piercing gaze on you.

“i’ve been working here for 4 years, started when i was 22.” the conversation was then cut short after arriving in front of the door with bold lettering that spelled out ‘DEAN YAMAMOTO.’

you take a deep breath before opening the door, “principal yamamoto, this is mr.gojo. he’s megumi’s uh- guardian.”

you walk over next to megumi before kneeling down. you gently place the melting ice bag over his knuckles that he was desperately trying to hide. his expression was unreadable, there was no telling what was going through his head.

“can you stay with me..?” megumi asked gently. the principal overheard and dismissed you.

“miss. l/n, thank you for escorting mr. gojo. you may take your leave now.” before you could protest, his assistant was already at the door, waiting to take you away.

“actually, i’d prefer if miss. l/n stayed for this meeting. she was there, she’s able to provide more insight on the situation.” gojo then turns to you, “only if that’s okay with you, miss. l/n.”

by then, gojo had already taken off his sunglasses and you were able to stare into his eyes. his eyes were a beautiful icy blue and showed a rare genuine remorse most parents lack. despite not being megumi’s father, there was a charming and dedicated figure for megumi.

“of course, i’d like to start off by talking about megumi as a student.” you sit down in the middle, megumi to your right, gojo to your left. “his grades are excellent and he makes an effort in my class. i cannot speak for his other teachers but he is top of my class.”

you look over at megumi before continuing, “to make things clear, i believe fighting is never the answer. but those boys have been awful to him. i have tried everything and the school has done nothing to punish those kids.”

megumi glances at you, then back at gojo. gojo, the silly goofy man he is, is smiling ear to ear. it annoys megumi to an extent but he shrugs it off.

“and i completely agree with miss. l/n. i’d like the school to open an investigation and take a closer look on what’s been going on. it shouldn’t have taken my megumi to break a kid’s nose for something to happen.” gojo huffs out and crosses his arms while shaking his head. it’s times like these that gojo was glad he taught megumi how to protect himself.

the dean and gojo come to a conclusion. he agreed to pay for the medical expenses as long as the students were punished accordingly and put in another class. it was a win for both megumi and yourself. you no longer had to deal with their disruptive behaviors.

before heading back to your class, gojo pulls you aside. “miss. l/n, i’d like to personally thank you. your presence in that meeting truly helped megumi get out of this.”

he looks around his surroundings, analyzing it before speaking, “megumi has told me how much he loves your class, and i believe the world needs more people like yourself.”

your cheeks flushed as he grabbed both your hands and interlinked them with his. he massages your knuckles for a bit before pulling away. you watched as he pulled out an envelope from his jacket.

“if there’s anything else you need in life, please know that i’m only one phone call away.” his charming eyes stare intensely into yours as he then hands you the envelope.

before you could thank him or even question what he meant by that last sentence, megumi starts pulling him away. you watch as the 15 year old boy pushes gojo away from you, complaining how ‘weird’ he was acting.

you looked down at the envelope in your hands. your hands fiddled with it before finally opening it. as your opening it, a business card falls out.

GOJO CLAN® SATORU GOJO | HEAD OF CLAN | HEIR TO ALL PHONE : +81 ### ### #### EMAIL : gojo.satoru25@family.gojo.com WEBSITE : www.GojoClan.com

and inside the envelope, you find yourself ¥30,000.

it is currently 9:57 p.m and you’re sitting criss cross applesauce on your living room floor. you watch the envelope sitting on your coffee table. you wait for it to disappear since you refuse to believe there’s ¥30,000 in your home.

it was unbelievable that someone could willingly throw it away to somebody they did not know. it felt wrong. no, it felt dirty.

a part of you wanted to call the number on his business card, demand he take the money back and block him on everything. but ¥30,000 was just enough to cover your rent for the month.

you moved to tokyo as a foreigner a few years ago and it hasn’t been easy to keep up financially. there are many things you’ve yet to try due to your financial situation. maybe he was the blessing you needed in life.

before you could fully comprehend the situation, your phone rings. you ignore it and wait for it to stop, and it does for a minute. then it starts ringing again. it doesn’t stop until you decide to pick up.

“hello?”

“is this miss. y/n l/n?” an unfamiliar voice responds back. it was a female voice that had a stern, and demanding tone.

“yes, may i ask who this is?”

“good evening, i’m yuki tanaka and calling on behalf of mr. gojo satoru. i’m please to inform you that you have been invited to an exclusive dinner organized by mr. gojo himself.”

your brows furrowed as you listen intensely. it seemed like some odd prank pulled by one of your students. but with the information being presented, it was too elaborate for it to be a secondary student.

“the dinner shall take place this friday evening in the prestigious gojo grand hotel & resort located in central tokyo.”

you spoke up before she could continue, “i’m so sorry what did you just say? he owns a hotel?! wait- what is this about, this is so much information you process.” you mumbled the last sentence. you run your hand through your hair as you begin to piece the information together.

“i apologize for speaking too fast to your liking. shall i send an email with the details for friday’s dinner? therefore you can decide on your own time if you can RVSP.”

“y-yes! my email is y/-“

“y/n.l/n00@email.com, yes i’m aware. mr. gojo has done extensive research on you.” the lady behind the line then starts to backpedal, “i mean mr. gojo has, he has not done a background check. he- uh, i’ll send the email. have a good night.”

the line goes dead before you can further question her knowledge of your personal information. a sickening pit starts to form in your stomach. how did defending a student’s actions lead to this? then a notification on your phone pops up.

dear miss. y/n l/n,

we hope this email finds you well. we are writing this on behalf of gojo satoru, heir to the gojo clan. the details provided below are in correlation of the organized dinner.

DATE : this friday. TIME : 7:00 p.m LOCATION : gojo grand hotel & resort, private imperial room #6

we hope to see you there. warm regards, yuki tanaka & on behalf of the gojo clan

tag list: @roscpctals99 @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @n1vi @therealestpussyeater r @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @browrm @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @shivzypuff @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @lovelivelaygh1324 @mo0sin @gojoracle @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @sealsu @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @silkija @prettylvne @r0ckst4rjk @ritsatoru @starlostwish @yihona-san06 @zoeyflower @mx-mekla @iaminyourfloors @gabi-moureira @thesharkcollector @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @miffysoo @lordbugs @mimidonottouch

a/n: thank you soooo sooo much for the support & as much as i would love to rage everybody, i think i will be closing my tag list..! it’s a bit of a hassle to do it on my phone but i’ll still add you if i can!! for some reason, some ppl cannot be tagged & i’m not sure howwww to fix it. the usernames are spelled right, it just won’t pop up for some so i do apologize for that inconvenience.

[minniesmutt]

⚠︎ ━━━ BABY SHOWER

⚠︎ ━━━  WC: 0.7K

⚠︎ ━━━  CONTENT: FOOD MENTIONS, ESCOR5T REFERENCES

     Y/n felt very lucky for Jeongin’s family. By the time her and her boyfriend got to his parents house, his mom had put his brothers to work setting up. It looked great and Y/n could be happier. 

      “You know you can set up your own baby shower,” his youngest brother told him.

     “I brought the baby.” Jeongin told him

     “Y/n, are you parents coming early?” Jeongin’s mom asked 

     “My mom said they would. Depends if my dad actually gets out of the house on time.”

     “Mhm. It’s always their fault,” She agreed as Jeongin’s dad walked in from the backyard. 

     “Oh, Jeongin, have (Astrid)’s parents reached out to you?” his dad asked 

     “No. I have them blocked and my staff knows not to let them in the building. Why?”

      “Her dad showed up last night. Said they’d been looking for work. Thought you were hiring.”

     “For them? No.” Jeongin said stealing some of the snacks 

     “They’re still in town?” Y/n asked

     “Hard to leave town when you’ve practically lost all your money to pay your daughter for emotional damages.”

     “I almost forgot you all know her biological family.” Y/n stole some of the food from her boyfriend 

     “Hey!” he complained 

     Y/n smiled at him as the door opened and her parents walked in. Y/n was happy to see them and greeted them. Jeongin introduced himself to her family. Making a good impression with her dad. 

     Y/n introduced them to the rest of his family as well. Both seemingly get along well thankfully. Even after her parents interrogated Jeongin while he wrapped his arm around his girlfriend. 

     “At least we met this one,” her dad said 

     “The old one wasn’t worth meeting anyways,” Jeongin said

     A few minutes later, the door opened again and multiple voices came from the entryway. Y/n looked over to see Jeongin’s friends walking in. 

     “Congratulations!” Felix— the only one she’s met besides Jisung , just because she went to his office once around their first couple of weeks — said and hugged her.

      “Thank you!” Y/n replied, hugging him

      Jeongin introduced him to the rest of his friend group; finally getting to put names to faces. (Astrid) and Jisung showed up not long after with Deiji, laying against her dad. Jisung put his daughter up in her room to finish her nap while (Astrid) joined the group. 

     “Sleepy baby?” Minho asked

     “Fell asleep in the car,” (Astrid) said

     The group conversed a little till Jisung came back and met Y/n’s family too. Pretty soon some more of Jeongin’s family and Y/n’s friends came. Hana practically hoarding her friends from her boyfriend. 

     “Where’s my niece?” Y/n heard Seungmin ask (Astrid) 

     “Hiding from you,” she told him

     “I see why they get along,” Wooyoung commented 

     All together, the baby shower was great. Y/n got to meet her boyfriend's extended family. Grateful for all the gifts their friends and families gave to help the baby. Everyone cooing at Deiji playing with the baby and helping her aunt and uncle open the gifts. 

     “She’s practicing for her birthday,” Hyunjin joked

     “She gets enough with how much Ji buys her,” (Astrid) sighed

      “I love my baby! Sue me!” Jisung defended himself 

     “I can already see Innie going that way,” Y/n said

     “I have no idea what you mean,” Jeongin defended

     “If he doesn’t I will,” Hana said

     “I’m locking you out of the apartment,” Jeongin told her

     “She’ll find a way in,” Wooyoung added

     “I’ll help,” (Astrid) agreed 

     “(Astrid) for sure knows how to pick a lock. I’ve watched her do it at least twice,” Seungmin confirmed 

     “It’s a good thing she doesn’t have to live that life anymore,” Jeongin’s mom said 

     “If it wasn’t for Ji, I might still be.”

     “I'm the reason you guys met,” Jeongin said

     “If Ji didn’t lie about having a girlfriend they wouldn’t of met either,” Minho said 

     “That is true!” Jisung said

     They all chatted for a few more minutes before they got up and cut the cake which also revealed their little boy's name. 

     “Now you can get something with his name on it,” Seungmin told Hana

     “This kid is gonna be spoiled,” Y/n sighed

     “He already is,” Jeongin told her, kissing the side of her head

     “Gross,” his younger brother said

     Jeongin glared at him as his mom served out cake to everyone. Y/n looked around the room as everyone talked. Happy with her new family and friends.

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[its-mekjt]

watching exu prime, and oh my god, I'm trying not to cackle or else I'll wake up my siblings.

● orym and opal, dorian and dariax. every dms worst nightmare.

● ash hole

● opal shouting into thin air

● new hairdos (orym gets frosted tips)

● DARIAX PRETENDING TO BE HIS EX

● nancy.

● "but as my friend said, we have other offers to field and other people to see. very important people that we've been discussing going to see for quite a while do maybe we SHOULD GO SEE THEM." dorian was STRESSING.

● 'orym shoots dorian a look that a spouse gives to a spouse'. this is where the dorym shippers were born.

● i love when people (opal) are correct but phrases it weirdly

● "for you i could take off another 150 gold" // "okay, 900 gold got it is."

● butt stab

● orym really is the only one with a braincell. mainly by process of elimination.

● 'that's all good though. 3.'

● glitter diaper

● dorian fucking with dariax saying that he's from a long of trapeze artists and jugglers is still one of the funniest things ever

● 'what's your last goddamn name opal.'

● THE CONTEST

● dariax cosplaying as dorian

● "if you were a GEM what would you be and why?" // "i'd be a peach jam."

● dorian and dariax using the cloak and wearing each others clothes as an outfit is one of my favourite bits

● ashley johnson's laugh is addictive. i love it so much.

● opal kissing dariax cause he messed with her opponent.

● "what's your favourite flower?" // "probably oleander because it has multiple purposes. they're beautiful, they smell great and you can also kill someone if you need to."

● orym being DRAGGED on stage

● "WILL THE HALFLING LOVE, OR WILL THE HALFLING DIE?" (he did die, just a few months later)

● BEST NATURAL 20 EVER

● "DARIAX- oh the jam boy."

● people hitting on dariax gives me LIFE

● "in fairness you seem to be a little confused much of the time."

● whiskey and milk

● 10 GOLD WORTH OF PIES.

● "what's a unifying quality?" // "well, we're all pretty attractive."

● "you're not where you fell asleep." // "oh! that's... a problem."

● "i heard the voice of the spider queen giving me power but you know, nothing to worry about."

● fyra rai is contemplating EVERYTHING

● combat ended because they flipped it over

● 'i rolled a natural 1.' launches dice

● night time lullabye of hot cross buns

● dorian is mothering everyone

● titty racks

● "what is a tal'dorei."

● ALCHOHOL applause

● dariax has a good ass

● mister has performance anxiety

● "don't touch me, stranger! ew!"

● ashley's impression of dariax doing a double take at real-opal while disguised as opal

● "what head, Nancy?" HORROR MOVIE SHIT.

● orym's face as he carries the head. HILARIOUS.

[ctrlsatoru]

DIABLO CH2 - TOJI FUSHIGURO

content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. protective!toji, but also asshole!toji. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to being roofied. toji being toji. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k tags: @liitlesushi a/n: ok so this might be longer than I anticipated and also semi slow burn. it'll be worth it, trust. summary: It's Gojo's anniversary party, you're doomed by your Satoru's whims, haunted by your father's scheming, and now a devilish third player appears: Toji Fushiguro. And he's here to collect.

Toji opens his eyes, manually focusing on the strange ceiling. It twists slowly before it settles. 

This bed is not his own, he can tell from how flat the pillow feels under his head, which is throbbing painfully. He feels like a dozen horses ran over him. A voice, distinctly female, unnecessarily loud, makes him wince and curse under his breath.

“... If I agree, and I haven’t, you’re not picking my outfit. Know that .”

This is unlike him. He can’t remember a thing. The only good thing about not recognizing the bed is that he’s not gonna have to deal with a strange woman in his place–

“Because your conception of what’s socially acceptable to wear to a formal function is not tethered to earthly reality, Satoru.”

Oh.

It’s you .

You’re on the phone, standing by floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight casts off your ring like a white laser when you turn, blinding him.

“Mornin’” he croaks, pushing himself to sit against rough the rattan bed frame. The room moves from side to side, like you’re stuck in a boat instead of Haibara’s beach house. It’s all coming back to him, watching you and your boyfriend’s rowdy love spat, the deck–

“Oh. Hey, buddy.” you say idly, looking over your shoulder as you sit on the other side of the bed, your ring-covered finger tying your slutty sandals around your ankles like some shibari countess. The strap of your top falls as you lean over. Toji’s buffering.

His ears must be fucking deceiving him. Buddy?

The fuck?

He can’t for the life of him remember anything after the deck. You’re zooming through the room, texting furiously. On top of that, you look fresh and plump like lettuce out of the fridge, don’t you? But he had to blink several times to break through the layer of crust around his eyelashes, and his body is telling him you two fucked like animals for the past 12 hours.

Or he spent the weekend in the trenches. 

He feels wildly unprepared for this morning after, and it’s a just fucking relief that you’re keeping your distance until you start tap tap taping your little heels to the door.

“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”

You stop, surveying him over your shoulder like he’s coming close to being some sort of inconvenience. 

And then the corner of your lips lifts, the mole on your cheek jumping with the motion.

“It was fun.” Your phone starts ringing again. The sound drills a hole into Toji’s temples. “Too bad that it never happened.”

