#but for now this is a disaster in the making

[noor-alanqar]

I'm Nour Alanqar, and reaching out to you during a time of unimaginable hardship. I am 26 years old, married to Ashraf Ismail, who is 32, and together we have three beautiful children: Hussein, 6, Rajaa, 5, and Youssef, just 10 months old. Our lives have been turned upside down by the devastating war in Gaza, and we desperately need your help.

My daughter Rajaa is a radiant beam of sunshine, bringing boundless joy, warmth, and love to everyone she meets.

On a dark night at the beginning of the war, our area was subjected to massive bombing. The explosions reached our home, forcing us to flee into the night, running amidst periodic explosions and searching for survival. We made our way to southern Gaza by morning, seeking refuge in Rafah.

This is our home, filled with our memories and moments of joy and happiness, now reduced to rubble. Its destruction shattered our hearts.

In Rafah, we found shelter in a crowded warehouse filled with strangers, all of us struggling to find basic necessities like food, water, safety, and cleanliness. Despite these challenges, we were again hit by direct bombardment. My husband was injured in the shoulder, and the scene around us was filled with blood and corpses. The cries of my children in those moments still echo in my head.

A fragment of what it once was, and now, what it has become.

We moved several times to places described as safe, only to face new tragedies. During this period, my precious daughter Raja contracted hepatitis, adding to our suffering.

It was incredibly difficult for me to endure these disasters, especially as I was in the process of giving birth. Youssef was deprived of proper breastfeeding and the necessary nutrition for his age. Hussein's right to education and a safe childhood have been cruelly taken from him.

My baby Youssef, whom I clung to throughout the war, running with him through the rubble of shattered homes to escape.

At an age when Hussein should have been enjoying his childhood, all his rights were taken away from him.

Our situation is dire, and we need your support to rebuild our lives and provide a future for our children. Your kindness and generosity can make a profound difference. Your contributions will help us secure safe shelter, access to medical care, and the basic necessities of life.

Please, consider helping us during this critical time. Every donation, no matter the size, brings us one step closer to safety, stability, and a chance to rebuild our lives.

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[sinofwriting]

Cover It All Up - Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,214 Summary: As she starts to get ready to meet her boyfriend's mom, she can’t help but be nervous considering that last time she met a boyfriend’s family he dumped her all because his parents didn’t approve of her.

Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

After the disaster of Lando Norris, she had told herself no more British men and no more F1 drivers. She had at least stuck to one thing.

Charles was different from Lando. The only thing they really seemed to have in common was that they both were F1 drivers and competitive people. But where Lando would get stroppy when she beat him in paddle or during their one bowling date, Charles would laugh, grinning at her as he kissed her in celebration, telling her how easy she made it look, despite that sometimes not being the case at all.

It wasn’t that Lando had been a bad boyfriend, he had been nice, just not for her. Or rather she wasn’t for him.

She thinks about it as she stares at herself in the mirror, regretting the sleeveless top she bought to meet Charles’ mom. It was pretty, the color complementing her perfectly, there was just one problem. The lack of sleeves. Meaning her tattoos were showing.

She had lost count how many she had after getting her first one when she was eighteen and then getting three more within that same month. She had some on her thighs as well, a tattoo on the back of her shoulder and a small one on her ankle.

She loves her tattoos, there isn’t a single one she regrets but as she looks at them now, she does. The shame and embarrassment from meeting Lando’s parents still has a spot in her mind.

They barely had spoken to her during the dinner, their eyes lingering on her tattoos, the multiple piercings in her ears. Her words had seemed to fall on deaf ears, her compliments, and questions. She hadn’t been surprised when a day later Lando told her that they didn’t approve of her. It made her laugh. Lando’s parents not approving of her because she had tattoos and a few piercings in her ears. She had been surprised when he broke up with her in practically the same breath.

“It’s just a lot, isn’t it?” He gestured at her. Blood had rushed to her cheeks. “What do you mean?” “Well,” He chewed on his lip for a second. “The tattoos, the piercings.” He shrugged. “It’s just a lot, a lot to see, to deal with.” That had made the blood rush more, knowing he was referring to when she got her last tattoo. “And besides.” He continued. “I can’t really be with someone that my parents don’t approve of. It would never work.”

The memory has her eyes stinging, she had never felt so small or embarrassed before. Taking her top off, she puts it back on its hanger, placing it back in the closet before looking at its contents. There wasn’t much. Charles had tried to get her to bring more stuff to his, but she had figured one suitcase was more than enough. It filled the two drawers he gave her, she ignored the existence that those two drawers belonged to a dresser that was hers, and her clothes that had to be hung up fit perfectly in the section he gave her. She also ignored that they didn’t fit perfectly, tons of free space around them.

As she looked at what she brought with her, she sighs. So much of her wardrobe was short sleeves, tank tops, and sleeveless things, all to show off her tattoos and here at Charles’ she only had one top that had full length sleeves.

It was cute, it just wasn’t the top she wanted to wear, she had imagined wearing when meeting Charles’ mom, but it would have to be the one. Pulling it off the hanger, she quickly pulls it on, just barely resisting the urge to make a face as she looks in the mirror. She forces her eyes away from the mirror as she begins to take her piercings out, including her fake septum one.

As she takes her helix out on her left, she sees Charles behind her.

“You’re putting different ones in?” She makes a humming sound. He smiles, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Can I pick again?” She can’t help but smile at the question, leaning back into him for a second. “You can pick something for my lobes. I’ll be wearing this top.” He frowns as he looks at her tray of jewelry. “I thought you wanted to wear the one you bought yesterday.” “It didn’t look nice on me.” “Well, that can’t be true.” He lightly scoffs, before holding up a pair for her approval. She shakes her head at the opal earrings, but opens her hand for him to place them in. “Next thing I know, you’ll be giving me earrings with your number.” He flushes at the comment, looking away from her. “Charles!” He grins at her laughter, wrapping himself around her again, watching as she puts the earrings in. “You look beautiful with my number on you, mon amour. I can’t help but want to see you in it all the time.”

“Can I not pick another one?” He asks after a moment of her fiddling with her earrings, the backs of them always giving her a little more trouble. “Like uh,” he taps a spot on her ear, trying to remember it. “Your conch.” She shakes her head, turning in his arms. “I’m not wearing any others today. You can pick all of them tomorrow.” His eyebrows raise, “Including this one?” His hand goes between their bodies to gently press at her navel. “Including that one.” She kisses his cheek. “Now, are you ready to go?” He nods, eyes darting around her face, drinking her in before he frowns. “Amour, you aren’t wearing any other piercings?” She shakes her head, stepping back. “I’m not wearing any others today.” “I thought you just meant your ears, I didn’t think you meant your fake ones.” His frown deepens. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her go anywhere and only wear one visible piercing. “Is everything okay?” “Yeah.” She tells him. “Just not feeling today.” He looks at her, something not feeling right, but he nods. “Okay.” He kisses her forehead. “Let’s go then.”

As they walk to his mother’s, he can’t help but look at her. Not just because it’s hard for him to not look at her, which it is, because something is wrong. He’s never seen her cover up her tattoos when it hasn’t been cold out and he’s never seen her with so few piercings. It just isn’t her. It’s not who she is.

Her grip on his hand is also a little tight and he can see her fingers on her other hand constantly rubbing at her palm. She’s nervous, he realizes, feeling a bit stupid. He had thought that he had calmed the worst of them, but now as they grow closer, he fears he hasn’t.

Maybe he hadn’t told her enough how excited his mom was to meet her, to see her. She had so many questions about her tattoos and her piercings, where she got the fake ones, and so many other things it made Charles' head spin. He had never seen her so excited to meet one of his girlfriends before.

“She’s going to love you.” Charles tells her as they reach the front door, pressing a small kiss to her cheek. “Promise.” She smiles at him, her nerves bleeding through. “Okay.” He presses another kiss to her cheek before opening the door.

“Maman!” He calls, stepping inside. He wants to go further in the house but knows better than to leave the entryway with his shoes on. Bending, her hand still in his, he loosens the laces of his shoes with his free hand before getting them off. Staying bent over, he loosens the laces on hers as well, smiling at the large sigh she gives.

Standing straight he nearly jumps at the sight of his mom watching the two of them, a fond smile on her face. “Maman!” He greets, giving a squeeze to her hand before letting it go to hug his mom.

Wrapping his arms around her, he expects for her to murmur how much she’s missed him, fuss about his hair, press a kiss to his cheek, while she hugs him back, but all she does is give him a quick squeeze before moving out of his arms and past him. He looks at her wounded, but she doesn’t notice, enveloping his girlfriend in a hug, whose eyes widen before she returns it.

“Oh, you look beautiful, Y/N. I was so happy when Charles told me you’d be coming today.” “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Leclerc.” “Pascale, please.” She says, finally pulling away. “Have you eaten? What would you like to drink? Come sit.”

Charles watches, mouth slightly dropped as his mother ushers her into the kitchen, completely ignoring him. She always asked him that, and told him to sit, no matter that he had grown up here. He was one of her babies, she always said, before gently pinching his cheek.

“Water is more than fine, Mrs. Leclerc.” He hears her laugh as he enters the kitchen and sees them sitting at the table. “Please, call me Pascale.” She smiles at his mom and he can feel the love he has for her grow more as she reaches for his mom’s hand, taking it in hers for a second. “Pascale.” She says, “Water is more than fine. And I have something for you.” “Oh, there is no need for that.” Charles watches, surprised as he sees her reach into her purse and pull out a jewelry box. He had no idea that she had brought something for his mom. “Charles mentioned that it can be hard to find nice topaz and opal jewelry.” She says, voice quiet and Pascale opens the box. “It’s beautiful.” She breathes, carefully taking it out of the box.

His eyes widen as he sees the necklace in his mom’s hand. It was stunning. The topaz perfectly framed with opal. He had never seen anything like it.

“Mon amour,” the words are breathless as he shakes his head. “How did you?” She ducks her head, “I wanted to give something to you,” she looks at Pascale. “That represents all of your kids. It was hard to find, but I’m happy I did.” Pascale places a hand over her heart, tears stinging her eyes and she puts the necklace gently on the table before wrapping her arms around the girl. “Thank you, ange. Thank you so much.” Charles watches as she melts into the hug, her nerves finally seeming to leave her and the sight of the two most important women in his life embracing makes him breathe easier, his own nerves disappearing.

“Now,” Pascale starts, pulling away. “Charles is going to pour us some wine.” “Maman,” he tries protesting, but she continues ignoring him and he huffs before letting his feet lead him to where the wine glasses are. “And you are going to tell me all about your tattoos.” “Oh.” She looks shocked and Charles brows can’t help but furrow. “You of course don’t have to.” Pascale rushes to say. “I just have seen so many pictures of them, from Charles and your Instagram, and would love to see them and hear about them. Your piercings as well. I had no idea you could get such good fake piercings.” “No, I-I would love to tell you about them.” Her eyes glance over to Charles, who is concentrating on pouring wine. “I was just a bit nervous meeting you with all of those things. I didn’t know you had an interest.” Pascale looks at her in confusion. “Since Charles showed me your photos, I have wanted to meet you. You are such a gorgeous girl and you make him so happy. And I love your tattoos. Did Charles never say?” She shakes her head. “No.”

“Charles!” He stops, eyes wide, just about to set the glasses of wine on the table. “What?” “You never told her that I love her tattoos? Charles!” “I thought I had.” He defends, putting a glass in front of both of them before sitting in the chair next to his girlfriend, his arm immediately coming up to rest on the back of her chair as he presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’m sorry, mon amour.” “It’s okay.” She tells him, with a small laugh. She turns her head to look back at Pascale. “Really even if he had told me, I might have not believed him.” She pauses, taking a sip of a wine. “The last time I met someone’s parents, they didn’t care for my tattoos and piercings. He broke up with me over it.” The older woman scoffs, shaking her head. “Their loss and our gain. They are lovely from what I’ve seen.” “Would you like to know about my favorite one?” “Yes!”

Charles watches fondly as she pushes up her left sleeve, exposing a myriad of tattoos before pointing at the one just above her wrist on the inside, telling his mom all about it. It’s a story he’s heard before, more than once, but just like his mom he can’t help but listen intently as well.

[alchemistc]

fascination with your presentation | bucktommy 1/1

read on ao3

Tommy likes to touch things. It's just a random quirk of his that Eddie's noticed - a hand sliding along the back of the couch as he follows Eddie into the kitchen to grab a beer, fingers balancing along the table as he leans, elbow pressing into the frame of the doorway like he's gauging the space between walls.

He's tactile - a smack to the space between his shoulders, fist bumps and high fives and teasing hair ruffles when he's got Eddie pinned in the middle of a spar and they both know Eddie isn't getting out of it.

It's nice. There aren't a lot of men, especially with their background, in their line of work, who are remotely comfortable expressing affection like that.

He's a fan.

Christopher is less so, when Tommy lays a big hand to the crown of his head and goes for a noogie. He huffs, rolls his eyes, rolls his head forward and away from the touch, makes some noise about a call he's supposed to make later that night and how he doesn't want his hair messed up for it, and Tommy holds his hands up in apology, fighting a grin as Chris smooths his hair back down.

Eddie's used to it already, so it takes him a second to really notice Tommy rounding the edge of the table to flick through papers and pictures and receipts tacked to the fridge as he digs through one of his drawers in search of the bottle opener he knows he has stashed in here somewhere. Eddie's more of a twist cap beer guy, but Tommy's oddly flavored fancy bottles always need an opener.

"Here," Tommy says, and Eddie turns just in time to catch the keys Tommy slings at him.

"I don't like your truck that much," Eddie tells him, which is a lie.

Tommy tips his head forward to indicate the keys. "Bottle opener, Diaz."

Which makes sense. He should get one for himself, actually. It's a little shocking neither one of them carries a utility knife on them. The preparedness rules maybe didn't stick after discharge as well as they could have

Tommy's gaze drifts, and Eddie watches his head tilt, ring and middle finger reaching up to tap at one of the pictures on the fridge. Chris and Buck, a few years back, some trip to the museum during either Buck or Chris' dinosaur phase. Buck's holding a giant stuffed pteranodon ("Pterodactyls were smaller and had cone-shaped teeth and backward-projecting crests, actually, and this isn't technically the most accurate depiction anyway, it's generally accepted they probably had feathers, now." -- So, definitely Buck's phase, now that he's remembering.) and Chris has a specific brand of smile across his face that Eddie has quietly dubbed his Buck-smile. Something around the edges of his eyes that's always just a little brighter for Buck.

"Cute picture," Tommy says, and Chris's eyes draw to it as Tommy taps his knuckles once-twice to it before dropping his hand to his side.

It's not the first time someone in this circle of three has brought up Buck.

The first night Tommy'd been here, camped out on the couch watching a game, Chris had had a million questions, and Buck had come up pretty naturally over the course of them comparing disasters they'd been a part of, or worked.

Chris had brought up the tsunami, which had led to a back and forth where they discovered Tommy had likely flown right over them at least once during that disaster of a day, and then it had evolved into Chris memorializing all of Buck's greatest (most traumatizing) hits - pinned under a fire engine, climbing a crane tower in the middle of a county wide panic about a shooter targeting firefighters (he doesn't bring up Eddie being shot, which - maybe they should revisit that at some point, make sure Chris isn't burying that), Buck getting struck by lightning, Buck taking charge in the bridge collapse.

And obviously, if Chris was gonna debate Star Wars, he was gonna bring up Buck's involved opinions on Machete order and OG vs Prequels vs the Somehow Palpatine Returned era, and be delighted that Tommy's opinion differed from Buck's, because that made Chris the victor in that ongoing battle.

Buck is a big part of Chris and Eddie's lives, so he's gonna be dropped into conversation. Nothing strange about that.

Tommy always calls him Evan, which is a big old dose of whiplash every time, and he can't think why he does that, because despite Buck introducing himself (weirdly) as Buh-Evan Buckley, they've seen each other since, and no one else Tommy talks to calls him Evan, so he doesn't know why Buck hasn't corrected him.