With that, you’re gone. 

You leave Toji with a bunch of unconscious people scattered around the house and Haibara, who’s still young enough to not know what a real hangover is. The kid will just not shut up about some hardcore surveillance system he had installed around the house recently after he noticed someone was stealing from his Kaws collection.

Toji listens to the whole story, sipping on the cold pressed green juice Haibara made himself, simply refusing to use the crystal straw, and makes a promise to himself. You’ll pay for whatever it is you did to him.

Even if he doesn’t remember what that was. Yet. It doesn’t matter. You’ll pay anyway. Nicely. 

“Say, kid.” he asks Haibara, licking the green foam off his lips and putting down the empty glass on the counter. The juice tasted just like it looks, which is cow puke, but his mind is somewhere else. Machinating. Scheming. 

“This system of yours, does it cover the whole house?”

Here’s the thing.

There are many things Toji isn’t. 

For starters, he’s not easily bothered by most things, a trait that people usually mistake for a personal attack, like it has anything to do with them and isn’t just the hand that he was dealt. People assume others, in this case him, think about them more than he can be bothered to. 

He’s not a control junkie either, not anymore. He left those days behind.

Control isn’t something he needs to worry about anymore. He has plenty of it. If something gets out of line, it gets back on it automatically. That’s just the way life is. Sure, he had his vices back then; lactose, gambling, adrenaline, women. 

But the thing is, you learn a few things with age, right? Shiny things lose their sparkle. The excitement wears off. Nothing is safe from becoming predictable, not even the rush of hearing bone crack under his fists or the juiciest, tightest pussy presented to him on a tray.

And this sheds a light on the fact that he’s way past the age of being pussy whipped.

“You cannot be serious.”

So why the fuck is Shiu Kong looking at him like that? 

And who does he think he is standing next to him, all up on his screen, and mind you, only alive thanks to the fact that Toji has lost some edge from his gory days?

He shuts down the tab like a kid who got caught watching porn on the family PC.

“You listen to me. Don’t you ever fucking do that–”

“The Gojo kid?” 

Toji’s eyebrows dig into his face because you’re certainly not a kid. No. Far from it. Kids don’t go around feeding people horse tranquilizer or whatever the fuck it is you fed him with that glossy mouth of yours. And that’s what you did. That’s as far as he can remember. 

“Is that what’s been–”

“I’m gonna stop you before you say some dumb shit and piss me off any further.”

Shiu’s been pestering him for days now about the upcoming iteration and the threat of several deadlines. Toji has been brushing it off. No nagging back or shutting down his complaints. 

Somehow, his silence only pushes the stick up Shiu’s ass even. Like he’s his sexually neglected wife of 40 years.

Truth is, he hasn’t given the dynamic with his CFO/best friend much thought lately. Why would he when there’s an infuriating, mouthy woman with siren eyes that look down at him even when he’s about two heads taller than– 

You.

“–stalking the poor girl on the desktop version of Instagram.”

Toji returns to the conversation. “I don’t stalk people. I’m a grown-ass man.”

And you’re not a girl either. You’re something else. He hasn’t figured it out yet.

“Mm. So am I.” Shiu says, still standing there with his hands in his pants pockets, head tilting down at some forgotten paperwork on his desk. “And even I know looking at someone’s profile on a desktop computer is a concerning level of unemployment, which you’re not at. Yet.” 

Toji’s not that thick-headed. He knows he’s been distracted, but he can’t just brush away the mystery of what went down that night at Haibara’s. 

You pop up in his head unannounced and make yourself comfortable, rent fucking free. Like a little squatter. In the middle of meetings, on the drive back home, at the gym, when he’s at his favorite club with a gorgeous and willing girl on his lap. 

It’s becoming so frustrating that he’s started to despise you for real, and not just the made-up version of yourself he created when he met you and decided you were an ill-mannered bunny that he wanted to toy with for a bit.

In this scenario, of course, he was a wolf.

No one ever talks about how sometimes the bunny roofies the wolf and bolts the morning after.

Days pass and his mind is blank of memories, no glimpses, no time-stopping sex flashbacks, just a bunch of vivid dreams about you that distract him to the point of burning his toast one morning and nearly knocking the front teeth off his trainer’s face.

Toji’s positive you didn’t fuck. Sure, you had a bit of bed hair, but your face lacked the I-was-fucked-by-the-Toji-Fushiguro glaze he was used to seeing in women and took pride in. You looked perfectly fine, unfucked enough to be giving hell to your dimwit brother on the phone and fuck with him before disappearing.

It was fun.

He was also wearing underwear, and you walked just fine. No wobbly legs or tilted hips. No bruises on your neck or scratches on his back– 

Too bad that it never happened.

You had shared a bed, that much he knew. He caught a whiff of your perfume after you left. He had cursed you then, feeling like a pathetic fucking dog sniffing up some pillows, but now the confusion and annoyance faded to a curiosity that extends past the time in his head he gives to even the best lays he’s had. 

So he put up an incognito tab and looked you up hoping to find something corny or annoying about you to make you unappealing, and somehow he landed on your personal IG profile. 

You posted a set of pictures three days ago of meaningless corners at some random location. The fourth picture is a snap of what looks like your desk. By the corner, there’s a polaroid of you and your fiancé. 

You’re standing in front of the guy, leaning your head to the side with his chin resting nice and cozy on your shoulder, his nose pressed against your neck. It pulled a dry snort from the depths of his chest.

He found your twitter account as well, because why not? And finds nothing interesting there. You stick to promoting your work and hardly communicate. Other people in your circle, on the other hand…

Toji went through a twitter phase not too long ago. He found endless amusement in pissing people off with less than 140 characters and replying to those who enjoyed his work. He uninstalled the app the second he found people selling mugs with screencaps of his tweets. 

Safe to say the decision made Shiu’s and the PR team quite happy. 

He’s out of the loop with the overall discourse, but it’s clear that you have farmed your own dedicated micro following online and your boyfriend’s some kind of underground A24 flowerboy on the rise. 

The both of you, as a couple, act like viagra for a very specific, insufferable and presumptuous crowd. They’re hyper-focused on the fact that you haven’t posted him on your stories lately and that Hiroki allegedly deleted some posts with you on Instagram.

Kids these days. As short as life is, and the things they waste their time on… 

“Please tell me that’s not her twitter account,” Shiu says. Toji’s hands twitch. “This is more pathetic than I thought. No wonder you haven’t gotten anything done in days.”

Toji kills the rest of the tabs, spitting over his shoulder “I can’t very well do my fucking job if you’re breathing over my fucking shoulder, can I? You know how I fucking feel about people standing behind me when I’m trying to get shit done.”

“ Twitchy .” Shiu notes and takes his sweet time walking around his desk, plopping down on the seat in front of him.

“Yep, take a seat, why don’t you.” Toji grumbles.

His partner and oldest friend crosses his legs in front of him and taps his fingers on his knee, a sign that he’s craving a cigarette.

“So I’m gonna take a leap of faith here and assume this is some kind of executive-level scheming, and you’re just exploiting a vulnerability.”

Toji’s face twists like he sucked on a lemon at the mere thought of it. 

“You know damn well the day I do business with that old cunt will be the day your ex-wife comes clean about what she did at that yoga retreat in Bali and asks for forgiveness.”

“Figures. So?”

“You’d probably take her back. Fucking cuck.”

“She really got under your skin, didn’t she?” Shiu notes, not at all bothered by the unprovoked attacks. 

Toji sniffs, comes down from the spike of anger, and finds a more comfortable position on his chair.

“She owes me.”

Shiu leans his head back, mildly amused. 

“You adding usury to your ledger now?”

“Not money.”

“Alright then, I don’t want to know.” Lies. But Shiu knows better than to push too much. Toji’s the type to hoard details not because he’s afraid of compromise, just to be an asshole. 

It’s refreshing to see him almost… desperate. If you were anything like your brother, Shiu thought, you might be just the perfect little karma agent for his best friend.

“Fine. You get that business sorted. You’re no use to me if you’re distracted.”

“You worry about sorting your own business and I’ll worry about mine, Kong.”

Shiu stands up, fighting back a smile until he opens the door, stopping at the sight of Toji’s assistant about to knock.

“What is it?” Toji asks, scratching his eyebrow, already exhausted.

Keiko looks down at the tablet in her hands, hesitant.

“The team at Gojo Corp has reached out, sir. It seems Gojo Shinobu would like to invite you to dinner next week.”

The look on Shiu’s face as he slowly turns to face him is priceless. Toji rests his elbows on his desk, a sinister smile pulling at his scar.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?”

“Interesting indeed.” Shiu agrees. Keiko eyes them skeptically.

“I better get to work then, eh?”

“Anytime would be nice, yes.” Shiu says, turning to Keiko. “I guess I’ll finally find out about Bali, then.”

So you might think, look at him backtracking like that. 

Don’t get him wrong, it’s nothing like that.

Toji’s sitting across from Gojo Shinobu, the man, the myth, the bigot himself, with absolutely no intention of making business with him.

He’s just sniffing the territory.

And he almost regrets it. The man is a disturbingly aged mixture of you and your brother: the hair and the uncanny valley eyes went to him, but the eyebrows, the slope of his nose, it’s you. Even the handshake, firm and tight like a war general, reminds Toji of you.

Gojo Shinobu’s old as the fucking bible. His eyes are graying, eyelids sagging, but he’s still got it for sure. 

Let’s make one thing clear, Toji doesn’t like the old fart. He represents many things that he despises about older generations, and his business model is one of the many reasons for the country living in the past, but he’s not about to get political. 

Not liking Gojo Shinobi doesn’t mean he doesn’t have some respect for him, so he’s honest and immediately shuts down the proposal of Gojo Corp. being involved in future Diablo releases.

Dignified. Not happy. But never one to see a no for what it is, Shinobu just smiles, brushes his beard like a Ghibli villain, and switches the subject.

Alcohol involved and pretending to put business talk aside, the conversation flows easily. Your father has a surprisingly entertaining dry sense of humor. Toji supposes you stop giving a shit when you have one foot in the grave.

“I hear you have a kid.”

“Two kids.” Toji says, remembering that he’s supposed to pick up Tsumiki in an hour. Ballet class. She’s getting rather serious about it. “A girl and a boy.”

“Ah, good balance.” Shinobu nods with a knowing smile. “They listen to you? How old are they?”

“15 and 16. And they do.”

They don’t, because they’re teenagers, not soldiers. Megumi and Tsumiki are good kids, certainly better than he was at their ages, they don’t need him ordering them around.

“Dangerous, dangerous age.” your father hums. “You make sure they do that, save yourself the bitterness in the future.”

Damn. Alright. Toji lifts his eyebrows and leans in, listening. That’s all it takes.

“You’d be surprised. You get a little too light handed, and a perfect sapling can get ruined just like that.” he snaps his fingers. “It’s harder to straighten them up as they grow up.”

Toji takes a long, good sip, fighting back a chuckle. He has no concerns when it comes to who or how people choose to fuck, but the blatant homophobia is always amusing.

“Or worse, they’ll gang up on you.” Shinobu scoffs “No wife? You raising them on your own?”

“I am.”

“Good man. It’s hard, honest work. Make sure you look for a good one to settle with, not all of them are in touch with their motherly instinct.”

His assistant comes in, tells him someone has arrived.

Shinobu makes a noise with his nose or mouth that reminds Toji of an exasperated horse.

“Take the advice from me. You see–”

He leans over the table, brushes his beard. 

“If, and I’m not wishing this upon you, your daughter comes of age and– after years of picking up and dropping all sorts of interests with no interest in commitment, she  comes to the conclusion that she wants to waste her life playing with cameras and hanging out with gender-bending creatives ,”

The word is said with so much despise Toji feels like there should be a new phobia for it

“–you have to sit down and choose what’s more important; letting her waste her potential away, or being in her good graces. Sometimes it can’t be both, that’s just how it is.”

Perhaps Toji hasn’t given you enough credit. You could’ve ended up a lot worse than you are. You could’ve murdered him and kept him in your fridge instead of drugging him, and he’d kind of understand why.

“But when she tells you she wants to let some bland dimwit into your family and make him blood, you take matters into your own hands.” he nods firmly, like it’s Toji he’s mad at, and finally looks over his shoulder, nostrils flared.

Asaya Hiroki approaches the table. Jetlagged eyes, tail between his legs.

“Fushiguro, this is Asaya Hiroji, my daughter’s boyfriend.” he says, with a meaningful side eye. Hiroki looks like he has half a mind to correct him on either the name or relationship status but he’s too fond of keeping his head attached to his body.

You were right, Hiroki’s pretty. Toji can’t compete in that department. He looks like he puts sugar and milk on his tea and smashes the china on the floor when he’s told he can’t have more, like a psychotic puppy. 

In other words, both of you make sense together. 

You like to look at pretty things so your boyfriend’s cute. No harm in acknowledging that, though he remembers Tsumiki mentioning that when noses dip down like that it means there’s some kind of prosthetic. 

And if you pay attention, really read between the lines of his 90’s film heartthrob face, something’s off with him, isn’t it?

But what does he care? A nose job is no crime. Hiroki has other flaws to offer. For example, he has a rather shitty way of hiding the fact that he’s doing something he’s not supposed to right now. 

Perhaps, even, going behind someone’s back.

And the guy calls himself an actor.

Satisfied with the results of what he thought would be a waste of an afternoon, He excuses himself. If he leaves now, he’ll be in time to get to Tsumiki’s class before it’s done and have the other kids’ moms and nannies ogle at him. Tsumiki hates it when he does that.

“Don’t be a stranger, Fushiguro. I’d like to keep this channel between us open. I hope to see you at the anniversary party.”

“Pardon?” Toji stops, surprised.

“The company’s anniversary party, this Friday,” Shinobu says, like it’s obvious. “I’d like you to meet my son, and well, you’re already acquainted with my daughter.”

Hiroki’s round bobba eyes follow him all the way to the grand crystal doors. Toji has the distinct feeling that he was just part of Shinobu taking matters into his own hands. 

He’s both disturbed and impressed. He never mentioned meeting you, and he’s pretty damn sure that this didn’t slip from your lips either.

 

Every year the company throws an anniversary party, and you and your brother and every high-level employee have to attend and listen to your father’s rendition of why diesel was better and how you’re all wimps for being born after the extinction of smallpox. 

The one year that you didn’t attend, because you were stuck in Norway with a canceled flight, your father spent exactly 11 months reminding you of it like you had any say in the weather conditions of the North Sea.

Tonight might be his last speech as chairman, not because he’s dying or anything, but because he’s about to step down from his position after growing health concerns. 

Suguru approaches you at the empty family table with a flute, sitting down next to you with a lift of his eyebrow. He’s looking as handsome as ever, dressed in black, with his hair tied back, but you much prefer the bangs framing his face.

“So, when do you think he’s going to publicly execute the medical staff that diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s?”

He chuckles, fingers tapping the table. “Probably after he declares war on Gretha Thunberg.”

You’re wary. He might have everyone convinced, but it’s not like him to step down quietly. Your instincts are telling you to expect shenanigans tonight, and they’ve never once failed you.

“Seems too good to be true, don’t you think?” you say, eyeing the crowd around you. “I don’t know how Satoru’s so cool about it.”

Suguru sighs, craning his neck. “I wouldn’t say he is.”

And of course, that’s when your brother slams his palm on the table and makes you jump in surprise. He leans over the two of you, eyeing the room like it’s the school cafeteria and he’s the king of prom.

And he kind of is. Today your father will officially name him his successor, so the sour look in his face makes you and Suguru share a look.

“Do you see Hideo Kojima on steroids hanging out with Nanamin? I guess next year we’ll have the Yakuza on the jazz band.”

You laugh, only half weirded out, not interested in knowing what he’s talking about, unlike Suguru who looks up at your brother, confused.

“ Who? ”

“ Toji Fushiguro. ” Gojo drawls, icily amused, and your neck turns so fast Suguru worries it’ll break. “And his underling.”