Chris' mouth does something strange as Tommy keeps looking at the picture, his expression going a little curious in a way Eddie can't quite parse, and then he's grinning. There's no reason to be suspicious, except for the way he actually puts down his phone to engage with Tommy as Eddie passes a beer off.

"Yeah, Buck always takes me to exhibits every time there's a new one. He's cool like that."

Tommy hums around his first sip, expression placid, posture relaxed. "Maybe I could take you to the next one."

Christopher's eyes narrow.

Eddie's lost.

"Uh, not without Buck. Carla took me once without him and he pretended to be fine about it for weeks until I asked him to take me again. He was not happy we went without him. But you could come with us."

Tommy tap-tap-taps his finger against the rim of his bottle, unfazed by the slightly territorial way Chris had phrased it. Eddie's fazed. Eddie is not sure there's not a second layer to this conversation he's missing. "I'll look it up. Jot it down in my day book."

Christopher is too young to have a clue what that means, but he doesn't seem to be quite done with whatever the hell it is he's got going on right now. "Good," he says. "Buck's single right now, so he's got a lot of extra time for stuff."

Tommy's gaze flits to Christopher's, and Eddie doesn't have a fucking clue what's going on, but it's a weighted look for half a second before Chris' gaze turns back to his phone.

"You have his number, right? Maybe you should call him and figure out a day we can all go."

Something happens around the corners of Tommy's mouth that he hides by tipping the bottle mouth against his lips again. "Yeah. I've got his number."

For a second Eddie wonders why, before he remembers catching Buck down at Harbor before the fight. When had Buck gotten his number?

"Cool," says Chris, eyes already glued back to his phone. "We usually get lunch first. Buck really likes pizza."

"Everyone likes pizza," Tommy says, eyes glimmering with mirth that Eddie absolutely does not know the source of.

"Yeah, but Buck's picky about it. He says there's a perfect pizza to crust ratio that most places don't get right. Also he likes it when they have a stone oven, and the little pizza risers."

Tommy rolls his tongue over his teeth. And - why is Eddie watching this interaction so carefully? It's not like he's worried Tommy's gonna say something weird to his kid, even if his kid is being weird.

"I'm gonna go throw the game on. You hungry?"

Tommy's eyes shift to meet his, and Eddie feels that same frisson of excitement he gets sometimes when Buck is paying close attention to him. "I could eat. Not pizza though. There's nowhere around here with a good stone oven."

"Dad likes pineapple on his pizza, his pizza opinions suck."

Eddie tosses his hands up. This is an old argument, one created entirely by Buck because Chris hadn't minded a good Canadian pizza before Buck declared war on them. "Pizza's just pizza. I was thinking Chinese, anyway."

"Can we get those spring rolls Buck always gets?"

Tommy's gaze slips to the fridge one more time, eyes drifting across the picture he'd pointed out earlier, before he unclips the menu for the Chinese place down the street from its spot half-covering the calendar to hand it off to Eddie. He spots the circle around their plans for Thursday and reaches out to touch the date.

"You invite anyone else for Thursday?"

Eddie rolls his top lip over his bottom one. "Buck hates basketball, turns me down every time I ask. I might ask Chim, though, he and his brother always liked to play."

Literally nothing in Tommy's expression changes, but Eddie feels like he's reacting to something in that sentence anyway. He's trying to figure out how to cut the weird tension in the room when Christopher starts listing off his order, and he's so distracted by trying to get a list prepared to call that he misses two thirds of Chris and Tommy's continued conversation, which is somehow, for some reason, still about Buck. Geez, is Chris pissed that Eddie's got a new friend? He should invite Buck next time he makes plans to hang out at home with Tommy.

----

"It was a date," Buck tells him, a week and a half later, while Eddie's staring at his phone like looking hard enough might make it, and his relationship with Marisol, maybe disappear. Just for a little while, while he squares things up with God.

Eddie tosses his phone, turns to look at Buck in the second before it computes, manages to pull back just enough so that it's not a full, ridiculous double take.

"When you and Marisol ran into me and Tommy, we were on a date."

"Really?" Buck usually tells him the second he's interested in someone, because for some reason he thinks Eddie has any idea how to have a loving, lasting relationship, even though Eddie's been lobbing live grenades straight at love since he was fourteen. He hadn't said a word to Eddie about -

Well.

Well actually --

Well shit.

Oh, he's definitely giving Tommy and Christopher both shit about this later.

"Wait, Tommy's gay?"

A whole host of things are suddenly lining up -- Buck at Harbor the afternoon before the fight, and Buck asking half a million questions after the fight, and Buck and Tommy both picking at the thread of Christopher's praises for the other, and -- Buck had been jealous. Buck had been jealous of Eddie spending time with Tommy. Buck had shoulder checked him to the court and sprained his ankle because he liked the guy enough to lose his head about it.

Oh, he's gonna hold this over all of their heads for sure.

Which for the moment is apparently not that great an idea because Tommy'd pressed pause after one date, which is fast even for Buck. He tells him so.

"When we ran into you guys I kinda made an idiot of myself and he said he doesn't think I'm ready." Buck looks -- sad. Disappointed. Nervous, hands rubbing at his thighs like he's soothing himself. It's a fair point, on Tommy's part, even if he doesn't know all the details.

(Something about hot chicks pings in the back of his mind, but he shelves it for later.)

Buck's never really hinted at romantic inclinations in that direction, although some of his comments about good looking guys are making a little more sense, in retrospect.

"What do you think?" Eddie's pretty sure he knows the answer to this question, but he asks anyway, because Buck likes to work these things out. He likes to talk about them. Eddie imagines not being able to articulate exactly what he was feeling without wondering if his friends would think it was weird probably (definitely) contributed to his wildly dramatic behavior the last few weeks.

Geez, Tia Pepa would be eating this telenovela shit up.

"I kinda can't stop thinking about him," Buck tells him, and it's a voice Eddie's not entirely sure he's ever heard from Buck before -- at least when he's talking about someone he's into. Buck's always got a checklist and a trillion rationalizations. Now he just sounds... smitten.

And Tommy is too, Eddie thinks. He is absolutely gonna call him out for pumping his kid for information. Maybe accuse him of only befriending him to get to Buck -- see if he can make the unflappable Tommy Kinard flap, a little.

"You should call him," Eddie tells him, already imagining double dates with a partner of Buck's he doesn't hope will spontaneously combust in the middle of dinner. Maybe between Tommy, Chris and Eddie they can finally convince Buck to go to one of the car shows he's always rolling his eyes at. Maybe Tommy and his terribly hidden romantic side can actually match Buck's crazy.

Eddie hugs Buck on his way out the door and feels the tension drain from his shoulders.

Maybe touched starved Buck will get to enjoy that little tactile quirk of Tommy's, too.

[thestrongestkikufuku]

a business proposal, p. 5

» part one, part two, part three, part four, part six - ⟡⋆˙

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ fluff, crack, angst, au, satoru gojo x f!reader, ceo!gojo, fake dating, curse word, reader going through some shit, gojo being soft, they're finally warming up to each other??? mmm slowburn, chaotic, unrequited love, reader pining for nanami

» word count - ⟡⋆˙ 5.2k

» notes - ⟡⋆˙ we're back at it again!! welcome, dear readers, to part 5 of the business proposal inspired series! :D it is currently 3 am as i write this. i actually just finished this part so it has been cooking for a whole day now >.< i chose to end this part a little happier instead, seeing how the previous parts end so intense and sad >.< and in case anyone is wondering, i'm aiming to have around 10 parts? probably? the business proposal series has a lot going on and it has proved to be quite challenging to write some of the stuff from the show into the fic, so i hope that y'all understand that there's a lot of things from the show that i haven't touched upon and chose not to write in order to not make this series too long T-T anyhow!! enough with my yapping, enjoy and happy reading! if you want to be added to the taglist please let me know (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

» m.list - ⟡⋆˙

A few days had gone by and the morning dawned with a knot of embarrassment and anxiety tightly wound in your chest. No matter how hard you tried, thoughts of Gojo refused to leave your mind. His presence lingered like a specter, reminding you of the awkward events from that specific night.