Remember your intuition? Red sirens start ringing in your head, and the edges of your vision start staining in with a deep burgundy color.

What on earth is he–

“Dad invited him.” Satoru says, still not sitting down and still scanning the room with deadly eyes. You feel the urge to look around and pinpoint his exact location, but you wait for him to point with his chin. “They’ve been seeing each other. Mimosas and manicures, I heard.”

You find him across the room, just over the elevated candles in the middle of your table, talking with Nanami and some man you don’t recognize. 

You fight the weak but sensible urge to look away when he suddenly turns to your table with an unreadable expression and lifts his glass in your direction, like he felt the shit talking from a distance.

The room is vast, but you recognize the feeling of his eyes looking straight at you. Your brother is too occupied cursing under his breath while he lifts his glass to notice you gulping.

“You think dad’s hitting that?”

You try not to gag. “You’re sick.”

“Cause someone will owe me a loooot of money if that’s the case.” he taunts. You both placed a bet on whether your father is bisexual or not years ago. “Look at him, standing there like he’s threatening to swipe all the fertile wives in the room. Freak.”

You snort on your drink, a bit of it goes down the wrong pipe, Suguru pats your back.

“You better hold on to yours then.”

“Nah, he’s locked in. Ain’t cha , babes?”

You roll your eyes, feeling Suguru shake his head with a lovesick smirk. Your brother replies with a wink, lazily dropping his weight on the chair next to you, like you need to be in the middle of all that.

You lean back, stretching your neck. “Ok, you can back up a little. It’s embarrassing enough to be matching with you.”

Satoru stretches his arm over your now empty seat. They’ve been purposefully keeping a distance, him and Suguru, people assume it’s for appearances sake, but you know them better than that. They’re playing some game tonight, and you’d rather pluck out your lashes one by one than learn the details.

“And I distinctly remember asking you to stop feeding into those fucked up theories online about me terrorizing you as a child, but you had to take those creepy family portraits with the heads cut off. We don’t always get what we want, sis.”

And don’t you know that. Tonight was stressing enough without 6’ something with a lip scar, ever so subtly following with his eyes as you make your way around the party. Not too obvious for an outsider to notice, but just enough to make the exposed hairs at the back of your neck stand up.

You’re a little too energized. Like too many shots of espresso after an allnighter. It makes no sense to start feeling threatened by Toji Fushiguro tonight, when he’s in your territory, but you do. 

But you weren’t raised in your father’s household to be so easily intimidated, so you mingle, let people stop you for quick, boring catch ups and questions about being excited about your brother and what-have-you-been-up -tos, even those whose faces or names you can’t recall. You smile, entertain and even ask people about their whereabouts, until you’re out of social battery for the rest of the month.

“Took you long enough.” you say, making a point of not looking at him.

His voice comes closer than you expected or feel comfortable with. Smooth and dark, in through your left ear.

“Patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”

His presence is more unnerving than you geared up for, and just like the first time, a shiver cuts through you. Something urges you to move and take a step sideways, out of the magnetic pull around him. 

You finally take him in. Tailored tuxedo, slightly tousled black hair that you know for a fact is unfairly soft, exuding confidence. Never in your life had you encountered someone as infuriating and intoxicating as him.

“Are you my new stepdaddy?”

A slap to his face would’ve stunned him less. Hell, he might’ve enjoyed it. You don’t give him a chance. His pants have no business getting tighter from that fucking question.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Toji hums, hands in his pockets, playing off the fact that you’ve been talking for ten seconds and he’s already fighting the urge to devour you where you stand. 

“Depends.”

You lift an eyebrow. 

“You into that kind of thing?”

You scoff, dismissive as always, but suspiciously purse your lips to one side before taking a sip of your drink.

Head held high, nose up in the air. Toji takes your profile in. The light bouncing off the high points of your face, the deliberate, doll-like curl of your lashes, the soft slope of your neck and the dips and curves of your shoulders. Your dress painted a nice image in his head of your body from afar, so he refrains from going past your collarbones.

“What? No comeback? I’m disappointed.”

“I didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”

“Like I said, patience is a virtue.”

You roll your eyes and laugh dismissively. “You don’t believe that.”

“Bold assumption.” he counters. “I wanted to see how long you’d last entertaining guests, but then your right eye started twitching and I suppose took some pity on you.”

“Aren’t you an empath.”

“Even to those who don’t deserve it.”

Your chin quivers, but you keep the smile to yourself with a quick sigh. Toji could look down at the way your chest rises and drops, but he’s not in a rush here. 

“Why are you here?”

“Is that any way to speak to a guest? I’m sure Shinobu raised you better than that.”

Name dropping your father gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.

“Why are you here?” you repeat, enunciating slowly, but the words you want to say are dont fuck with me right now.

But you’re too precious for him to deny himself the pleasure. Not when your eyebrows tremble like that. 

“Your father was kind enough to invite me. It would’ve been rude to turn him down.”

“You’re not here to entertain him. He’s stepping down soon and you can’t stand him.”

“Me disagreeing with his work ethics doesn’t mean that I don’t respect him.” You laugh, loud and clear, not caring for the heads turning your way. “Why else would I waste a perfectly nice friday night surrounded by a bunch of suck ups? Are you suggesting I have some ulterior motive?”

Your squint at him, like you don’t believe he has the guts to say it.

“Did you perhaps assume I’m here for… you ?”

Toji wonders if your silence has anything to do with the white haired manchild looking your way for the second time.

“We do have something to settle. You owe me something, if I remember correctly.” 

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

“Nice try. An explanation, does that ring any bells?” 

Your head snaps up to him, the wisps of hair hanging from the sides of your face flow with the movement. The tip of your nose and your cupid’s bow catch the light, if he couldn’t see your face this close he’d mistake that for sweat. 

He’s reminded of how you looked at the deck in contrast to the sight of you right now. A sheer layer of sweat was covering your skin, your plump thighs spilling on the wood surface, he kept his hands in his phone and held on to his own sanity.

“What is there to explain? Nothing happened.”

Toji tilts his head. “Lying is a bad, bad thing,” 

“We didn’t do anything, Fushiguro.” you insist, lowering your voice. Toji looks over your head, bored with your attempts at gaslighting. “If you–”

“You wanna dance?” 

The nonchalant act drops, you unconsciously lean back and open your mouth like there’s not enough air in the room. Toji smirks at your hesitation, cold, challenging

“It’s in your best interest.”

“How?”

“Because the old cunt that kept kissing your hand earlier is coming our way and I’m about to leave you alone with him” he lies and you don’t dare look over your shoulder to check, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the slimmy fucker.

It’s a bad idea. Being near Toji is a bad idea, dancing with him is the equivalent of putting on a vest bomb. Your father is somewhere in the room and your brother might act aloof but not a single interaction of his interest is going unnoticed. 

Putting your hand in his is a bad, bad idea. The worst. But you suspect figuring out Toji Fushiguro’s intentions will take some compromise on your part, so you don’t hesitate when you grab his hand.

With his arm around you, Toji sees flashes of a particularly vivid dream he had about you days ago. The first thing he did when he woke up from it was open his app notes and write two words, perverse angel . Now he knows it was actually deja vu; you close your eyes for a bit, the breathing image of reminiscing. This isn’t your first time in his arms.

The melody gets rather slow. You hold yourself with all the poise of a reluctant little heiress, defiant but serene as you look at him, arm resting over his.

While he’s growing quite fond of the sight of your neck exposed, he’d rather find the main pin and let your hair down. Let you get comfortable, not taut like you are in his hold.

“You look like a tall pint of guinness.”

Toji could do this all night. Just watch your expression drop, annoyance pinch at your temples.

One ankle betrays you, but he’s not about to let that happen. The arm around your waist keeps you steady, moving along with him. His grip is firm, but not overpowering.

“You’re an asshole.” You say like you just discovered it tonight.

He’s right. You know it and you hate that he described it so right. You’re dressed in a black, sleek and form fitting dress that goes down to your ankles and the top is made of an off-shoulder white band that wraps around your shoulders.

Toji laughs with that shark grin of his, his scar stretching. 

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” He adds helpfully, hand coming up to straighten the white fabric around your left shoulder. The air turns colder with the absence of his arm, but it returns to the spot in no time. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, granted, but it’s a lovely dress. Perfect for a night at the pub, watching the game with the boys.”

Your lips curl in distaste. “I think I’ll pass on the unsolicited fashion advice, thanks.”

“Come on. You can never go wrong with a red dress.” he counters, eyes dropping briefly. You wrinkle your nose, he takes offense. “ What? ”

“Not my style” you shrug.

He hums sarcastically. “Now that’s just tragic.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to wear one to your funeral.”

The couples closest to you turn with different looks of controlled distaste. Toji laughs heartily, head thrown back and everything. 

“I’ll hold you to that. I might just return just to see it with my own eyes.”

“Not sure doors open both ways in hell, but hey, more power to you.” 

“So you wanna hear my theory?”

You sigh. “Nothing happened, Toji. I mean it.”

What a terrible liar you are.

“I think you had a little alcohol in you, were fresh off a fight with your boyfriend, and just couldn’t help yourself because you have a thing for problems.”

You nod sarcastically. “And of course, you’re the problem in question.”

“Well, yes.” he blinks. “And you don’t have half the self control you believe you have. So you freaked out and put me to sleep to stop yourself from doing something you thought you might regret.”

This is how it was. You had forgotten the rush, despite replaying time and time again your past conversations. Interacting with Toji Fushiguro’s like playing five finger filet, thrilling and grueling and high risk, but it’s a whole other thing with people around you. You can’t let up, all your senses need to be on guard.

“Aren’t you too old to be throwing a fit because I gave you more than you could handle?”

Toji’s eyes dig into yours, a hint of amusement and something else.

“Here’s a piece of advice: choose your words very, very carefully. They might come back to haunt you. ”

“It never happened. And it won’t.” You repeat with a cool tone. The pulse on your wrist drums against his own. 

“I have to say, you’re a better actress than he is.” he mentions. “But denial does not suit you. We’re gonna have to do something about that or things will get very awkward real soon.”

“Actually I think we should focus on your rejection issues first.”

“I’m not a problem for you to solve, sweetheart.” he chuckles darkly, eyes knowing, never leaving yours. Years of practicing the art of bullshitting in your household could not help you deny the attraction. “What you see is what you get. And you can, when you stop being a little coward.”

He makes you turn effortlessly, that’s when you see it. The words die on your lips, your stomach drops, all resolve wavers. Toji releases you, and your arms hang limp on your sides.

He licks his scar and smirks sideways at you, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You should fix your face, sweets, ‘cause I won’t behave if he wants to pick a fight.” 

You’ve always liked Nanami Kento. He’s one of your father’s closest advisors, the pathological victim of Gojo’s pestering, and always impeccably polite to you, sweet even. But right now, when he’s introducing Toji Fushiguro and his friend to Suguru and Hiroki, you’d love to hit him in the head with a hammer.

At least your brother is nowhere to be seen.

"Pleasure to meet you," Suguru says.

Hiroki has a hand around your waist, he’s not looking at you, but you know what the dimpling of his cheeks mean. 

“We’ve met before actually, haven’t we?” Toji turns to him, brow burying into his face like he’s not too sure. “Correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t remember too well.”

Your heart is stuck in your neck, threatening to crawl out of your mouth. Suguru gives you an odd look.

“We have.” You don’t see the look on Hiroki’s face when he replies, but his tone is controlled.

“Yeah, I thought so.” 

Shiu Kong says something, and Suguru responds accordingly. 

You grab a drink from a passing tray and the corner of Toji’s mouth tilts, his attention on Suguru’s conversation. You feel irrationally mad, you feel like slapping him, but then he’d probably fix his jaw and look at you like you should go rougher and–

There’s something seriously wrong with you.

You grab Hiroki’s hand and pull him with you.

He’s confused but follows you nonetheless. “Can you just wait for a–”

“We should ditch the party.” You say, but he doesn’t agree like he usually would and grabs your arm, stopping you at once, brown eyes searching yours.

“You’re not even gonna ask why I’m here?”

“My dad invited you?” you reply, confused by the offended look on his face.

He makes a strange face. “ No . Why would he? You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”

Now you’re confused. You smell his breath and notice his flushed cheeks. “But you’re here.”

“Wow. Try to contain the excitement, why don’t you.” he scoffs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly across continents and interrupt whatever the hell that wa–”

He’s starting to raise his voice, drawing attention, usually composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. You catch the smell of his breath and put two and two together. 

“You’ve been drinking.”

His face drops. The volatile look in his eyes is not something you can deal with tonight.

You’re forever grateful for the woman announcing your father’s speech. Hiroki’s expression clears up, but he gives you a look that says you’ll resume the conversation later, soon, tonight . 

Then he puts his arm around you, pulls you to his side, and leads you closer to the podium.

Your father looks into the crowd with piercing blue eyes. You have a bad feeling. Like if you were to take a picture right now, it would later be displayed as the moment before hell broke loose.

“... And as many of you know, the time has come for me to step back and allow a new generation to lead us forward."

The crowd hangs on his every word. You scan the room for the 10th time, worried eyes looking for a head full of white hair.

Hiroki notices your unease and looks down at you, rubbing your arm. “Hey, what is it?”

“I don’t see Satoru.”

Your father continues, voice unwavering. 

"It is with great confidence and optimism that I announce my successor, a person who embodies the values and vision of our company." 

You finally find Satoru at the back, he’s with Suguru and Nanami. Waving his arms around him, pissed .

"Please join me in welcoming the next CEO of Gojo Corp, Noritoshi Kamo."

The room erupts into applause, but before his words can fully register, a sudden, sharp crack echoes through the hall. For a split second, confusion takes over, and then it turns to full blown panic.

You see your father go down and your legs move on their own

Gunshots.

People are running, ducking and diving for cover all around you. Tables are overturned and glass shatters.

"Get down!" someone shouts. 

Someone slams into you. 

Toji helps you up. Quick eyes locating an exit and going for it.

“My dad.” you protest, trying to look over your shoulder, and Toji has half a mind to fully pick you up.

“He’s fine.” he assures, hand covering your head, pulling it down.

Security sprung into action in no time at the first gunshot, formed a barrier around him and hurried the old man out of the stage. Toji had seen it with his own eyes right before he caught you running like a tweaking baby reindeer, and saw some piece of shit slam himself into you.

You keep protesting and trying to go in the opposite direction, and Toji’s positive the gunman hasn’t been taken down yet so he throws you over his shoulder and slams the exit door open, leading you down the corridor.

You’re livid, fists slamming into his back without mercy. Toji puts you down when he’s comfortable in the emptiness of the sterile hallway. Eyes still looking over your head as you give him an earful.

“Shut the fuck up for a second, will you?”

You’re just flabbergasted, opening your mouth again in full Karen fashion

Toji doesn’t care for it. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” you reply furiously, fist tight on your sides. You catch your breath, step down from your heels and start to speed walk. “I need to find my father– I need to– Satoru –”

“They’re safe.” Toji says on your side. “Gojo’s security doesn’t fuck around. I mean they did fuck up letting a guy bring a gun inside the premises, but they were quick with it.”

Your nostrils flare. Toji hears voices at the corner and pushes you behind him, he sees a couple of guys in black in the reflection, wired ears, walking like they know they might lose their jobs tonight.

“Hey, I got the heiress here. She’s looking for her old man.”

Escorted by them, you two rendezvous with your father in some conference room upstairs. The altercation can be heard from outside. 

“It’s for the best. You don’t understand the full picture.”

Nanami, your father’s closest advisors, everyone is gathered here. Someone says the police have arrived. You pay them no mind, eyes stuck on your father and your brother.

Satoru starts pacing and turns to face Shinobu. 

“No, I understand all of it. You’re too fucking prideful to let me fix what you did.”