As you moved through your morning routine, the memory of Gojo’s intense reaction replayed in your mind. Why did he get so heated about the story involving the rain? What had happened to make him react so strongly?

With a frustrated groan, you tried to push these thoughts aside, hoping the busyness of work would distract you. But even after you arrived at the office and settled into your tasks, the questions continued to nag at you.

And no matter how hard you tried to focus on your work, his words echoed in your mind. “This relationship is nothing but a simple contractual exchange of money.” The sting of his harsh tone lingered, adding to the unease you felt.

As noon approached, you sought refuge in the cafeteria, hoping a quick lunch would clear your head. Lost in your thoughts, you navigated through the bustling crowd, barely aware of your surroundings. In a moment of distraction, you collided with someone, the force knocking your tray to the ground, food scattering everywhere.

“Oh no!” you gasped, a wave of panic sweeping over you as you realized the mess you had made. 

Looking up, your heart sank even further as you saw Satoru Gojo standing before you, his pristine attire now adorned with splatters of food. Panic surged through you as you kept your head low, scared out of your mind that he would notice you.

“I-I’m so sorry, oh god—” you stammered, hands shaking as you scrambled for napkins to clean up the disaster. The cafeteria seemed to hold its breath, all eyes trained on the unfolding scene between you and the CEO.

Gojo, for his part, remained surprisingly calm as he looked down slightly to assess the mess on his clothes. “Don’t worry about it.”

The cafeteria buzzed with quiet whispers as they watched the scene unfold. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and a moment of silence hung heavy between you.

“You…” He started softly, confusion etched on his features as he scrutinized you. “Have we met before?” His voice was calm and curious.

“No!” You blurted out, your heart hammering in your chest. Without thinking, you bowed deeply, a rush of embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You repeated, barely able to meet his gaze as you continued to clean up the spilled food with trembling hands.

Once you were done you hastily gathered the dirty napkins and practically fled from the scene, cheeks burning with humiliation. As you retreated, the image of Gojo’s shocked and amused expression burned into your mind, leaving you to wonder how long the memory of this embarrassing encounter would haunt you.

“Suguru,” Gojo turned to look at his friend with a quizzical look, “who was that?”

“Pretty sure she works in the marketing department based on her employee badge.” Suguru replied calmly.

“Did you catch her name?” Gojo inquired further, his interest piqued.

“Unfortunately, I did not, Satoru.”

Gojo’s gaze drifted back towards the direction you had hurriedly departed. His expression was thoughtful, as if he was trying to recall something. After a moment, he sighed softly and nodded. 

“Hm, alright then.”

—

As evening settled, you decided to clear your mind with a brisk walk around your neighborhood. You replayed the day’s events in your mind, the encounter with Gojo looming over you, making you cringe inwardly. Your phone buzzed, breaking your train of thought. A text from Gojo popped up on the screen.

Archaeopteryx: “My grandfather asked to meet you again. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. 12 p.m.”

The message brought a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. You paused mid-walk, glancing around at the familiar surroundings now tinged with the soft hues of twilight. The invitation to meet Gojo’s grandfather again was unexpected, yet not entirely surprising given the circumstances of your fabricated relationship.

You narrow your eyes slightly, noticing a familiar figure emerging from an apartment complex up ahead. It was Nanami, his presence eliciting a small smile from you. You hadn’t seen him since his last visit at the bakery, and a part of you felt a rush of warmth at the sight of him.

However, your smile faltered as you watched Nanami lean in to kiss a woman standing by the door. Hana. The realization hit you like a sudden gust of wind, chilling you to the core. They are back together. 

Shock and confusion washed over you, blending with a sharp pang of devastation. You stood frozen in place as Nanami and Hana exchanged affectionate gestures and laughter.

Hana’s voice interrupted your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “[name]! It's been a while!” She greeted you warmly as she and Nanami approached you, her arm linked around his.

“I-It’s good to see you too,” you replied, trying to maintain a natural demeanor despite the unease creeping into your thoughts. “How have you been? I hope your trip to Korea has been pleasant.”

A wide smile spreads across her face, “It’s been amazing, thank you! The food, the sights—everything’s been incredible,” she gushed, her enthusiasm almost infectious. “Oh, and thank you so much for the cake by the way, you always make them so delicious!” She beamed at you appreciatively, her words sincere despite the underlying tension you felt.

“It’s no problem. I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you replied softly, your gaze briefly flickering towards Nanami before returning to Hana. “I-I should get going, I have um.. Work tomorrow.”

As you bid them farewell, their cheerful chatter fading into the air, you resumed your walk home, the encounter leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. The familiar route back to your apartment seemed longer tonight, each step echoing in the quietness of the night. Thoughts raced through your mind, the unexpected sight of Nanami and Hana together reopening wounds you thought had healed. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as your movements came to a stop, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. Your hand instinctively covered your mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of seeing him with someone else was unbearable, a stark reminder of the unspoken feelings you had harbored for him.

The suffocating silence got cut off by the insistent ringing of your phone as Gojo’s contact name flashed on the screen. You hesitated, fingers trembling, debating whether to answer or not. But before you could make a decision, in your haste to cancel the call, you accidentally dropped the phone. The sound of it hitting the pavement was like the final crack in a dam holding back your emotions. Tears started rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably as you sank down to your knees, overwhelmed by a flood of heartache and loneliness.

Each tear that fell felt like a betrayal of your composure, a raw exposure of the love you could never voice. The ache in your chest was unbearable, a physical manifestation of all the suppressed longing and hope.

“I didn’t think it would hurt so much,” you murmured in between your sobs, your voice trembling with anguish, “god, it hurts so much.”

In that moment of profound vulnerability, with your heart and your pain laid bare, you felt utterly alone.

Unbeknownst to you, the call had connected, with Gojo on the other end, hearing every broken sobs and muffled cries. Gojo’s expression softened as he listened, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your raw devastation. He hesitated, uncertain of how to intervene or if he should intervene at all. The vulnerability in your voice tugged at something deep within him, a compassion he hadn’t expected to feel so strongly.

After a long moment of silence, Gojo sighed quietly to himself. And with a heavy heart, he made a difficult decision, hesitantly ending the call.

—

The morning arrived with the soft rays of the sun filtering through your curtains, casting a muted glow across the room. You stirred awake as the events of the previous evening flooded your mind once more. With a sigh, you pushed aside the lingering emotions, focusing instead on the day ahead. Gojo’s text about meeting his grandfather echoed in your thoughts, urging you to prepare despite the weight on your heart. Without hesitation you start your morning routine, moving through the motions of showering and dressing.

Once you were done you plop down in front of your vanity, hesitantly glancing at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the puffiness and redness around your eyes.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath, “Looks like I’ll need extra makeup today.” 

Without giving it much thought, you rummage through your makeup drawer, hoping to conceal the evidence of your intense crying. As you sift through the array of cosmetics, your fingers brush against something unexpected—a small, unassuming envelope nestled among the lipsticks and eyeliners. Your heart skips a beat as you recognize it instantly: the envelope Nanami had given you days ago, containing tickets to a concert.

You picked up the envelope with a mix of sadness and curiosity, turning it over in your hands. As you did, a rush of realization washed over you—the date of the concert was today. For a second the thought of inviting Gojo crossed your mind, but you dismissed it immediately, knowing he would likely decline.

“Forget it,” you murmured, slipping the envelope into your bag. “I could just ask Rin.”

A while later you stood outside, waiting for Gojo to arrive, dressed in your usual disguise—elegantly dressed with a long, styled wig that framed your face. The morning breeze played with the loose strands as you glanced through your phone absentmindedly. Your body stiffened once your gaze fell upon the recent call log with Gojo from last night. Confusion knitted your brows; you don’t recall making that call.

A flicker of panic surged through you as realization dawned.

“Oh, god. Did he hear that?!”

The thought made your chest tighten with anxiety, and you frantically scrolled through your phone, hoping there were no messages or voicemails left behind.

Just then, you spotted Gojo’s car approaching in the distance. With a deep breath, you composed yourself, tucking away your phone and putting on a polite smile as he drew near.