Getting caught in a family brawl was not in Toji’s plans tonight, but he stays put, watching you approach them with confusion all over your face. They don’t seem to notice you. 

Gojo Shinobu levels his son with warning eyes, finger pointed at him. “Watch your words, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re talking about. My decision is final.”

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m talking about.” Satoru shoots back. “You know I can do it. You just can’t stand the thought of me succeeding where you fucking failed.” 

It’s clear on the look on your face that you don’t know what your brother is talking about, and that you’re in no headspace to ask either. The words hit your father square in the chest. 

Things are about to get bloody.

“You think you’re ready for this? You’re nothing but a spoiled, entitled brat who thinks he deserves everything handed to him on a silver platter. Look at what you’ve made of your life, acting like everything is a fucking game. You think I’ll let someone like you lead what I spent my life building?”

“Jesus christ, dad.” you say in disbelief, giving your brother a careful look. 

Satoru’s eyes flash.

“Over my dead fucking body.”

Your brother’s face contorts in rage, he lunges forward, fist aimed at your father’s face. No one, not even the army of security is as fast as you going after him, but it’s ultimately Toji who cuts in, strong hand catching Gojo’s arm, stopping him mid swing.

Blue crazy and uncanny eyes land on him. As a general rule, Toji does not get in other people’s business, particularly not love spats or family drama, but he means it when tells your brother:

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” 

Your father collects his features and chuckles mockingly. Shaking his head, letting himself be escorted away by an assistant that is most definitely underpaid for shit like this and a wall of security men.

Gojo drops his arm, watching his father walk away, chest heaving up and down. 

“Toru?”

It’s weird on you. The look of being lost and confused. Small in the middle of a family brawl. It’s not right.

“What was that?” You ask, voice nothing like Toji has heard before. 

“Not now,” your brother snaps, turning around and walking in the opposite direction, Geto Suguru quickly joining his side.

Toji’s phone starts ringing. Shiu, probably wondering where the fuck he is. He walks away to answer, hoping one of the security guys eyeing him does something stupid like trying to stop him.  

Shiu’s waiting for him outside, lets him know that the police caught the guy, and helpfully lets him know he saw some people they know act like fools in the midst of the chaos. Toji takes a deep breath, and yet again, against his own rules, tells him to give him the details later and to leave without him, not answering any questions about his whereabouts. 

With your father leaving the crowd has dispersed. Your boyfriend, god knows where he came from, is trying to get you to reason with him in a corner of the room.

Toji stays put and watches it.

“Why?” he asks you. He has his grip on both your arms, like he’s trying to shake something out of you. You’re looking at him like he grew a second head. “We talked about it all the time, we always said–”

“What do you mean why ? Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave Satoru alone right now, Hiroki.”

“Well in case you didn’t notice he just fucking left you here.” he snaps at you. 

You flinch. Recoil. Pull away from him.

“Let go, Hiroki. I’m sorry but I can’t deal with you tonight.”

“You can’t? Right. You can’t. Tell me something, do you have any idea what kind of shit I’ve had to put up with–”

You snarl at him, baring your teeth, pulling away to no avail. Bare feet stomping on the carpeted floor. Hiroki doesn’t even sway with your attempts, or flinch at the near animalistic way you look at him. 

“I fucking don’t. And I don’t want to know. I didn’t ask you to be here tonight.”  you reply, tone vicious, jaw locked. “You don’t get to hold it against me.”

The next thing Hiroki says flows out easily out of his mouth, like it’s known, or an acceptable thing to say to the woman you’re going to marry. 

“They don’t give a shit about you. You know that.”

The piece of shit is not letting up, you gasp when he fixes his grip on you. 

Toji walks over you, gets between you, way too close to his pretty face. The abrupt interruption startles Hiroki and gives you an advantage; you step back, free at last.

“I think that’s enough.”

“Well, this is just great.” Hiroki chortles, looking away like he’s collecting his thoughts. Biting his lips in contemplation. “You know, I keep seeing you everywhere lately, why is that?”

Toji shrugs. He’s not gonna punch his pretty teeth into his face even if he oh so desperately wants to. You’ve had a long night, and he’s gonna have a hard time forgetting how you looked earlier when your moron of a brother brushed you off and left you behind, standing with your heels hanging from your hand.

Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna give the boy something to pop a vein about. “Why don’t you take a guess, hm?”

Hiroki’s eyes land on you. Lids heavy. Toji confirms everything he suspected about him. 

And he makes a decision. He’s gonna get rid of him.

“Are you fucking him?”

How predictable. Toji looks at you over his shoulder, and somehow you understand the silent question. You shake your head.

“You have to leave.” you sound a lot more like yourself now. Except tired. Really exhausted. Like your feet are about to give out under you. Toji is not blind to the way you’ve been putting all your weight on one foot.

Hiroki pauses, realization lands on him that you’re talking to him, and not Toji.

“Get on a plane, fly back to Spain, and stay there for as long as you have to.”

“This is fucking unbelievable.” 

“I disagree. Have a safe flight.”

Hiroki stomps past and hits his shoulder against an unfazed Nanami Kento, who looks back at him like he’s a speck of dust. He asks if everything is fine, examining Toji thoroughly. You seem to be surrounded by assholes at all times.

You nod, ask about your dad. He’s currently talking to the police. Nanami insists on getting you a car, tells you to rest, but you hesitate.

“I can take her home.” Toji says, surprising himself yet again. You look at him, then at Nanami, and following his lead you surprise him when you nod.

“Are you sure?” Nanami repeats. 

“Yes. Keep me posted?”

The blonde man’s eyes soften just a bit, he touches your shoulder, promises he will. He doesn’t keep his eyes off Toji until you walk out of the door.

Toji thinks that maybe he does like the guy, stick up his ass and all.

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘◞ 𝑻𝒁¹¹

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ trevor tries to convince you to skip your morning workout and stay in bed with him

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ oh to have sleepy trevor trying to coax me back into bed. been in my trevor era lately.

you sigh watching the coffee slowly pour into your cup. you desperately needed the caffeine after getting up this early. it was 7am on a Saturday and you wanted nothing more than to get back in bed and sleep in 'til noon, but you couldn't. you and trevor were attending a friend's birthday lunch that would probably go until late afternoon, and if you didn't go to the gym now, you wouldn't have time to go at all.

usually you wouldn't be opposed to just skipping a gym session, especially if you had plans but you had already skipped 2 days this week and you didn't want to skip another. a creak in the door made you turn your head towards the left where a very sleepy trevor was shuffling his way over to you, yawning and hair sticking in every direction.

the sight made you giggle slightly and you turned your attention back to the coffee, noticing the cup was filled. you put the lid on your cup, just as your boyfriend's arms snake around your waist from behind, pulling you against him tightly and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up baby," you say, genuinely feeling bad, knowing the start of the season is always an adjustment and he needed his rest.

"come back to bed" he mumbles against your skin, his soft breaths and ends of his hair tickling you slightly.

"I can't. I have to go to the gym" you say, ignoring his hmm of protest, trying to grab your cup in front of you but trevor was faster and snatched the cup, holding it above his head before you could take it.

you turn around glancing up at the cup that you couldn't reach and gave your boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Really? You're so immature Trev." you say slightly annoyed and he grins. You are so hot when you are mad.

"Babe, you have the hottest body I've ever seen. You don't need to go to the gym." he says, voice slightly groggy since he hasn't been up that long. He was still holding the cup above his head even though you hadn't made an attempt to grab it.

"It's not about how I look. It's about being active. Sometimes I barely get my 10k steps in a day, not all of us play a sport for a living, remember?" you ask but he's not really paying attention, taking a sip of your coffee and immediately scrunching his nose up. He knows you don't take any sugar, but he still drinks it every time, thinking it's gonna taste differently.

"There's other ways you can be active. So many other ways. Come back to bed and I'll show you." he says putting the cup on the counter, hands falling to your hips and pulling you closer to him.

"You're insufferable." you protest, voice fading a little when he starts laying little kisses on your collarbone.

"Come on. I'll make it worth it. I promise you'll burn more calories with me than you will in the gym and you'll have so much more fun doing it." he whispers, his hands sliding down to grab your ass.

You bite your lip, thinking about it for a second before pulling his head down to meet yours in a kiss. He picks you up as you wrap your legs around his waist, carrying you back to bed. It's not like you weren't active at all, right?

[the-offside-rule]

Pedri Gonzalez (FCBarcelona) - Quiet

Requested: no, but I watched Bridgerton and I fucking love Francesca and John so here you go

Warnings: none

The grand hall buzzed with excitement and chatter as Y/n navigated through the crowd. Working as an assistant at a prestigious company had its perks, but being at this lavish party filled with colleagues and business elites made her feel like a fish out of water. The sparkling lights, the clinking glasses, and the constant murmur of conversations started to weigh on her. Y/n felt eyes following her, admiring her evening gown and confident demeanor, but inside she was anything but confident. Her introverted nature made such social gatherings feel like an ordeal rather than a pleasure. She smiled politely, exchanged pleasantries, and tried her best to fit in, but it was exhausting.

Finally, she decided she needed a break. Slipping out through a side door, she found herself in a quiet garden terrace, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere inside. The cool night air was refreshing, and the view of the Barcelona skyline was breathtaking. Y/n took a deep breath, feeling some of her tension melt away. As she stood there, lost in the beauty of the city lights, she heard footsteps approaching. Turning around, she gave a polite smile, but found herself having to look again as she saw who stood beside her. "Buenas tardes." He said as Y/n looked absolutely dumbfounded. His presence was calm, yet commanding, and she could hardly believe her eyes.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked with a warm smile. "Not at all." She replied, returning his smile, feeling a little more at ease. They stood in companionable silence for a while, simply enjoying the view and the quiet. It was a rare moment of peace in their otherwise hectic lives. Pedri glanced at Y/n, noticing the way the city lights reflected in her eyes, and felt a strange, inexplicable connection.

"You seemed a bit overwhelmed back there." He said gently, breaking the silence. "You noticed?" Pedri chuckled, looking down to the ground. "I think I am the only one who noticed." Y/n breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god. These events aren't really my thing." She admitted. "I prefer the quiet." Pedri nodded along. "I can understand that. Sometimes, I just need a break from all the noise and attention too."

"It must be intense." She said, looking at him. "Always being in the public eye." Pedri shrugged. "It has its moments. But it's worth it when you love what you do. What about you? Do you like your job?" He asked. "I do." She replied. "But it's demanding." Pedri glanced over to her as she leaned on the ledge of the balcony. "Do you come to events like this often?" He asked. "So many. I'm the CEO's assistant." Y/n replied. "You?"

"Not as often as you'd think." Pedri replied. "I try to keep a balance. But when I do, I look for moments like this. It's nice to meet someone who appreciates the quiet." Y/b smiled at his answer. Who new a man with such status could be so similar to her? "It's nice to meet someone who understands."

They continued to chat casually, sharing stories and laughing between themselves. Pedri was charming and easy to talk to, and Y/n found herself relaxing more than she had all evening. "He really did that?" Y/n laughed. "Whag do you expect? That's Gavira for you." Pedri replied. "I-"

"Y/n! Mr Hernandez is looking for you!" Y/n gasped as she stood up promptly, smoothing out her dress with her hands. "I lost track of time. I'll be lucky if I still have a job tomorrow." Y/n mumbled, half joking. She looked up to see Pedri gazing back at her softly. "I guess this is goodbye for now." She said. "I guess so." He replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "It was nice talking to you, Y/n."

"Likewise, Pedri." She said, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat. As she walked back inside, she felt Pedri’s eyes on her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if their paths would cross again. Pedri watched her disappear into the crowd, feeling an unexpected longing. The connection they had felt in those brief moments lingered, leaving him with a sense of anticipation.

[motziedapul]

I had a thought about Wish and why it didn't work that I don't know if others have mentioned.

It was made clear to me after I saw this concept art for Star Boy what this film lacked. It lacked a throughline of DESIRE AND RELATIONSHIPS; not just romantic desire, though the scrapped possibility of "romance" is what made me think about it.

Also, just wanted to say how ironic it is that Star Boy is so reminiscent of Jack Frost from Rise Of The Guardians while Chris Pine, who voiced Jack Frost in ROTG, was the villain (and best part) of this disappointing film.

Despite being ABOUT people's desires and wishes, both Asha and her grandfather's desires are nebulous. "I want to inspire people", "I want more". More what? Inspire them how? Their motivations are pretty unclear, as are their desires. The King even points this out, and he's right to do so.

It wouldn't be so bad for Asha to want her grandfather's wish to be fulfilled if the film could make you feel emotionally invested in him and his motivations. Love for her grandfather and a grave injustice against him and others is a FANTASTIC motivation, which is undermined by the fact that everyone's pretty darn happy in Rosas, and there's no sign to indicate that there's something deeply wrong underneath the surface.

The problem with presenting a society that needs change in a film is that you need to show why it's not working, and yet by all accounts Rosas is a wonderful place to live. SHOW US, DON'T TELL US, WHY THIS IS A GRAVE INJUSTICE. You have to show who's being hurt by showing them being hurt.

It's unfortunate that a movie in the same month dealt with wishes on stars 10000 times better than Wish did, but Puss In Boots The Last Wish did pretty much everything better than Wish did. That being said, they had a blueprint for how to make Wish work, and they didn't even follow it:

Encanto.

I love Encanto. It's not Disney's strongest film, especially plotwise, but what it lacks in plot it makes up for in getting you emotionally invested. The music, the tragedy, the character relationships, they all work. And even Encanto didn't have a romance, but it had suffering, desire, and something was wrong that needed to be fixed, and most importantly, it convinced the audience of that.

In comparison, you have a king taking people's Wishes away because he saw the destructive potential of unfettered desire and greed, all in exchange for peace and happiness - and yet we do not see people suffering from this decision. We see Asha get angry about it before we ever see why she should be angry.

People have already mentioned that Wish lacks camp, so I'm not gonna go into that, but it lacks camp and any Disney animated film that lacks camp is one not worth watching.

In terms of relationships, the only one in the film that has any sort of chemistry or emotional complexity is that of Asha and Magnifico. They literally sing a love song to each other in the movie, which baffles me because it gives you the idea of a budding romance/non romantic but loving relationship between the protagonist and antagonist of this film, only to be followed by a heartwrenching betrayal that justifies Magnifico's descent into darkness. And that would have been a fantastic story (after removing the weird age gap, obviously, though Disney's no stranger to that).

There is no other relationship in Asha's life that seems to mean anything to her, not even her relationship with her grandfather, because the only interactions we see her have with him before deciding what's best for him is 1 single scene where she actively avoids spending time with him and her mother to sneak off.

In Coco, we understand how important Hector as a great grandfather is, because of this scene.

In Encanto, we immediately see how and why Mirabelle loves her family and is proud of them, and yet also how she suffers from their exclusion and isolation of her.

The character who is *described* as caring for others but never shown caring for anybody only ever has a moment with the villainous king, who himself only ever has chemistry with her and his wife.

What's infuriating is that there's a deleted scene that, if combined with another scene showing Asha's childhood and why her grandfather means so much to her, would've made her motivation clear.

There's a deleted scene where her grandfather sings a beautiful song, and her and her mother sit there in emotional silence.

Would've been nice to have it in the film.

The most interesting character in the film is King Magnifico, which is why they had to scrape all the nuance out of him in the second act. Asha is described as selfless but is deeply selfish and self-centred. Her desires are nebulous. Her motivations aren't convincing. The character they try to sell you is one we never see.

A romance may not have been entirely necessary, but Asha having a real relationship and therefore emotional stakes with someone absolutely would have. It would have clarified and justified her desires, her motivations.

What a waste.

-

P.S. The Animation in Wish is gorgeous, lively, and well-done, but the rendering, lighting and watercolour effects were badly executed. Please make the proper distinction - the characters move beautifully.