“Good morning,” he greeted surprisingly warmly, his eyes briefly scanning your appearance with approval. “You look lovely today.”

“T-Thank you.” You bowed quickly before getting inside the car.

As you settled into the passenger seat, silence enveloped you, the rhythm of the road beneath the wheels matched the tempo of your racing thoughts. Finally, unable to contain the question any longer, you turned slightly towards him, your voice tentative yet determined.

“Did... Did you call me yesterday?” You began, your words breaking the tense silence. “I-I had no idea, but I saw that I had a call with you last night.”

Gojo glanced at you briefly, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I did,” he replied gently, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road. “I called to talk about our plans for today. But I hung up because I couldn’t hear anything.”

Relief washed over you momentarily, grateful for his straightforward answer. “Oh, I see,” you murmured, your gaze drifting out the window. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

As you stared out the window, lost in thought, Gojo stole another glance at you, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He had heard more than just silence on the other end of the line last night—he had heard the vulnerability in your voice, the rawness of emotion that you hadn’t meant for him to witness.

Yet, he chose not to mention it. Instead, he focused on driving, his mind racing with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

—

“Ah, Miss Mei,” Gojo’s grandfather greeted warmly as you entered the grand mansion. “I’ve heard from Satoru that you have quite a fondness for steamed buns,” he continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he regarded you kindly.

A blush crept up your cheeks at the unexpected mention of such a trivial detail. “Oh, um, yes,” you replied with a small smile, grateful for the lighthearted turn in conversation. “I do enjoy them.”

“Well then, I must take you to a little place in Kamakura,” Gojo’s grandfather said with a genuine smile, “They make the most exquisite steamed buns you’ll ever taste. It’s a family favorite.”

“Grandfather, Kamakura is far away from here—”

“Hush, boy. I was talking to her.” He shot his grandson a sharp glare before turning to you with a warm smile, “now if you’ll excuse me.”

Gojo’s grandfather walked away to prepare himself for the trip, leaving you and Gojo momentarily alone.

“So,” you began tentatively, turning towards Gojo with a curious expression, “you remembered that?”

Gojo paused for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Oh, um,” he started, attempting to sound casual, “of course. You kept rambling about them during that one meeting.”

“I only mentioned it once during that meeting.”

Gojo’s usual composed demeanor faltered as you pointed out the discrepancy in his explanation. He paused, his gaze drifting away momentarily as he searched for the right words. But before he could explain himself further, the elderly man came back, interrupting the moment between you.

“Now, shall we go?”

—

As you stood outside the quaint restaurant in Kamakura that sold the renowned steamed buns, Gojo’s grandfather wasted no time in engaging the owner in a cheerful conversation. His enthusiasm was infectious as he exchanged pleasantries and shared anecdotes.

The bustling street around you hummed with activity, locals and tourists alike weaving through the narrow lanes lined with shops and stalls. You turned towards Gojo with a curious expression, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“We really went all the way to Kamakura for steamed buns?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Gojo chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “When my grandfather has a favorite, he’ll go to great lengths for it,” he replied with a small smirk, glancing over at his grandfather fondly. “And it’s not just about the steamed buns, it’s about the memories associated with this place.”

You looked at him, struck by the sincerity in his words. It was clear that this outing meant more to him than simply enjoying a local delicacy. Before you could respond, Gojo’s phone suddenly rang, interrupting the moment. He glanced at the screen briefly before excusing himself with an apologetic smile and stepping aside to take the call. You watched him go, feeling a pang of disappointment at the abrupt disruption.

Meanwhile, Gojo’s grandfather noticed the lull in conversation and turned his attention back to you. “Come, Miss Mei,” he beckoned warmly, gesturing towards the restaurant. “Let’s not keep the steamed buns waiting.”

With a nod, you followed him inside the cozy space, the aroma of freshly steamed buns enveloping you as you entered. The owner greeted you warmly, offering a selection of their finest buns. You thanked him graciously, choosing a few varieties to sample, eager to experience the flavors that had captivated Gojo’s family for generations.

As you savored the delicious steamed buns in the company of Gojo’s grandfather, a comfortable silence settled between you. After a while, he cleared his throat, his expression thoughtful.

“I must apologize, Miss Mei,” he began earnestly, his voice tinged with regret. “For the way I acted during our first meeting. It was... abrupt, and I realize now that I may have come across as imposing.”

You blinked in surprise at his unexpected apology, touched by his sincerity. “Oh, no,” you replied quickly, shaking your head. “It’s quite alright, really. I understand.”

“And I want to thank you.”

Surprised, you looked up from your food, meeting his warm gaze with curiosity. “Thank me?” you echoed, unsure of what he meant.

He nodded slowly, a small smile playing on his lips. “For making Satoru happy,” he explained sincerely. “I can see it, you know. He cares deeply for you. So please take good care of him.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his unexpected words, a warm and fluttery feeling stirring in your stomach. “O-Of course.” You replied softly, nodding in affirmation. 

As you glanced out the window at Gojo, with a gentle smile forming on your lips, you became momentarily distracted. Unbeknownst to you, your hand brushed against your bag, causing it to slip from your lap and tumble to the ground. The sudden crash startled you, and your heart skipped a beat as your belongings spilled out onto the floor.

Embarrassment washed over you as you hastily knelt down to gather your things, fingers trembling slightly as you reached for your scattered items. You managed to grab your phone and a few loose items, but as you hastily gathered them, your wallet that held your ID card slipped from your fingers and slid across the floor.

Before you could react, Gojo’s grandfather was already beside you, his movements swift yet gentle as he helped collect your belongings. His kind eyes met yours briefly, offering reassurance amidst your flustered state. In your haste, you snatched up your wallet, fearing he might catch a glimpse of your true identity. However, as he reached down to retrieve a stray item, his hand brushed against the envelope Nanami had given you earlier. His curiosity piqued, he picked it up and examined it briefly. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the tickets inside, neatly tucked away.

Gojo came in suddenly with a composed expression, his phone call apparently resolved. “Sorry to interrupt, but we should head back to Tokyo. I have some business to attend to.” He announced, his tone carrying a sense of urgency.

His grandfather, still holding the envelope with the concert tickets, frowned slightly. “Business to attend to?” he chided gently, his voice laced with a hint of disapproval. “You never seem to have time for the simpler things that Miss Mei can’t even ask you about things like this.”

Gojo’s eyes widened in confusion. “What did I—” he paused for a moment, knowing that arguing with the old man would be futile, “what are those?”

“They’re concert tickets.” The elder man responded in a matter-of-fact kind of tone, waving it in front of Gojo’s face, “seeing as how they’re for today, she must’ve bought them to go with you. Right, Miss Mei?”

Caught off guard, you blinked rapidly, trying to keep up with the unexpected turn of events. 

“Um, well, I...” you stammered, searching for words as Gojo's grandfather fixed you with an expectant look.

“What?” Gojo interjected, confusion etching on his features.

“Stupid, boy. We need to get going now!” His grandfather commanded, slapping the tickets into Gojo’s hand with a forceful gesture before he started making his way towards the car. “Come on, let’s go.”

—

You finally arrived at the concert venue, the bustling energy of the crowd filled the air with excitement. The driver pulled the car to a stop at the curb as the elderly man turned to face you both as you and Gojo stepped out of the vehicle.

“Have fun, you two,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Now, go!”

Gojo, ever the dutiful grandson, attempted to protest. “Grandfather, you really didn’t have to drop us off here. We could have—”

“Nonsense!” his grandfather interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. “You think I’m stupid, boy? If I hadn’t done this, you’d have found some excuse to sneak off to work.”

Gojo opened his mouth to retort but then closed it, realizing the truth in his grandfather’s words. 

“I want to see the two of you head inside.” His grandfather mused, waving his hand to urge you both along.

Gojo sighed, a hint of resignation spreading across his features. “Alright, alright.” He conceded, turning towards the concert entrance.

You quickly bowed to Gojo’s grandfather, a gesture of gratitude and respect. “Thank you, sir,” you said sincerely, before hurrying to catch up with Gojo. “Let’s just go in and then come back right out when he’s gone.” You whispered to Gojo, turning to take a quick glance back at the car.

To your surprise, the car was still there, parked at the curb. Gojo’s grandfather was watching you both intently, a knowing smile on his face. He waved his hands once more, urging you further inside.

Gojo glanced back as well and let out a small groan. “He’s not going to leave until he’s sure we’re staying,” he said, shaking his head. “Just give up.”

As you and Gojo made your way deeper into the venue, you could still feel the eyes of his grandfather on you, ensuring you followed through with the plan. Finally, you found your seats, settling in as the lights began to dim and the first notes of music filled the air.

Gojo leaned closer to you, his voice barely audible over the excited murmurs of the crowd. “Looks like we’re committed now,” he said, a rare and genuine smile spreading across his face.

You let out a small, nervous chuckle as you nodded to his words. 

As the concert progressed, the artist on the stage suddenly pauses between the songs, a bright smile spreading across their face. 

“Ladies and gentlemen,” they began, their voice amplified through the speakers, “tonight we have something very special planned. We’re going to take some song requests along with their special stories.”

The crowd murmured with excitement as the artist pulled out a small stack of papers from a box. “We’ve received so many wonderful stories, and I’m so thrilled to share one with you now,” the artist continued, unfolding a paper and beginning to read.

“I bought tickets for today’s show and gave them to a close friend of mine. We’ve been good friends for seven years now and she’s always been there for me through thick and thin, from consoling me with drinks when my girlfriend broke up with me to celebrating every small victory. She doesn’t have a boyfriend yet, but I’m hoping that she’ll find someone special soon and maybe attend the concert together. Please play her favorite song tonight; it means a lot to her.

And to top it off, she bakes the most incredible bread at her bakery, which I absolutely love getting from her.”

As the artist read aloud the heartfelt story from the paper, your heart sank. The words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with a painful familiarity. Nanami’s thoughtful gesture was unmistakable, and it was about you—his words echoing in your mind, reminding you of the unspoken feelings you harbored for him. 

A whirlwind of emotions swept through you—panic, sadness, and longing. You felt a lump form in your throat as the artist continued, mentioning details that only Nanami would know—your role in comforting him, your bakery, and your shared moments of support and friendship.

The artist suddenly announces the row and seat number associated with the story, the spotlights suddenly shining on you, confirming to everyone that the heartfelt story was about you. You glanced around nervously, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the midst of the crowd. Nanami’s face flashed in your mind, imagining his gentle smile as he wrote those words, oblivious to the depth of your feelings for him.

“You came with a gentleman today!” the artist beamed upon seeing you and Gojo together. 

“I-I— no he’s not—” you stammered, trying to protest, but the artist continued.

“I guess your friend’s wish came true! I’m sure he’ll be happy. Congratulations to his friend of seven years.”

As the song began to play, chosen especially for you, the music seemed to surround you with its bittersweet melody. You dared a quick glance at Gojo, who was watching you with concern, unaware of the turmoil within you. You wanted to disappear, to escape this moment of emotional reckoning that Nanami had unwittingly triggered.

Memories flooded your mind like a relentless wave. You couldn’t help but reminisce about all the times you had spent with Nanami—starting from high school when you first began harboring feelings for him. You remembered the moments of laughter, inside jokes that only the two of you understood, the way he listened intently to your rambles about your dreams and fears, the comfort of his presence during challenging times, the late-night conversations that lingered in your heart long after they had ended. Each memory stung with the ache of unrequited love.

The weight of Nanami’s gesture at the concert, his heartfelt words read aloud to the world, intensified the flood of emotions within you. Tears welled up in your eyes, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Gojo glanced at you from the corner of his eye. His expression remained outwardly composed, a mask of nonchalance that could barely conceal the worry that started to etch into his features.

Without a word, he subtly retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and extended it towards you. It was a small act, yet it conveyed his understanding of your emotional turmoil, showing you a depth of concern and compassion that spoke volumes. 

You slowly accepted the handkerchief with a grateful nod, dabbing at your tears as discreetly as you could manage.

Once the concert was done you found yourself walking with Gojo in the quiet streets of Tokyo, the lingering emotions from the evening weighed heavily on you. 

Gojo glanced at you quickly, his expression still composed but with a subtle shift of concern beginning to show. The silence stretched between you until he finally spoke, his voice soft against the backdrop of the city’s murmurs.

“Do you cry easily?” he asked, his tone gentle yet probing. “You bawled yesterday too.” He continued casually.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, realizing he had indeed heard you cry. Heat rose to your cheeks as the feeling of embarrassment washed through you.

“B-But you said you didn’t hear—”

“It seemed like you didn’t want me to know, so..”

The admission hung in the air between you as you walked on in silence once more, each step carrying the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions.

“Thank you… For today. For everything.” You began softly, “for pretending that you didn’t notice that I cried yesterday. And for coming to the concert with me, which I could’ve gone to all by myself.”

“Not only that,” Gojo started, taking a quick glance at you, “I almost looked like a really pitiful person when you cried like that at the concert.” 

“W-What?”

Gojo chuckled lightly. “I overheard someone saying that I was just a replacement for your friend.” 

Your heart sank at his words, guilt washing over you. “I-I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile. “Don’t apologize,” he said firmly, his tone gentle but firm. “I mean, it’s not like I’m your real boyfriend anyway.”

His words caught you off guard, a mix of relief and confusion washing over you. It’s true that he’s not your real boyfriend, but why did his words make you feel… Sad?

“I know.” You replied softly, averting your gaze from his.

“Did you have a crush on him for seven years?” He asked suddenly, his curiosity evident in his tone.

“Was it that obvious?” you replied with a wry smile, feeling a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of how transparent your feelings might have been.

Gojo chuckled softly, a sound that carried both amusement and sympathy. “Maybe a little,” he admitted, glancing at you with a knowing look. “Besides, anyone with eyes would’ve figured that out seeing how much you cried over his words.”

“Yeah, I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle.” You replied with a sheepish smile.

“Well, at least you got some closure, right?” Gojo said with a reassuring nod.

You nodded back, a small, hopeful smile forming on your lips. “Yeah, I’m just going to accept that I just got rejected,” you admitted with a light chuckle. “Besides, the friend of mine ended up getting back together with his ex-girlfriend.”

Gojo watched you silently, a contemplative look on his face as he processed your words.

“But I don’t regret it, though,” you said with a knowing smile, “I was really happy for those seven years.”

His expression softened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Someone like you who can’t tolerate wasting time, can’t understand that, right?” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully.

A small frown slowly spread across his face. “It’s not always that way.” 

“Hmm?”

“There are some things where you see results quickly,” He began, his voice taking on a serious note, “and others where you have to risk losses and stay committed for the long run. So, it’s hard to judge the value of something solely based on how much time it takes.”

You let out a small laugh, causing Gojo to turn to you with a surprised look on his face.

“That’s a weird way to comfort someone, you know?” you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. “It’s funny that you compare things to your job even in situations like this.”

Gojo scratched his head sheepishly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I’m not really used to comforting people.” He admitted with a wry smile. “I tend to approach things from a practical angle.”

“Don’t worry, it was comforting enough,” you reassured him sincerely, your laughter fading into a warm smile. “Thank you.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sounds of the evening around you, you felt a twinge of guilt nagging at you. Clearing your throat softly, you turned slightly towards Gojo.

“Um, Gojo, I wanted to apologize,” you began hesitantly, “for telling that story to your grandfather during the dinner. I was feeling a bit down so I overdid things a bit so it wouldn’t be obvious… I think that’s why I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

Gojo looked at you with surprise, his expression softening. “It’s okay,” he responded gently, shaking his head slightly. “I should apologize too. I was being a bit too sensitive about it.”

As the night deepened and the streets grew quieter around you, Gojo slowed his pace until the two of you came to a gentle stop beneath a canopy of trees. A comfortable silence enveloped you, allowing the cold breeze of the evening to soothe the edges of today’s emotions.