P.P.S. Yeah the music's bad. Say what you want about Lin Manuel Miranda but he's at least talented enough and Broadway enough to know how music can synergize with story and character. None of my criticisms about him as a person extends to his musical ability - Moana is my favourite movie, and he did a fantastic job there and on Encanto.

Apologies for the long post, but after seeing so many rants about this film I realized there's still something to touch upon that people haven't fully addressed.

[magicxc]

Frenemies

Pairings: Survey Corps - people they cannot STAND

Word Count: 1076

Warnings: none

A/N: Idk man I love a good tussle jskksks. Like give me two characters who absolutely hate each other! And with AOT I really don't have to look too far, yay. This is basically canon but it's funny to think about so here it is as well. 

Eren  - Jean, Weak People

I think the Jean one gets over exaggerated a little, and for good reason too, cause the girlies be EATING with those tropes. But at the end of the day they have a mutual understanding and are cordial at best. They're mostly cool because they share mutual friends and spaces but it’s no longer beef per se. 

Hear me out, I don't think anyone wiping out 80% of humanity is willing to kick it with people who aint about it. Mans need someone who’s willing to stand on business behind him. Even throughout the show he’s always admitted to not liking people who’s willing to live like “livestock.” So this is not to be confused with physically weak people by the way but psychologically weak people. Essentially Eren has beef if you’re willing to take it lying down. 

Levi - Zeke

Listennnn I LIVE for their fight scenes okay lmao. Like it's almost always on sight for them and their lil jabs at one another? It’s chucklessss for me omg. Lets be clear, their beef is absolutely warranted. It can be safely argued that Levi doesnt really care for most people but Zeke?? Oh baby its all smoke for him. 

Erwin - The Government 

I swear if it wasn't for the literal fate of humanity and his brewing theory Erwin would've just said fuck it cause baybeeee, they wanted that man GONE. They've tried to get him fired, pointed guns in his face, and built a whole ass guillotine to unalive him; in front of the entire town mind you. Maybe that was the custom back then I don't know. I don’t remember Erwin outright saying that he doesn't fuck with the government but fuck it, I’ll say it for him. Cause I'll stand ten toes down behind this one here. 

Connie - Ymir

I promise you I let out a nasty ole chuckle at the thought cause he don't even dislike her fr fr. I think it's a situation similar to Eren and Jean's in the sense that their friends and environment often see them in the same places. Because if we’re being real, not only do they have little in common but they just don't really vibe like that. I think they could've been a little more cordial but Ymir be on her own timing and it's usually at the expense of the squad. Like when she made fun of Connie for suspecting his mother was a titan or when she kidnapped Historia like 3 times and put them all in danger. And I can't even be mad at Connie for being the voice of reason cause him calling her ugly was simply the truth. I, too, reared back when I first saw Ymir's titan form. 

Jean - Eren, Reiner, Annie, Bertholt

The whole Eren thing is basically squashed but it’s worth noting that if he were to see him in public, he’d walk the other way. 

I lowkey had to dig deep for this one cause I genuinely forgot. But even though they’re all kumbaya now, those three bitches literally watched his homie get half his face chewed off by a titan. Jean is absolutely pouring one out for Marco every birthday by the way, but yeahh it’s still fuck them. Like if they were playing uno stacked, he’d save all his draw 4’s and make them draw 16. 

Onyankopon - Yelena

I'm not too sure that Ony dislikes anyone honestly. But I'm going with Yelena here mostly because she’s the reason he found himself in his current predicament. On what was supposed to be a solid plan in motion to save his people quickly turned into Ony modernizing a primitive people, helping build their resources from scratch, having people question his race (and I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar it was mfs that got ignorant), seeming untrustworthy among his peers, almost getting killed, fighting in a war he had nothing to do with, and probably losing his entire family in the rumble. Now, one or two of those things were inevitable, but if you were to view things from Ony’s POV everything went to shit over a bitch with a fatal attraction to a man with daddy issues. 

Reiner - Himself

Lmaooo I LOVE a good Reiner drag. And while this started out as a joke, I'm deadass now. This man stays talking about wanting to end it all but never follows through, smh. With lots of therapy and support, I genuinely think that Reiner would be on the road to recovery and a healthy lifestyle; but there’ll always be that lingering thought on if he’s worth it or not

Honorable mention: Ymir. But solely because she would get in the way of his fantasy life with Historia. 

Armin - Floch? 

This munchkin is damn near Tanjiro levels of sweet cause omg who does he even hate??? He is always looking for the good in people and I'm about to dislocate my shoulder reaching this hard BUT, hear me out - It’s Floch even if he doesn’t outright say it. The same Floch who damaged the flying boat and almost ruined their mission before it even started? The same Floch who fucked it up so bad that Hange had to sacrifice herself which resulted in Armin taking on an even bigger responsibility? The same Floch who got in a lil too close with his bestie Eren? Close enough to be trusted with his future plans? The same Floch who when he lay on that ground bleeding Armin was nowhere in sight? Even at the port where they attacked the Yeagerists and Armin got shot in the face, he pleaded with his old comrades to stand down but Floch is beneath that level of reasoning huh? Whether Armin despises Floch or not it's safe to say if Floch were getting jumped, Armin would definitely sneak in a kick before helping. 

Floch - Erwin

This is literally one of those cases where its like I disagree but I understand lol. That man legit made them do a suicide charge and yeah he lead the charge blah blah blah but I could never be that brave. And so that resentment is understandable but in all fairness it shaped Flochs character for the better to be honest; cause that whole pwussy boi arc was annoying. 

Also adding the main cast of the Scouts lmao. They thwarted his plans and he spent his DYING breath standing on business. Gotta respect it.

Tags - @eveningatthemoviesnetwork

[lexamiele]

A Little Secret

Rightmost image from Elizabeth on Pinterest here, other two are mine

Part 2 of I Think It's Time to Switch Roles - Tom Riddle x Reader

Requested by: @lackingstateofmind @annaisanarchyofficial @justarandomcanadiantransdude

Word count: approx. 8.5k

Summary: You're done with Mattheo's reckless behavior. So is his brother, Tom. Where will your newfound connection take you?

Warnings/be aware: Tom Riddle III/Tom and Mattheo are the sons of Voldemort, ooc!Tom Riddle, mentions of cheating (not Tom), implied that the reader is a Hufflepuff, one major (1 week) time skip, use of Y/N, playboy!Mattheo, it's long

A/N: Part 2 of I Think It’s Time to Switch Roles is finally finished! Thank you all for being patient while I rewrote this like five times and also took finals. If you haven’t read I Think It’s Time to Switch roles, I would recommend reading that first here. For all of my Mattheo lovers I promise I will write something that's nicer to bby Matty soon, in the meantime I hope you enjoy!

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            “I think I like your brother better.”

            You were trying to wind up Mattheo and it worked, his eyes flashing in anger as he looked at you in disbelief.

            “So that’s what this is about?” he demanded. “You’re just looking for a reason to go running off with – “

            “No, Mattheo,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you tried to prevent the confrontation from devolving into him whining over your and Tom’s plan. “I’m looking for someone who’s mature and reliable and honest, and you just are not those things!” A month’s worth of frustration that had gone unreleased spilled out of you. “You did a great job of keeping me holding on for a while, but it’s over. I don’t believe you anymore.” He scoffed.

            “Fine,” he spat. “Go mess around with whoever you want, see if I care.” Your mouth dropped open at his utter lack of self-awareness as he turned on his heel and stepped away.

            “How in Salazar’s name is this about me?” you shouted at his retreating back, throwing your hands up in anger. “You’re the one who couldn’t keep your hands off someone else!” He ignored you, striding away with Blaise and Theo as you simmered with rage.

            “He will come around eventually.”

            You turned in the direction that the deep voice had just emanated from and saw Tom watching you, an even expression on his face. You knew there was no way he could’ve heard what you’d said to egg on Mattheo – it had been too quiet – but your stomach still dropped slightly at the reminder of his presence.

            “I don’t really care if he comes around or not,” you admitted, your voice catching in your throat slightly. You weren’t going to waste your time trying to change someone who refused to do so of his own accord. “I still care about him, but I don’t trust him anymore. And without that, there’s no point.” You let out a heavy breath. “Thanks for trying. I’ll see you around, yeah?” He didn’t react, leaving you to turn around and walk away.

            “Y/N?”

            You spun back around at the sound of his voice behind you. “Yes?”

            “You are much more than he deserves.” His eyes were narrowed, and if you didn’t know better you would’ve thought that he looked slightly sad. You blinked in surprise.

            “I…thank you.” He nodded once in response, watching as you walked away. You didn’t know what to make of it.

            You spent the next week drowning out the noise in your head with schoolwork, remaining resolutely holed up in your common room as you worked to avoid running into Tom, Mattheo, Lisa, or anyone else who might be out and about in the castle. The strategy proved oddly effective, and you had several remarkably productive workdays, finishing all of your assignments for the next several weeks. Once you ran out of essays to write, you moved to studying for NEWTs. You were in the process of marching through your Defense textbook and creating review notes when your studying was interrupted.

            “Earth to Y/N!” Something cushy and dense smacked you in the back of the head, causing you to make an errant marking on the parchment in front of you with your quill. You frowned and turned around, seeing that the object that had hit you was a throw pillow and the launcher of said pillow was your best friend, Hannah Abbot. Pressing your lips together, you tried to avoid snapping.

            “What, Han?” you sighed. “I’m a little busy.” She raised her eyebrows.

            “You’ve been busy for every moment of the past week,” she responded. “How many essays can you possibly have left to write?” You glanced at the floor.

            “None,” you admitted reluctantly. “I’ve been studying for NEWTs.”

            “Right.” She stood up and strode towards you, flipping the textbook in front of you shut and yanking the quill out of your hand.

            “Hey!”

            “You’re coming with me,” she declared, grabbing your wrist and pulling you in the direction of the staircases that led to the dormitories.

            “But I was working!”

            “Please, you were avoiding.” She shot you a skeptical glance as she walked. “You have to talk about Mattheo sometime, Y/N! It’s been a week and you haven’t even mentioned him.”

            “I will!” you protested. “Once I finish studying for NEWTs.” Hannah laughed incredulously.

            “Okay, so once you finish the Sisyphean task that we’re supposed to complete over the next two years, then you’ll talk about it?” You grimaced. “I’m your best friend!” she continued, pausing in front of you and looking you in the eye. “Please talk to me?”

            You sighed, feeling slightly guilty for isolating yourself so much during the past week. “You’re right,” you admitted. “I’ve just felt so…not myself over the past few days. Doing schoolwork is the only thing that makes me feel normal.” Hannah shook her head.

            “You’re going through a breakup, Y/N,” she replied, opening the doors of your dormitory. “And don’t give me that ‘we were never officially dating’ nonsense, he was important to you. It’s not going to feel normal. You have to work through all of those feelings to move on.” You stepped forward and plopped down on your bed. She joined you, kicking off her shoes swiftly and sitting cross-legged with her back against the footboard.

            “I know, there’s just a lot going on,” you explained, closing your bedcurtains and casting a quick Silencing Charm around the bed so that no one else could listen in. Her eyes widened.

            “Well there must be, if the Silencing Charm is coming out,” she remarked with surprise. “What’s up?”

            You told her about the events of the previous weekend – how you’d run into Tom in the library, your plan to teach Mattheo a lesson, and how he’d apologized to you but turned back into his old self the moment you’d questioned his willingness to change.

            “It’s over for good,” you said to Hannah. “I thought that maybe if the plan worked and he apologized, I would take him back. But there was just…something about the things he was saying, I didn’t believe him.”

            “And it seems like you were right,” she affirmed. “I mean if he switched from begging for your forgiveness to insulting you that quickly…” You nodded, feeling yourself tearing up at the memory.

            “It seemed so unlike him,” you said sadly as Hannah wrapped a comforting arm around you. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was exactly like him. He was so sweet to me when things were good, when I was new and shiny and interesting, but the moment that someone he liked better came along – poof. I didn’t matter anymore.”

            “Ugh, he’s such a loser,” she said sourly. Out of all your friends, she’d been the most skeptical of Mattheo’s initial advances. “You’re an amazing partner, Y/N. The way he acts says everything about his worth, not about yours.”

            “I know,” you agreed hesitantly. “I should’ve never gone out with him in the first place. He wasn’t even close to what I was looking for. He was just new, and exciting, and…I don’t know.”

            “People make mistakes,” she stated gently, rubbing your back with her palm. “He was a smooth talker and a nice guy in his better moments, I can understand what you saw in him. But you deserve to set higher standards for yourself! When you get back out there, whenever that is, you’re going to stick to your guns and find someone who’s everything that you want.” You pressed your lips together, hesitating for a moment.

            “I think I might have?” Your voice squeaked slightly and your best friend’s eyes widened with excitement.

            “Really?” she exclaimed, scooting forward on the bed. “Who?” You sighed.

            “Okay, it’s so bad,” you prefaced, leaning your head back.

            “No, sweetie, I thought we were done with the bad boys!”

            “It’s not that,” you clarified, covering your face with your hands for a moment. “It’s just…I don’t know, I’d never actually go for it. It was just sort of a whim that I got.”

            “Okay,” Hannah responded, looking intrigued.

            “It’s just that, well, when Tom and I ran into each other and came up with this whole plan…we ended up spending a lot of time together, and at some point I sort of realized that, well, he’s got everything I’m looking for.” You winced slightly as her mouth fell open.

            “No way,” she remarked, laughing eagerly. “Mattheo’s brother?”

            “Am I a horrible person?” Hannah shot you a skeptical look.

            “No, no,” she dismissed. “Under other circumstances…maybe it wouldn’t be a great look. But he cheated! You owe him nothing.”

            “Are you sure?” She laughed.

            “Yes, I’m sure! Honestly, I think everyone who’s ever been played by Mattheo Riddle would respect you more for it.” She paused for a moment, grinning. “What’s Tom like, by the way? He seems so scary.” You thought for a moment.

            “I was always a little intimidated by him,” you agreed. “He was always pretty stoic and difficult to read when Mattheo and I were together, but once we found some common ground, it was like – I don’t know. We just clicked so well, in a weird way. He’s so clever and mature…and responsible! He has his life so together! I think he has a planner and everything. And he’s such a gentleman, he was so respectful the whole time. Not to mention he’s gorgeous.” Hannah grinned.

            “You’re not wrong there,” she said. “I reckon he’d pull more than any of those other Slytherins if he’d just stop walking around looking like he’s about to Avada someone constantly.” You giggled.

            “I just have no idea how he feels about me,” you sighed. “Whatever. I probably just need to take a break from boys anyway.”

            “Don’t we all,” Hannah joked. “By the way, Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw in Quidditch tomorrow. Want to come with me?” She watched you hopefully.

            “Hannah Abbot,” you gasped playfully, your mouth gaping in teasing surprise. “Are you asking me to rejoin society with you?” She burst into laughter. “I would be honored.”

            The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game was spectacularly exciting, with Ron Weasley making a remarkable thirty-six saves as Keeper and Cho Chang just barely beating out Harry Potter in a race to the Snitch to prevent a runaway Gryffindor victory.

            “Now if Hufflepuff beats Gryffindor next week, we’ll be in first place in the standings for the Quidditch Cup!” Hannah exclaimed to you eagerly as the two of you walked back to the castle. “We’ll be in great position for the House Cup as well, we’ve been earning loads of House Points lately. Slytherin was just ahead of us, and they lost a ton of points last week.”

            “Oh yeah, wasn’t that a party that got busted or something?” you asked, vaguely remembering overhearing a conversation about the incident during Herbology several days previously.

            “The fifth-year boys got caught with a stash of Firewhiskey that would be better suited to the Three Broomsticks than a Hogwarts dormitory,” Hannah clarified with a laugh.

            “I’m surprised it wasn’t the sixth years,” you remarked, shaking your head. “I’ve seen Zabini’s stash, that guy could open up his own pub and have stock to spare.”

            “Oh, Zabini,” she sighed, shaking her head and giggling slightly in spite of herself. “The last time I went to a Slytherin party, he was so drunk he called me ‘Susan’ the entire night and then spilled wine down the front of my dress.”

            “He’s lucky you’re so good at Cleaning Charms.”

            “He’s lucky I’m not better at the Bat-Bogey Hex,” she retorted playfully. You fell into a comfortable silence as you entered the castle, winding through the entrance hall, up the stairs, and past the library. “Shoot.” She frowned as she looked at the library doors. “I need to go find a book to finish that essay for McGonagall, I completely forgot to do that yesterday.”

            “Oh, did you want to go now?” You paused in your tracks. “I can come with you.” Hannah shook her head.

            “It’s from the Restricted Section, I haven’t got the permission note with me,” she explained, running a hand through her hair. “Ugh, I’m going to have to go get it from the common room and come all the way back. I’ve got so much work left to do on that essay, I’m going to be up all night.”

            “Isn’t that the one that’s due tomorrow?” She nodded despairingly. You felt a sudden surge of relief that you’d finished your assignments so early. “What’re you writing it about? I finished mine on Tuesday and I didn’t need to get anything from the Restricted Section.”

            “I chose the unregistered animagi and illegal animal transformations prompt, I definitely need to go to the Restricted Section,” she sighed, her forehead crinkling with stress. “And it’s going to take forever to find too, the Transfiguration shelves are terribly organized…I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish it. I can’t believe I put it off for this long.”

            “Hey, it’s okay,” you interjected, placing a gentle hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Are there parts of the essay you can do without that book?” She nodded. “Okay, perfect. I’ve already finished that essay, I’ll go find the book for you and then help you with yours.”

            “Really? Oh, you’re the best,” she remarked, beaming.

            “It’s nothing,” you dismissed with a grin. “We’re gonna get this done, okay?”

            “Okay,” she declared. “Right, we’ve got this.”

            Hannah revised her essay outline while the two of you ate dinner in the Great Hall. You were enjoying the food and the company until shrill giggles reached your ears from across the room. Glancing toward the source of the noise, you saw that it was none other than Lisa Turpin, fussing and laughing loudly as she sat on Mattheo’s lap. His hands were all over her, and before you could avert your eyes, they started snogging aggressively.

            “Oh, ew,” you groaned, your nose wrinkling in disgust as you looked back towards Hannah, who was across from you at the table.

            “What?” She glanced up at your objection. You nodded towards the Slytherin table and she turned around, her expression soon mirroring yours. “Nasty,” she remarked, shaking her head as she turned back to her parchment. “There are literally professors here! That’s disgusting. Acquire a sense of shame, please.”

            “It’s so good to not be with someone who has no concept of boundaries,” you declared, flipping your hair. To your surprise, you really meant it. You didn’t feel the expected twinge of sadness when you saw Mattheo and Lisa together – just secondhand embarrassment.

            “Cheers to that,” Hannah added, lifting her glass of pumpkin juice. You clinked yours against it, taking a sip of the sweet drink.

            After dinner, you headed back to the Hufflepuff common room with Hannah, where she passed the permission note to access the Restricted Section on to you.

            “No one should check too closely – Madame Pince is off duty after 8. But just in case,” she added, lifting her wand to the parchment and murmuring an incantation under her breath. When she handed it to you, you saw that it now said your name on it instead of hers. “Thank you so much, you’re the best.”

            “Of course! No worries at all,” you assured her. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

            The library was quiet when you entered – most people must’ve gone back to their common rooms after dinner. Feeling slightly nervous even though you had a note, you walked through the stacks until you found the discreet Restricted Section. Carefully, you entered, the parchment from Hannah providing reassurance in your hand as you inspected the shelves. The only sound around you was the click of your shoes on the floor and an inexplicable hum emanating from one of the tomes sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts section. After a few moments of searching, you found the shelves containing the Transfiguration texts.

            “Animal transformations…animals, animals, animals,” you murmured to yourself, skimming the spines of each book on the shelves. You shifted from crouching to kneeling to standing on your tiptoes, searching the texts, but you couldn’t seem to spot the book listed on the note. Grimacing, you wondered if this was going to be more difficult than you’d imagined.

            Your resolve still strong, you crossed the aisle and began inspecting another set of shelves full of Transfiguration texts. Though you found scrolls, aging encyclopedias, instructions for transforming human skulls into all sorts of objects, and one collection of volumes that were suspiciously cold to the touch and looked as though their bindings were on the verge of crumbling, you couldn’t seem to locate to book in question. In the silence, you began to lose track of yourself as you explored.

            “Sneaking about, are we?”

            Nearly jumping out of your skin as a deep voice broke your focus, you whipped around to see none other than Tom Riddle standing behind you.

            “Merlin!” you exclaimed, breathing hard as you put a hand to your heart. “You scared me.” He stepped forward, and a tingle ran down your spine at his close proximity.

            “What are you looking for?” he asked in a low voice. Your mind went blank as you found yourself captive in his intense stare, and you scrambled for a few seconds until you recalled the note in your hand.

            “Um, this,” you finally replied, swallowing thickly as you handed him the parchment. His eyes scanned the writing for a bit before he placed the note back in your hand. He turned around, striding towards the end of the bookcase you’d been exploring. With ease, he withdrew a text from the shelf and placed it in your hands. Your breath caught in your throat as your fingers came to rest on top of his, and you felt your spine press against the shelves behind you as you stepped back.

            “Spiritae Bestiae, that’s a fascinating text.” He met your gaze with interest. “Of course, I’m sure Madame Pince would prefer if Abbot retrieved her own selections from the Restricted Section.” You felt your cheeks flush as you wondered how on Earth he’d known.

            “She’s worried about getting the essay done by the due date, I offered to get the book for her to save her some time,” you explained softly. His eyes softened almost imperceptibly, the harsh expression on his face fading into something more neutral.

            “I suppose this can be our little secret,” he replied, releasing his hold on the volume. For a moment, he stood before you, stealing the breath from your lungs with his emerald gaze as he watched you. Then, slowly, he stepped away and you came to your senses, moving back into the aisle as he pulled a book that had been on the shelf behind him away from its place.

            “What’s that for?” You were scarcely able to hear your voice over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears.

            “Nosy, nosy,” he murmured, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a little smirk. Your face grew warm again. “Professor Slughorn asked me to obtain it. I’ll be providing him with some after-hours assistance brewing potions next week.” He began to thumb through the pages and you stepped forward, standing on your toes to look over his shoulder. The pictures that adorned some of the pages looked rather gruesome, with one unfortunately afflicted individual grasping at his back while a pair of bat wings burst forth from his shoulder blades, and another grimacing as a tongue like a snake’s emerged from his mouth.

            “Yikes,” you remarked to yourself. Tom glanced over his shoulder, suddenly made aware of your presence, and decisively pushed you a few steps back with his forearm.

            “That’s not for your eyes, darling,” he stated, closing the book harshly and causing it to emit a small puff of dust.

            “I’m not a child, Tom.” You crossed your arms playfully, his serious gaze clashing with your grin.

            “This author has a deep fascination with magic of the most twisted nature,” he said, frowning. “You’re too sweet to be worrying yourself with such things.”

            Your heart fluttered at his words, but you couldn’t help indulging your twinge of curiosity. “What does Professor Slughorn want with it then?” Tom began to walk toward the exit of the Restricted Section and you fell into step next to him.

            “Unfortunately, the author of this book, for all of his morbid fascinations, was also a gifted Potions master,” he explained. “One of his great inventions was a powerful potion for dreamless sleep, the original recipe for which resides here.” He held up the dusty text in his hand. “It’s been revised endless times by other scholars hoping to improve it, but Professor Slughorn suspects that the original formula is actually superior. He hopes to test that theory.”

            “That’s…really groundbreaking work,” you remarked, raising your eyebrows. “Healers use dreamless sleep potions all the time. If you rediscovered a formula that was more effective than the existing ones, that would be incredible.” You’d always known that Tom was the most promising student in his year, but this was on a different level entirely.

            “We hope so.” There was a moment of silence as the two of you left the Restricted Section and began to walk through the standard library stacks. “Are you…alright?”

            The words sounded foreign in his mouth, and you nearly asked what on Earth he was talking about until you remembered how distressed you’d been about Mattheo the last time the two of you had talked. Oddly, it felt like a lifetime ago.

            “Oh, I’m okay,” you replied quickly. “Honestly, it doesn’t even really bother me anymore. Seeing him sucking face with Turpin in the middle of the Great Hall made me lose any respect I had left for him.”

            “Indeed.” You glanced over at him and saw his eyes flicker slightly. In a second it was gone, and he scoffed. “They were getting far too intimate in the Slytherin common room when I left. Between ordering them to get off each other every five minutes and listening to Malfoy’s constant yammering, it’s been impossible to concentrate lately.” The two of you came to a long table sitting amongst the bookshelves and he placed the book in his hand down, then set his school bag next to it. He removed a number of other books from it, including an old Ancient Runes dictionary and the narrow black one that you recognized as his notebook, along with a quill and ink pot. Hesitantly, you sat down next to him. You supposed that spending five more minutes with Tom wouldn’t delay your delivery of Hannah’s book too significantly.

            “Is that why you came to the library?”

            “Yes.” You opened the book you’d just obtained, your eyes skimming the pages as he wrote hastily on the parchment in front of him. His handwriting was sharp and neat, the letters tightly clustered together. As he wrote, the silver rings on his fingers flashed in the dim light. “NEWTs aren’t far away, I need some quiet.”

            “Well, I suppose I ought to stop distracting you then.” You laughed, feeling slightly awkward.

            “That isn’t what I meant.” His statement was abrupt and you blinked in surprise.

            “Then…I’ll stay.”

            “Please.”

            You found a strange peace sitting there next to him, reading the book in your arms as he took notes. Acutely aware of his close proximity, your mind wandered from the words before you.

            “Have you ever considered becoming an Animagus?” you asked suddenly. If there was any Hogwarts student with the talent to do so, it was him. He raised his eyebrows, not looking up from his notes.

            “I have other things to worry about at the present moment, unfortunately.” He let out a heavy breath.

            “Like your experiments with Slughorn?”

            “Yes, and Head Boy matters,” he said, finally looking up. “And finding suitable employment as graduation approaches, and other things. But I am certain it would be a worthy goal in the future.”

            “What form do you think you would take?” Your eyes sparkled with intrigue.

            “I – “

            “Tom!”

You both started and whipped your heads around at the sudden noise, looking for the source. It appeared to be a girl who was rapidly approaching, ignoring the stares she was receiving for making such a loud noise in the library. As she drew closer, you recognized her as a fifth-year and a Prefect. The girl’s face was glistening with sweat and more of her hair seemed to be escaping from her ponytail than actually captured in it.

            “What is it, Nancy?” Tom asked curtly.

            “There’s a rogue Fanged Frisbee hurtling around the Owlery,” she wailed. “No one can seem to capture it, it’s already bitten a few people, the owls are losing their minds –”

            “Oh, for Salazar’s sake,” he snapped to himself as he stood, quickly tossing his books, quill, and inkwell back into his bag. “Please tell them I’ll be right there.” The girl rushed off and Tom glanced back at you. He watched you with an indiscernible expression as you gave him a soft smile. For a second, he paused as though contemplating something, then he gave you a polite nod and turned his back to you, following the Prefect with quick, authoritative steps. After he left, you turned back to the table to grab Hannah’s book and leave yourself. As you did so, your eyes caught sight of the little black book that Tom always kept with him.

            “Shoot,” you sighed, realizing that he must have left it behind in his haste to sort out the Owlery situation. “Tom?” you called, hurrying towards the front of the library, but he was long gone. Shrugging your shoulders, you set the book on top of your own and scooped them both up in your arms, resolving to return his later.

            With your help, Hannah did manage to finish her essay by the next morning, though neither of you got very much sleep as a result. The next morning, the two of you made the exhausted trek to the Great Hall for breakfast, yawning copiously all the while.

            “Ugh, what I wouldn’t do for a double dose of Pepperup Potion right now,” Hannah complained, holding her head in one hand and a glass of pumpkin juice in the other. She looked as though she were about to fall into her plate of eggs and toast.

            “Uh, Han?” You glanced up to see Ernie MacMillan glancing over at the two of you hesitantly from the other side of the table.

            “What, Ernie?” she snapped in a tone that could curdle milk.

            “That’s my pumpkin juice,” he squeaked, wincing as he nodded at the glass she was holding.

            “Oh, Helga’s – sorry,” she groaned squinting at the glass in her hand and then sliding it back over to the other side of the table.

            “Did I miss a party or something last night?” Ernie asked. “Are you hung over?” You shook your head.

            “I was working on McGonagall’s essay,” Hannah explained.

            “I helped,” you chimed in.

            “You’ve got to stop putting things off until the last minute.” Hannah rolled her eyes. As your friends began to bicker, their voices faded from your attention as you glanced around the Great Hall. You saw several fellow sixth-years frantically trying to finish up their Transfiguration essays as others chatted eagerly around them. For a moment, your eyes paused on Tom, who was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, reading as usual. On closer inspection, you saw that he was paging through the book he’d gotten from the Restricted Section the previous night. You smiled to yourself, remembering the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch as he’d handed your elusive book to you.

            “Uh, Y/N? Earth to Y/N.” Hannah’s voice suddenly cut through your thoughts and you snapped back to reality as you quickly turned towards her. She was watching you with an expression of concern. “Heads up,” she added, pointing behind you. You spun around, confused. As you took in the situation, your heart dropped. Mattheo Riddle was approaching the Hufflepuff table, his eyes dead set on you.

            “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” You dared to hope for a second that you were mistaken and he was actually headed towards the Gryffindor table behind you, but sure enough, he was soon standing before you, that annoying little smirk that he usually wore on his face.

            “Get out of here, Riddle,” Ernie snarled. You had to hand it to him, he made a great effort to intimidate the Slytherin who was easily half again his size. Unfortunately, Mattheo just chuckled, raising an incredulous eyebrow in the other boy’s direction.

            “Good to see you too, MacMillan,” he drawled before turning his attention back to you. “Alright, Y/N?”

            “Perfectly fine, Riddle,” you said curtly. “Good of you to stop by.” You turned back to your food, hoping that he would take the hint to leave, but he seemed to deliberately ignore it.

            “Can’t we talk?”

            Your face contorted in bewilderment as you turned back towards him. “No?”

            “Look, baby.” Your eyes widened, shocked to hear the nickname that he’d called you when the two of you had been seeing each other. “We had a fight, we both said things we regret, it happens. But…I miss talking to you, alright?” Your brows furrowed in shock and anger, and you stood almost involuntarily.

“We didn’t have a fight,” you snapped. You crossed your arms in front of you. “You decided that you were seeing someone else. Why don’t you go bother her instead?” He tensed.

“Baby, she can’t compare to you.” His voice was oddly gentle, and it made you want to recoil. “I made an impulsive decision, but you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

You blinked in disbelief. This had to be some sort of sick joke, right? There was no way Mattheo was actually this stupid, arrogant, oblivious…

“Are you daft?” The words escaped your mouth before you could stop them, and you stared at him with wide eyes. “Genuinely, what is it like inside your head? You were snogging Turpin in the middle of the Great Hall yesterday.”

“I was trying to block out the pain of losing you!”

“Which was, for the record, entirely self-inflicted.”

“Please.” His eyes were wide, and it alarmed you how good he was at imitating sincerity. “If you want me to beg, I’ll beg. Please give me another chance.”

“You are with someone else.”

“Turpin knows it’s over,” he replied hastily. “I called it off last night.”

As his words sank in, you recalled what Tom had told you the previous night – they were getting far too intimate in the Slytherin common room when I left. Your blood boiled.

“You’re lying, Mattheo,” you snapped, your voice shaking in anger. “You’re lying to me! Again! I know exactly what you and Turpin were doing last night, and it wasn’t breaking up.” His eyes widened.