You stole a glance at Gojo, noticing the mix of contemplation and calm in his expression as he gazed thoughtfully into the distance. His features, illuminated by the gentle glow of the street lamps and moonlight, appeared serene yet striking. In that quiet moment, you couldn’t help but admire him— how he looked, the way he stood close to you, it all stirred emotions you couldn’t quite explain.

Quickly pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you turned your attention to the surroundings, taking in the serene atmosphere of the neighborhood.

“Where are we right now?” You asked softly, breaking the silence with a gentle inquiry. 

“I don’t know,” Gojo’s eyebrows quirked up at your question, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I was just following you.”

“But I was following you.”

» taglist - ⟡⋆˙ @megumisthirdog, @inluvkai, @ieathairs, @roscpctals99, @laviefantasie, @snwvie, @sanriosatoru,@cc1306, @pinkprincessglitterzombie, @keaugh, @eolivy, @peachesnoranges, @indicatom, @jayhyunglover, @lunasolac

[shaunamilfman]

after midnight

pairing: jackieshauna x reader

summary: You get a little too drunk at a party and end up kissing Jackie Taylor, who you mistook for someone else. Just to make sure that Shauna isn't too mad at you, you kiss her too.

note: yeah, based off that twitter post.

You focus all of your attention on the ceiling fan, watching as the blades blur together in an endless loop. You’re strangely mesmerized by the action, letting yourself be drawn into it in the hopes it’ll distract you from your pounding headache or the anxious feeling in your chest. The sound of Nat clattering around in the kitchen breaks your concentration, slowly drawing your attention back to reality.

With a pained groan, you finally drag yourself out of bed, stumbling to your bathroom knowing that at least one of the things bothering you had a simple solution. You blindly reach into the medicine cabinet, briefly glancing at the bottle before dry swallowing the pills that will be your salvation from your headache. 

You lean against the sink with a sigh of relief, looking at yourself in the mirror before quickly looking away. God, you looked like shit. 

A sudden realization dawns on you, a sinking feeling filling your stomach as you slowly look back at your reflection. You turn your head to the side, your eyes widening as you catch sight of the unmistakable traces of lipstick along your neck.

You fumble around for a rag, drawing Nat’s attention from the kitchen as you knock a few bottles off the counter.

“Hey?” she calls out, unaware of your turmoil as you scrub at your neck to get the mark off.

“Hey,” you answer, hesitant and unsure as you take one last look in the mirror before joining her in the kitchen.

She grins as she catches sight of you, a quick flick of her eyes up and down your disheveled form before she slides a cup of coffee across the counter towards you without a word. You’re quick to grab it, almost downing it in your haste to get something, anything, in your stomach. 

The memory of last night hangs over you like a fog, each moment shrouded in uncertainty and a lingering feeling that you’d fucked something up. If only you could remember it. You’d woken up with a bitter taste on your tongue, serving as a stark reminder of your excess from the night before. You knew better than to drink like that, knew it always got you in trouble, but you figured you just needed a little courage and then… 

Then everything fell apart.

You were surprised to find yourself still in one piece this morning, so you supposed it hadn’t been a complete disaster. The text you had woken up to did a lot to assuage your nerves, but it was the lipstick stain on your neck that had you sure that the night had actually gone well. You weren’t quite sure how you pulled it off, but you quickly decided a win was a win. 

Now your problem was just piecing together how the night ended.

“So?” Nat prompts, drawing your attention as you warm your hands on the quickly cooling cup. “How did it go?”

“Funny you ask that, actually,” you begin, the words tumbling out in a rush as you brace yourself for her reaction.

Nat groans, propping her head up on her hands as she looks you over. “What's that mean?” She sounds interested despite herself. 

“So I may or may not be dating Jackie and Shauna now.”

She's quiet for a long moment, her jaw dropped as she processes the news. “What the fuck? How?” she finally manages to sputter, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“So I got, like, really drunk last night–” 

“I remember,” Nat says wryly. 

“Right. Well, you know how me and that girl from my math class have had this thing going on–” 

“I'm not seeing what this has to do with Jackie and Shauna.”

“If you would just let me finish…”

…

You finish what's left in your cup before leaving it on the table, looking around for her familiar jacket before you find her. 

Bingo. You spot her off further in, her denim jacket and blonde hair catching the dim light. It seemed a little darker than usual, honestly, but you figured it was just the light. You take a deep breath and try to steady your shaking hands before just stuffing them in your pockets. Now or never.

This wasn’t the most well thought out idea, you knew that, but it was definitely the best one you had. Toss a few drinks back and get enough courage to finally kiss Jenny from your math class. Easy enough in theory, right? She told you to come find her at the party, practically insisted on it really, but you were still so fucking nervous at the thought of it. The thought of her smile, and the way she always looked at you in class, gave you just enough courage to push through the crowd to find her.

You call out her name as you weave through throngs of partygoers, but the music plays so loud you’re not sure if she can even hear you or not. As you reach her, you take a deep breath before putting your hand on her shoulder and spinning her around. Was she a little shorter than usual? Whatever. Before you can second guess yourself, you lean forward and kiss her.

She makes a squeaking noise as you do, her hands slapping against your shoulders as she pushes you away. You stumble backward and nearly fall on your ass, a little offended as you look at her. 

Jackie stares up at you with smeared lipstick and wide-eyes as the gravity of the situation slowly dawns on you. Oh God, that was Jackie Taylor. You just kissed Jackie Taylor and Shauna Shipman was going to kill you. You were too young to die.

That definitely wasn’t Jenny. You’d definitely had one too many if you thought that Jackie looked anything like the girl from your math class.

“What the fuck?” Shauna spits, her jaw clenched and her hands balled up in a fist. She grabs a fist full of your shirt, pulling you towards her as she gets up in your face. You can smell the alcohol on her breath as she gets near, a mix of malibu and rage.

You try to stutter out an apology, but the words keep catching in your throat. It feels like your tongue just won’t cooperate with you, leaving you defenseless in your time of need. Her grip on your shirt tightens, her knuckles turning white as she gives you the meanest look you’ve ever seen another person make that wasn’t a TV serial killer.

“Shauna–” Jackie tries, stepping forward and putting a hand on her arm, but Shauna’s too mad to even entertain her.

“Did you seriously just do that in front of me?” Shauna’s so mad she can barely speak, the disbelief on her face saying more than words ever could. Her eyes are so intense, a fire burning behind them that makes you wish you could disappear.

“You’re unbelievable.” Shauna’s voice is low and dangerous, and you can feel the heat of her anger radiating off her. You can’t think of any way to get out of this situation without getting burned.

Unless…

You make a split second decision as you lunge forward at Shauna. This was a fucking disaster, but man would you have one hell of a story if you could live to tell it.

… 

“... and that's when I realized that I just kissed Jackie Taylor.”

“Holy shit, dude!” Nat laughs, her expression an equal mix of pride and amusement. 

“God. I know,” you groan, burying your head in your hands as you flush in embarrassment. 

“So what happened next?”

“So Shauna's got a fistful of my shirt, right? I'm realizing that, holy shit, she's about to beat my ass. So I do the only thing I can do.”

“What's that?

“Well…” 

… 

You lunge forward and kiss Shauna too, catching her by surprise. She’s frozen solid as you press your lips together, and for an instant you think she’s just going to punch you anyway. Shauna’s hand releases your shirt in surprise, her hands flailing for a moment before reaching up and resting on the side of your head. 

You’d read in a Wikipedia article once during a time of late-night procrastinating that it was virtually impossible for a human to snap someone else’s neck, but if anyone was capable of that, it would definitely be Shauna Shipman. Much to your surprise, you don’t end up dead on the floor; instead, her surprisingly soft hands cup your face with more gentleness than you thought she was capable of.

It’s nothing like the quick kiss you’d shared with Jackie; she’s aggressive and intense. Every movement is met with a swift reaction, as if she takes it as a challenge. Her lips are soft and taste like strawberry lip-gloss and you idly wonder whether it belonged to her or Jackie originally.

She bites at your lip hard as the kiss ends, enough that you’re sure she’s broken the skin. You can feel the sting of it long after she’s backed away, sharing a look with Jackie that you’re too much in shock to pay attention to. You’re left reeling, trying to process the rapid turn of events even though you’d been mostly responsible for them.