“Who – How…”

“Your brother,” you finished, crossing your arms as you smirked at him. “Who is sick and tired of hearing your PDA in the Slytherin common room while he’s trying to study, by the way.” Mattheo’s eyes darkened, glaring into yours.

“Why were you talking to – “

“Oh, get a grip.” Your lip curled in distaste. “Go pick someone else to bother, Riddle. I’m not in the mood.” He looked for a moment like he might say something, but then turned around and strode away. You sat back down at the table as Ernie and Hannah stared at you, eyes wide.

            “Nice work,” Ernie finally said, blinking in surprise.

            “Thank you!” you replied with a little shrug. “I thought so.”

            You finished your food quickly, eager to get to History of Magic so that you could think about anything except how annoyed you were at Mattheo. Finally, you, Hannah, and Ernie were able to pack your things and leave the Great Hall. You were nagged by the slight feeling that you were forgetting something, but you were anxious enough to leave that you pushed it out of your mind.

            “That was bizarre,” Hannah remarked, shaking her head as the three of you walked down the corridor. “I mean, if I was daft enough to lose you I’d beg for you to take me back too, but while he’s still snogging someone else? What exactly did he think was going to happen?”

            “I’ve no idea,” you replied with a shrug. “I can’t believe I had to hear that with my own two ears. I’m half inclined to tell Turpin about the whole thing.”

            “I feel like she ought to know,” Hannah agreed. “I’ll talk to her after Muggle Studies.”

            As you walked, you stuck a hand in your bag to make sure you had all of your textbooks for the day. History of Magic, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures… suddenly, your fingers touched an unfamiliar spine. Glancing down, you remembered the small black notebook that was tucked in between your supplies. “Shoot, I knew there was something I was forgetting.” You turned to Hannah, pulling the book out of your bag. “I forgot to give Tom back his planner, or whatever this thing is.”

            “How’d you end up with Tom Riddle’s notebook?” Ernie asked, frowning. “He’s always writing in that thing when he leads Prefect meetings, I didn’t think he’d let it out of his sight.”

            “I dunno, we ran into each other in the library. He left it on the table when he had to run off and deal with some Fanged Frisbee situation.”

            “I heard about that!” he exclaimed. “I was out on patrols on the other side of the castle, but Goldstein was there, and he said it was madness until Riddle showed up. Apparently he got rid of the thing in under two minutes!”

            “Really?” You raised your eyebrows. “That’s impressive.” Hannah shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks turn pink.

            “What a pair of brothers, huh?” Ernie chuckled to himself. “They’ve both got to have some sort of complex.”

            You laughed. “Mattheo, I’ll agree with. Tom’s not so bad.”

            “Did you see him during breakfast?”  You shook your head and Ernie shuddered. “Dunno how you didn’t notice, he kept looking over at our table. He looked like he was ready to kill.”

            Tom wasn’t at lunch or dinner. Ernie informed you that he’d seen him in the hall having some hushed conversation with Slughorn, and you wondered if their experiment had panned out. By evening, though, you were getting anxious to return the thing – you figured that if he kept it with him everywhere he went, he probably needed it. And as much as you were embarrassed to admit it to yourself, you liked the idea of having a reason to go see him. So as night fell, you ventured through the corridors and to the Slytherin common room, hoping that no one had changed the password since Mattheo had given it to you when the two of you were together.

            “Vici,” you declared when you reached the hidden entrance, and to your relief, the door opened. Stepping through the wall, you glanced around the large, dimly-lit room, feeling quite out of your element indeed. The eerie green light of the Black Lake shone off the faces of those sitting in the common room, some of them turning around to glance at you in confusion as you strode past, your steps echoing off the stone floor. As you looked back at them, you felt suddenly self-conscious – you hadn’t stopped to think about just how strange it would seem for you to be here after your very public falling-out with one of the school’s most infamous Slytherins.

            Tom was nowhere to be seen, and neither, thankfully, was Mattheo. However, you did spot a few of the sixth-year Slytherins that they typically hung around sitting in the corner by a large statue – Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theo Nott, and Enzo Berkshire. As they turned to look at you, part of you wanted to run and hide, but you steeled yourself with a deep breath. You’re just returning a lost object to a friend, it’s no big deal, you reminded yourself as you approached.

            “Um, hey guys,” you said, putting on what you hoped was a friendly smile. You directed your words mostly at Enzo – you’d always found him to be the least intimidating. “Does anyone know where Tom is? He left his little black notebook that he’s always carrying in the library last night and I know he must be anxious to get it back.” Pansy and Draco glanced at each other, her shooting him a look that you couldn’t decipher as Enzo grinned at you reassuringly.

            “Yeah, sure thing,” he replied lightly. “He’s probably up in his dormitory. Do you know where the Head’s dormitory is in here?” You shook your head.

            “Sorry.”

            “No worries, you’re going to want to go two flights of stairs up from the sixth-year boys’ dormitory and it’s right there. It’s the only room on the level, you can’t miss it.”

            “Amazing, thank you so much.” You waved politely at the group. “Good to see you all!” Enzo waved back, while the others acknowledged your departure with nods or less friendly stares. Letting out a breath of relief as you left, you strode toward the stairwell and climbed the numerous flights to the room that Enzo had informed you was Tom’s.

            The level felt eerily isolated. As far as you knew, the castle spontaneously created and eliminated Head student dormitories based on which houses the Head students were in each year, and the level you were on certainly had an odd air to it, as if it didn’t quite belong with the other dormitories. While the doors to the sixth year boys’ dormitories had been perpetually open and the room had usually been full of students coming in and out, chatting loudly, this floor came abruptly to a stop before a singular, closed door. You were initially unnerved by the silence, but as you drew closer, the sound of harsh voices reached your ears.

            You took pains to quiet your steps as you approached the door. Someone else was in Tom’s dormitory, and they weren’t having a friendly conversation. You wondered if the other person was Slughorn – had something gone bad during the experiment? But in the stillness, it became clear that the other party was much younger, the voice less weathered. It was one you knew well. The other person behind the door, you realized, was Mattheo.

            You raised your fist to knock, but a sudden shout halted you. “I won’t tolerate this anymore!” The voice was sharp and cutting: Tom’s. You paused, not wanting to eavesdrop, but reluctant to interrupt as well.

            “Tolerate what?” Mattheo demanded. His voice was slightly quieter, and it was more difficult to hear his words. “ – can’t let me have anything!”

            “You disgrace our family name!” Tom roared, so ferocious that it made you jump in your skin. “You know the circumstances by which we live, that we have to work twice as hard as anyone else to gain respect because of the destruction our parents wrought!” His voice grew lower. “…us to have good things…opportunities…squander it all…” You involuntarily stepped closer to the door, but he began shouting again. “I stuck my neck out for you once and I’m not going to do it again!”

            “I’m not asking you to do it again, you daft toerag!” Mattheo shot back. “—out of my business…Stop…deserving of everything!”

            “...a person, not a thing, Mattheo,” Tom snarled. Your eyes widened and you felt yourself jolt slightly in surprise. “—can’t…pick up and put down…wouldn’t keep fueling your lies.”

            “Oh, for Salazar’s sake, stop being so self-righteous!” A moment later, something smashed against the wall. “Guess what…chose me.” Your brows furrowed. Who were they talking about? The bits of conversation were so fragmented that it was difficult to tell.

            “…this morning.”

            “...would’ve done if you hadn’t gotten involved!”

            “By sharing that you still had your tongue in Turpin’s mouth last night?” Tom loudly demanded. “Are you so…anyone telling the truth makes you angry?” Your mind began churning as you connected the dots. Mattheo had asked you to get back together with him that morning…but you’d said no because Tom had told you that he and Lisa were still together. That was what they were arguing about.

            “I have every right to be angry!” Mattheo roared. You were barely standing close to the door, but his exclamations were plain to hear. “You don’t get to be some emotionless freak for seventeen years…decide that the one person that you want is someone who's mine!” Your breathing abruptly ceased as your heart pounded in your throat. You stared at the door in front of you in disbelief.

            “...was never yours” The fury in Tom’s voice sent chills down your spine as he taunted his brother. “…perfectly clear on that…suited you…”

            “You couldn’t have cared less what I did before!” Mattheo scoffed. “Now I have to listen to your harping every day…as if you care! …your reputation...just admit it!”

            “That has nothing to do with this!”

            “Right…don’t feel baser emotions.” Mattheo’s voice turned dark and faded into the distance.

            The muffled conversation continued for some time. Then, there was a moment of silence, and footsteps began approaching. You panicked, looking for a place to hide. To your relief, you saw a large bookcase in the corner perpendicular to the dormitory and ducked into the shadows next to it.

            “…end this way,” came Mattheo’s voice as the door opened.

            “Leave.”

            The threat in Tom’s voice was clear, and you shivered.

            “...mine first, you know,” Mattheo said darkly, a hint of arrogance sneaking through in his voice as he stepped through the doorway. You longed to step out from behind the bookcase and smack him. “That will never change.”

            “Leave!”

            From the shadows, you saw Mattheo storm out, his footsteps echoing noisily down the otherwise silent hall. You held your breath, but to your relief he didn’t seem to suspect any other presence in the corridor, and quickly disappeared down the stairwell. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy breath. In the darkness, you could feel the tremor of your hands.

            “Who’s out there?”

            You barely managed to stifle your gasp of surprise as your eyes flew open. Tom was glancing around the corridor, wand in hand as he looked out the open door of his dormitory. How could he possibly know for sure that someone else was present? You stayed hidden.

            “Who’s out there?”

            His body tensed, his grip on his wand tightening. Nervously, you bit your lip and emerged from the shadows before you could think better of it. You prayed that it wasn’t too obvious how long you’d been there.

            “Um, hi,” you squeaked, your voice cutting through the silence of the corridor.

            “Y/N?”

            “Yes, hi,” you repeated, your shaking hands struggling to pull the little black notebook from your bag. “Um, you left your planner in the library last night, and I figured you would want it, but I got a little…preoccupied…this morning, and then you weren’t around all day – Ernie told me that you were with Slughorn, by the way, congratulations, hope it went well – and I still knew the Slytherin password, so I came around, and, well, here.” You thrust the notebook out in front of you, clamping your mouth shut to stop yourself from rambling. “I figured you would want it.”

            “I haven’t got a – oh, that.” Understanding took shape on his face as he saw the notebook. His features smoothed as he took it from you, trapping you in his piercing gaze. He stepped away from you and you wondered if he was just going to slip back into his room, but he paused. “It seems you are very nosy, darling.” You felt your face heat up.

            “I didn’t look inside, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you assured him, your voice shaking slightly.

            “Eavesdropping is never a good way to stay out of trouble,” he countered, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows slightly. You froze as he opened his bedroom door.

            “Wait, Tom,” you called before you could stop yourself. He turned around you’re your nervousness seized you again, your stomach dropping. “I…” You took a deep breath, struggling for words. “You and Mattheo were arguing. Why?”

            “That’s none of your business,” he replied, his voice as cold as ever.

            “I know that it is.”

            He stared at you in silence, and you felt a bolt of anxiety run through you. Maybe you’d misheard him somehow or misinterpreted the conversation. You began to panic, but stilled as he stepped closer to you.

            “How much did you hear?” His tone was chilling.

            “Enough,” you declared defiantly. “Enough to know that you were arguing about…about what you told me last night. And about me.” He rolled his eyes.

            “This is ridiculous.” He stepped back. “I appreciate you returning my things, don’t bother me with this again.” As he turned to leave for the second time, you shook your head incredulously. How could this be over? All of your cards were out on the table already, you had nothing to lose.

            “That’s a shame,” you said, forcefully enough to freeze him in his tracks. “Because…I would choose you, you know.”

Again, he said nothing, and again you felt panic rising in your chest as he stood with his back to you, unmoving. Fine, then, you’d said your peace. Turning on your heel, you decided that the best thing to do was cut your losses and leave. But as you stepped away, you felt a strong grip on your wrist pulling you back. Your skin tingled as he drew you back to him.

            “Don’t play games with me, darling,” he murmured, a nearly imperceptible tremor in his own voice. “If all you want is to wind up my brother…”

            “I couldn’t care less about that,” you replied, your heart pounding in your chest with a force you hadn’t even known was possible as you took a step towards him. “I’m not here to get under Mattheo’s skin, Tom. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you.”

            He held you in his gaze, the silence palpable. Then, suddenly, he was very close, and all you wanted was for him to be closer. He took your face in his hands and crashed his lips into yours.

            You froze for a moment, then came to your senses and started to kiss him back, grabbing the collar of his shirt in your hands as you felt his arms snake around your waist, giving you chills. The kiss was slow and deliberate, spine-tingling, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. When the two of you finally broke apart you could feel yourself shaking, your knees weak.

            “I’m sorry that I listened in.” Your voice faltered as you gazed up at him.

            “I’m not.”

A wave of heat appeared in his eyes and you took the initiative this time, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. It was euphoric. His touches were slow and deliberate, as though he knew just how to take you apart piece by piece and he had every intention of doing so. Something in your body had craved the feeling of his hands on your skin since the first time you’d experienced it in the corridors, and you were finally able to indulge your addiction.

As he backed you into the cold stone wall of the corridor, his lips moved to the skin on your collarbone and you bit your lip hard in an effort to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape, remembering somewhere in the back of your mind that someone might hear you from down the stairs. He seemed to notice your hesitation and picked you up suddenly, bringing you to the other side of the doorway so that the two of you stood in his dormitory. For good measure, as he set you down, he gestured to the door beside him and it slammed closed, the air heavy with magic. You raised your eyebrows, wondering if some of the professors would even be capable of such a wordless, wandless spell.

“You know you can just close those with your hands, right?” You couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, recalling that fateful day in the library when you’d snapped your quill in half. Your spine tingled with anticipation as he narrowed his eyes at you, smirking.

“Salazar, you do have a smart mouth on you.” He backed you up against the wall, his voice low and hungry. “Who knew an angel could have such an attitude?”

“Yeah?” you retorted, your eyes sparkling mischievously. “Shut me up, then.”

He captured your lips in another mind-blowing kiss and your mind went blank as you let his touch intoxicate you. It was right, it was perfect, it was everything you wanted. You felt like you’d finally found your way home after a long wander in the dark.

“With pleasure, my darling.”

As the sun rose in the sky the next morning, you glanced into the Great Hall through the entryway, eyeing the calm and sleepy students who ate their breakfast amidst quiet conversation. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, and the scene looked utterly serene. You glanced up at Tom, who was already watching you with the slightest hint of a smile on his face. His arm was wrapped around your waist protectively, assuring you of his presence beside you.

“Ready to go shake things up a bit?” you asked, giggling softly.

“Maybe it’ll give the children enough to chatter about that they don’t go releasing feral frisbees in the Owlery.”

“Unlikely.” You grinned up at him. “But it’s worth a shot.”

“Indeed.” He absentmindedly ran his fingers through the ends of your hair as you took a deep breath. “Are you certain that you’re ready?” You shrugged.

“Oh, I figure that we’ll scandalize the school for a few days, and then someone will score a really great goal in Quidditch or drink too much Firewhiskey at a party and everyone will have something else to talk about. I’m not worried.” Then your brow furrowed. “What about you and Mattheo? Are you two going to be okay?” Tom glanced at you calmly.

“Family troubles are inherent to carrying the surname Riddle.” His thumb stroked your hip softly. “It won’t be the end of us.”

You nodded, taking in the silence for one final moment.

“Alright. I’m ready.”

His arm rested on your hip, holding you close, as the two of you stepped into the Great Hall together.

[justjesse116]

I've been seeing a lot of "If Dabi dies it'll be a mercy" lately, and I have some Feelings™.

For the record, my blog is essentially Daddy Issues Central, so I feel like I'm uniquely qualified to weigh in on this situation.

But that's neither here or there, so;

On the one hand, I'm sure Dabi DOES in fact want to live, but wants and needs are different, yes? Would death really be a mercy? That depends. He needs help, REAL help. And that road is a long and winding thing. But I believe in my innermost heart that he'd have the support he needs. If I ever thought my sibling was dead, but then they popped up a decade later, even if they had committed horrible crimes I legitimately believe that I'd give them another chance. And the same with my mother. For all the crime shows she watches, she always says that she'd turn me in, but I honestly doubt she would, and even if she did I think she'd stand by me. There's something about being the first child, your mothers 'first baby'. There has only been a couple times my mother has called me her first baby, but it is never a pretty thing. It's heart wrenching, every time she's called me that it's been voice cracking, heart breaking situations. And every time I look at Dabi, I can almost hear Rei's voice, cracking, "my first baby." I refuse to believe his mother and siblings would abandon him, I reject that possibility absolutely.

And that's not even taking The League into account, because whether you like it or not, Dabi cares about all of them in some way. My whole point being; Dabi has a lot more people who care about him than he thinks, which seems to be a common theme with people who have a low self-worth.

So there's that, now on to the less pleasant side of things. So; would death REALLY be a mercy? And that's the million dollar question, isn't it? Unfortunately, I believe without a shadow of a doubt that Dabi couldn't possibly be happier than if he burned himself alive, taking everyone he wanted with him. I think he truly believes death is the only option, because he's been so miserable, so hurt for a full fucking decade at this point, he just wants it to end. When you've been so thoroughly rejected and neglected by someone who is literally 50% of your life, that hurt never goes away. Then factor in that someone believes their entire family is the same, you've got a recipe for disaster. And whether or not that's the 'good' or 'right' decision, it doesn't change the fact that it's a very human response to perceived rejection. Just because it isn't 'actually' real doesn't mean it doesn't feel VERY real to whoever it is happening to.

So I guess at the end of all this, I say what Dabi really wants is a 50 / 50 shot. Unsatisfying, I'm sure. But I really do think he feels both ways.

But I do need to add in that I NEED this God damn singed fucker to live, because if he dies not only is it going to be thematically awful for him and Shouto, but I personally will never recover.

As sad as it is, this ridiculous fictional character was the only thing that made me realize that I was fixating on my own sperm donor (who I haven't spoken to in over a decade) and that I need to GET A GRIP and fucking move on.

That's the main reason I need Todoroki Touya to live, because I'm selfish and sad and I need to see that he can live through this hell. Because if he can do it maybe I can do it too.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

3. A Choice for the Damned

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch

The sheriff leans over the antagonist with a glare. He backs away, groaning, the first gunshot bleeding out. The damsel is strapped to the fence, a bandana gag around her mouth, and tears in her eyes, “Help me!”

The sheriff nods to her, eyes determined. “Now you just stay calm, honey.” He towers over the injured man. “Please, sir. Please, sir, please.”

The sheriff holds his gun up, “There's an old Mexican eulogy. Feo fuerte y formal. Means he was ugly, strong, and had dignity. Well, Joey, I'll give you two out of three on that front.” Waiting in anticipation for him to pull the trigger, the damsel turns away whimpering.

“Do I really have to kill him?” Cooper’s voice rings out with an unsteady tone. I look up at him, as the loose rope is being pulled off of my frame by an assistant.

“Cut!”

Cooper motions for the director, “Emil, can you come over here? I got to talk to you for a second.” Cooper turns to me, lending me a hand to rise to my feet. “You were amazing, sweetheart. Just like always.” I smile, giving his hand a light squeeze. He had been very open about his concerns with this individual film. He didn’t want to be seen as the enemy. Cooper had a good heart and a strong grasp of the reputation of his characters. He held them dear.

As Emil nears I remove my hand and avert to my set chair. “Listen, I got to talk to you about these, these new pages, you know? I mean, I-I'm the sheriff, right? Well, why can't I just arrest the guy like I normally do? That's what I do.” Emil nods in understanding, “The... The audience, Coop, yeah? They already know you're a good man. They want to see that even a good man as yourself can be driven too far sometimes.” “Yeah, I understand that. But that's not really my thing, you know, Emil, that's not what I do. I mean, Bob, is Bob around here anywhere?”

I pipe up from my chair, where an assistant brushed makeup on my cheeks. “Bob's been fired, Coop.” He turns to me shocked. “What?” “The Studio fired him.” “Why?” Emil sighs, “See, turns out... Bob's a bit of a communist.”

Cooper's eyes widen, “A communist? Cadillac Bob?” Emil nods, hands on his hips, “Cadillac Bob! The very one.”

Cooper shakes his head, frustration clear in his eyes. “Well, what a shame, he was such a great writer. Terrible shame.” “One of the best, but he had to go. Which is why this movie is so important. You see, it's a new kind of western.

The power of the individual when the chips are down. The new America, it's why I'm telling you, so... that's why it'd be really great if you could just... shoot Jorge in the fսck¡ng head, yeah?” Coop lets his head fall at the director's words. The fight was clearly not worth the time for either of them. “Right.”

I sit silently, watching the exchange. Cooper really stressed this change for his role and reputation. He would always be the good guy in my eyes.

“He causing drama again?” I look over my shoulder to see Barb. I suck in a breath composing myself. I smile lightly pretending to now just look towards Cooper. “He’s not too keen on the new ending.” Barb furrows her brow. “They’ve changed it? He didn’t mention that.” My heart tinged in the most sinful way. He shares his thoughts and troubles with me instead of her. Just time was all he needed. He said so.

Cooper stiffened at the sight of the two of us speaking. He excuses himself from the director, “Uh, hey, let's, uh, let's pick this up after lunch, all right?”

He arrives placing his hand on the arm of my chair, force of habit. “I’m just going to have to do it.” His sigh of defeat reflects in his eyes. I frown, patting his hand in support, “it will be fine, Coop.” Barn watches the exchange, brows furrowed, lips in a tight forced smile.

Cooper makes himself drift away from my chair, wrapping an arm around Barb. “Are we about ready to do this thing?” She nods, bilking away any doubt in her mind. “I have both of your clothes right here.” She hands a box to Cooper and a bag to me. The lavish tissue makes it appear as a gift. What a joke.

“They’re both in Cooper's signature colors. Your dress will be the trademark of the bots. If you have any jewelry you’d like to add just slip it on before the shoot.” I smile at her sweetly, “Thank you, Barb. I’ll go change right now.”

As I leave I don't miss the glare Barb sends in Cooper’s direction. She says something causing him to roll his eyes and pat her shoulder. She brushes him off and walks away. My heart feels for her, truly, but in no way was I willing to end my addiction.

I spin in the blue fabric, the skirt of the dress flowing around delicately. The gold piping at the edge of the skirt, waist, and neckline added some extra dimension. It was likely hand-crafted just for me. I looked at my table, seeing the pearls Cooper gifted me poking out from the bottom of my bag. I bite my lip in hesitation before grasping the expensive earrings and necklace and adding them to the outfit before exiting my trailer.

I walk up to the studio doors, meeting Barb and Cooper. Cooper rakes his gaze over my frame with a smile. His eyes lasted a second longer on my jewelry; his smile widened. Barb clears her throat, “Are you two ready to meet the suits?” I nod with a smile, ready to charm and look pretty for the billionaire bastards.

Cooper nods, “I'll try not to embarrass you. No promises, though.” The three of us walk in meeting a man and a woman. “Mr. Howard, Ms. (L/n). It is great to meet you.” I shake the gentleman’s hand with a smile, “it’s a pleasure.” The man proceeds to kiss my knuckle. “I’m a big fan. Saw you in Vegas last year.” Before I could respond, Cooper pushed his hand forward, a fake smile plastered on his face, “Hey, nice to meet you.”

The woman speaks, “On behalf of the whole Vault-Tec family, we wanted to say how delighted we are that Barb could use her connections to get to you and Ms. (L/n).”

Cooper nods, “You know, I've never done an advertisement before in my life.” I lean into his side, prodding my elbow into his side lightly. “Don’t you worry, Cowboy. I’ll show you how it’s done.” Everyone laughs, everyone but Barb.

“Over here?” I ask gesturing to the large Vault Tech backdrop. My heels clicked with each step. “Yeah. Let’s get America’s sweetheart wrapped up first, then Coop can have a shot. Sound good?” The male member spoke. I couldn’t help but look towards Cooper as he called me sweetheart. I was not disappointed to find him burning a glare into the man’s frame.

I stand like a poised housewife, hand on hips and a pearly white smile. “Beautiful!” I turn around, the skirt flowing, placing my hand behind my back. “She’s such a beauty!” They had me pretend to vacuum, hold an apple pie, and eat a fucking cherry like some porn star! Cooper wasn’t wrong about what he had said, they would do some shady shit.

“That’s a wrap on Ms. (Y/n)!” A roar of applause and howls from the men coursed through the set. I bowed slightly, the cheeky smile of a performer shone on my face. “You know what would make this even better?” I stare at the man in confusion, “now how could I possibly make this any better?” Please don’t say more pictures with fruit, I silently beg.

The male smiles widely, hope in his eyes. “If you’d sing.” Several of the men nod in agreement. “Yeah, come on.”

I look over to Cooper and with a nod he tips the final persuasion in my decision. I wave my hand at the group of people, “Any chance one of you might play the piano?” They hurriedly push a skinny man out. He gulps with a smile. “I-I do miss.” I smile at him extending a hand. “(Y/n), nice to meet you,” I drag on with a friendly smile. “Henry. Henry MacLean.”

I motion to the grand piano so conveniently set right next to the backdrop, “if you wouldn’t mind.” Henry’s cheeks turn rosy, “yes, of course. It would be an honor.” He sits down composing his jitters. I lean down in a hushed manner, “It would be perfect if you knew how to play, I’m the one you’re looking for.” If even possible, his smile grows wider and he begins the tune on the piano softly. I pat the top of the piano to the tune beginning to perform.

“I see you lookin' 'round the corner

Come on inside and pull up a chair

No need to feel like a stranger

Cause we're all a little strange in here.”

Cooper smiles as he watches me, he is under my spell. I felt the power of having him at my will with his wife so near.

“Have you got a history that needs erasing?

Did you come in just for the beer and cigarettes?

A broken down dream you're tired of chasing

Oh, well I'm just the girl to make you forget.”

And I was the one to make him forget everything that pledged him. He told me his troubles big and small. We shared a heart of the same soul.

“So sit down your pretty face

You came to the right place

Oh, where every night it starts once more

I'm telling you, friend, your search is at an end

Cause I'm the one you're lookin' for.”

I spin around the piano with grace. Lifting myself on top of it. I dramatically cross my legs and lay down flat on the black surface.

Louder applause erupted. You would think it was an actual bought-out concert. I sit up with my hand over my heart and a killer smile.

A hand reaches out to assist. I grab it not bothering to look. “That was remarkable, (y/n),” Henry whispered in my ear. As my feet hit the ground I back away from him. “Thank you, thank you everyone.” Cooper claps with a flat smile, his eyes bore into Henry’s back, watching his every move.

I take a bow before moving off the floor. “Looks like I warmed them up for ya.” I laugh standing next to Cooper and Barb, whose face is fighting to break her picture-perfect smile.

Cooper makes his way into the backdrop. “Hell, I don’t know if I’ll top that.” Cooper begins his work, striking pose after pose. He puts his hands on his hips, and before I stop myself I whistle at him playfully.

Barb chuckles beside me, very gently, loud enough for only my ears. I can feel her eyes burn into my side. I turn to her with a smile. She returns it, her eyes sending silent daggers. Her eyes graze over the necklace. “That is so lovely.” I touch the pearls in devotion, “thank you.” “Where’d you get them?” I look at her without a beat, “it was a gift.” She hums with a sharp nod. I feel the back of my neck heat up as we continue to watch Cooper in silence.

~

Barb and I sat in the car, silent on the drive home. I knew she was angry with me. It wasn’t very discreet how I acted towards (y/n). I just needed time to sort everything out. Sadly distancing myself from Barb was part of the mission.

“Henry and (y/n) would make a cute couple.”

“What?” I almost swerved out of my lane. “That guy who played the piano?” She nods, “They had chemistry.” I grip the wheel, I can feel jealousy in the pit of my chest, rotting from the inside out. “I don’t think so, Barb. He’s not her type.” “And what is her type?” I roll my eyes S we roll up to a red light, taking a minute to look at her. Her arms are crossed and her face looking at me wildly. “I see what you’re doing.” “Then it shouldn’t be difficult for you to admit.” I huff, “admit what?”

The red light makes the car appear in a rose hue as if I’m on fire. I am definitely in the hot seat. “That you have feelings for her.”

The light turns green and Barb begins her accusations. “You look at her like she’s a prize. You’re constantly talking about her. You barely come home at a reasonable hour, and when you are free you make plans with her!” I shake my head, “We’re close Barb, what do you want me to do?” She slumps, crossing her arms, mumbling, “Too damn close.”

I ran a hand over my face, thankful I was pulling in the driveway. “I think you need some rest, Barb. I know I do.” I exit the car not even waiting for her. I didn’t know if I could do it. I knew I had settled on it, but now seeing the consequences at bay I feel torn.

I love Barb. She supported me in my career through the good and bad. She has been a wonderful mother to Janey. She’s a beautiful woman who I care for in my heart. She is my wife, and I should be able to surpass desires, but (y/n)… my fire, my muse, my reason for waking every morning. She is who keeps me alive. I can picture our lives together. I’d purchase that ranch, buy a big diamond for her finger, and fill the house with any furniture she wanted. Janey would stay with us, on a set schedule arranged with Barb. It could be so perfect, and it should be easy to tell her, but that isn’t true.

I pour myself a whisky, going to rest on the couch. Barb slams the door, causing me to look back with a glare. “Janey is asleep.” “What do you care, Cooper?” Barb slams the everlasting files down with force. “I work my ass off to try and get us a spot in these vaults to be safe, and you think you can go sleeping around with that whore?” I sit up, my face growing red. “She’s not a whore, Barb. I think you should go to bed before you say something you regret.”

She smirks, laughing, “You really think I’m that stupid? Do you think I don’t know who comes and goes in my own house? Did you think our neighbors wouldn’t tell me you fucked her in our hot tub?” My face pales as her words cut me down. I sink into the sofa, a shriveled shameful man. “I watched her walk her ass down the street and get into her car. Jone from two houses down has a photograph. Wouldn’t it just be awful for that to be shown to the tabloids?” Barb stands in front of me, arms crossed and her foot tapping. “It’s me or it’s her, Cooper. You make your choice tonight and that is it.” She leaves with a stomp, going up the stairs and into the bedroom.

I sit there for I don’t know how long. Barb was really threatening her career she worked so hard for. I couldn’t let her dreams die because of me. I run a hand over my face with a groan. I only look up from my now-empty glass to see Janey taking a seat next to me. “What are you doing up, pumpkin? It’s late.” Janey has tear streaks painting her cheeks, she sniffles quietly. “Mommy was yelling.” I hug her close, resting my chin on her head. “It’s okay, Janey.”

“Are you going to leave us, Daddy?”

Fuck. There it was. The only reason for staying. I could have her, I could have the life in the hills, relaxing with my two favorite people. Janey would love (y/n).

Janey leans further into me, sobbing now. “Daddy please don’t leave me.” I hug her tightly. I can see the fantasy slipping away, more and more as I sink into the couch.

“No, baby, Daddy’s not going anywhere.” I pick her up carrying her to her room. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

After settling Janey down, I enter the lion's den, my bedroom with the awaiting wrath. Barb lay under the covers in the bed unmoving. I stare at her with sorrow. I had caused much pain, but my heart could never be closed off from feeling the constant ache for her. I lay down with Barb, wrapping an arm around her. “I choose you, Barb,” I whisper before closing my eyes and averting to my only pleasure, my fantasy of her. My mind is now the only freedom I have to picture her in such a manner. Remembering her soft moans and the arch of her back as she released. It was all just a memory now.