You manage to sneak a glance at Shauna, figuring that at least you would see it coming when she inevitably broke your nose. She gives you a dark look, and it’s hard to tell whether she’s flustered or angry.

“Shauna,” Jackie chides. “You don’t have to be so rough with her. She’s not going anywhere.” 

Shauna’s tense posture relaxes slightly at Jackie’s words, but not fully. They seem to have a conversation with nothing but their expressions, something that you weren’t fully privy to. 

Without a word spoken to you, Jackie steps forward and kisses you again. It’s better this time, more deliberate than the quick peck you’d managed before. It felt reassuring, a tenderness that your kiss with Shauna was sorely lacking. Her arms come up to rest behind your shoulders, pulling you chest-to-chest as she kisses you so gently you almost want to cry.

You can practically feel the weight of Shauna’s eyes on you, but it doesn’t seem nearly as heavy as it did before: less threatening, and more curiosity. Her gaze is unwavering as she assesses the situation, stepping closer toward you and leaving you caught between the two of them as your mind races.

Jackie breaks the kiss slowly, giggling as she has to press a hand against your shoulder to stop you from trying to chase after her. She’s close enough that your breath is mingling together, pulling just far away enough to speak as she gives Shauna a knowing look. “See? It doesn’t have to be a fight every time.”

“She’s okay, isn’t she?” Shauna asks, the question posed more as a challenge than any real attempt at concern. Her eyes search yours, trying to find out what you’re thinking without having to actually ask. You nod slightly, giving her the permission she seems to seek. She’s just as formidable as ever, but this time her approach is slower. More deliberate.

“Yeah,” you mutter simply, nodding dumbly as Jackie tuts and pulls your attention back on her with a single finger on your chin.

Shauna huffs, finally closing the distance between you as she presses up against your back. “Good,” she whispers, her lips brushing your ear as she speaks.

Jackie rests her hand behind your neck as she pulls you into another kiss, somehow more demanding than the last. You can’t help but melt into it, immediately responding to the touch. Shauna laughs softly behind you, pressing a kiss against Jackie’s fingers before she finds her way to the side of your neck.

The two of them together are intense, overwhelming in a way that leaves you utterly breathless and lagging a half-second behind. It’s almost too much, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away for anything.

Shauna bites down gently, just enough to leave a mark. You gasp, the sound swallowed by Jackie’s lips. 

“Relax,” Jackie murmurs.

Then everything after that is a blur.

… 

“... I kissed Shauna too.”

Nat laughs so hard she nearly falls out of her chair. She manages to get out a few words in between peels of near hysterical laughter. “You kissed Shauna? Are you insane?” 

“Honestly, probably. I certainly felt like it at the time, Nat. But here’s the crazy part: she freezes, and for a second it’s like time stops, but then she kisses me back!”

“No fucking way Shauna Shipman kissed you.”

“Look, I know! That’s what I was thinking too,” You snicker, shaking your head. “So there I am, kissing Shauna and waiting for her to come to my senses with Jackie’s lipstick still on my lips. But then I pull back and see Jackie standing there just staring with this look of… I don’t know, I can’t even name it.”

“And?”

“So, Jackie says something to Shauna that I couldn’t quite make out and they just kind of nodded and before I knew it, Jackie was all over me too.”

Nat’s jaw drops as she leans forward to look at you. “Jackie too?”

“Jackie too,” you confirm. “Yeah, but it gets weirder. See, Jackie pulls away to look at Shauna again and there’s this moment where I’m like ‘Well, now they’re going to kill me together.’ But then they both just kind of smile at me?”

Nat breathes out slowly, eyes wide with shock. “What does that even mean?”

“I have no idea. I know something must have happened after that, but it’s all blurry after that. All the booze caught up to me.”

“What makes you think you’re dating them, then? It seems like you just got a lucky break that Shauna wasn’t close enough to a knife to stab your dumb ass.”

“See, that’s what I would think to,” you say, pulling out your phone as you scroll through your messages. “But I woke up this morning to a text in a group chat all like ‘hope you get home safe, babe.’” 

You hold the phone up for Nat to see, and she quickly snatches it from you as she looks through it. Her eyes scan the screen, her disbelief slowly turning into astonishment.

“Holy shit,” she mutters, slowly scrolling through the chat. “They both texted you. Jackie even sent you a selfie of her and Shauna together with a ‘we missed you at breakfast’ caption.”

“What?” You ask, leaning forward to read over Nat’s shoulder. That one was new– you must’ve gotten it while you were talking to Nat.

“I don’t even remember leaving?” You mutter.

“This is unreal,” Nat says, handing you your phone back as she lazes back in the chair. “You better figure your shit out before Jackie gets her feelings hurt.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “No kidding.”

You bite your lip before quietly admitting, “I kind of like it.”

Nat snorts, shaking her head slowly.

[ushiwakatrash]

The Bakusquad as Roommates

A/N: Hey babes, it's been a while! I've been so busy will college so I really couldn't write. But, yeah, I'm (kinda) back <3333

!Warning!: smoking (weed too)

According to the new rules, UA has decided to place two people per room.

(This deviates from the original plot line)

See the Dekusquad version here.

Bakugou Katsuki 爆豪 勝己

Did not like the thought of sharing his space with someone random but as per UA's orders, what choice did he have?

Very clean and very strict about house rules

Will constantly nag about how you can't do chores right

Your first weeks were a disaster. He was so scary and so intimidating, you thought he was the concentrated essence of evil

He's blunt and mean, but you figure out he just has a hard time expressing himself

One morning, he cooked breakfast for you but went with lame excuses like "I accidentally cooked too much." or "You look dead so fuckin' eat!"

Since then you went along with his shitty excuses and used them when giving him dinner

"Bakugou, you can have this 'cause I don't feel like eating anymore." or "They looked good so I bought twice as much for, uh, no reason at all."

Seeing your efforts in trying to be a good roomie, he warmed up to you eventually

Now y'all just argue like an old couple

Kirishima Eijirou 切島 鋭児郎

Looks tough, but he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

A literal angel

Day 1: friends

Day 2: besties

Day 3: you would take a bullet for him

He’s kinda messy and his punching bag takes a lot of space but hey, no one’s perfect

He always waits for you before he eats, and always saves you a plate when you’re running late because of extra training

You seek each other for comfort. Especially when Kiri feels insecure about how his quirk isn’t flashy or how he thinks it won’t make him a top hero one day

You, of course, would never want or let him think that way. It will never be a chore to remind him how he’s so strong and sturdy and how his muscles are hot

You know how much potential he has so if you have to repeat it a thousand times again and again, so be it

MUST PROTECT THIS CINNAMON ROLL

Kaminari Denki 上鳴電気

Had the idea of the old ‘bucket of water on top of the door’ prank as a big welcome to his roomie

What he didn’t calculate is that you have very sharp and fast reflexes.

Before the bucket falls on you, you hit it and the water splashes on Denki

Both of you were stunned at first but you recovered quickly and said “feeling cold, sparky?” with such a smug smirk

His face instantly got red and he stormed out of the room with comical tears shouting ‘MEANIE!!’

An hour later he returns, 2 popsicles in his hands. He hands you one as an apology and both of you reconcile, even if it’s his entire fault

You both get in trouble for blasting heavy metal at 3 in the morning MULTIPLE TIMES

The two of you made an agreement to do this ritual with headphones on because Mr. Aizawa had threatened to make you switch rooms

Sero Hanta 瀬呂範太

Ah, the potheads unite

It was a secret that you tried to keep under wraps since but the your roomie figured you out instantly

At first you both just shared vapes, trying out different flavors the both of you would buy

until you saw a bag in the bathroom that had an oh so familiar scent

You confronted Sero about it but he just gave you a 'what's the big deal' look so you shrugged it off

a few nights later he invited you for a session and you obliged, only if he kept it hush

this has been a routine since you could remember and Aizawa has never suspected you. I don't know about Mr. tape man though.

Ashido Mina 芦戸 三奈

There was no adjustment period for the both of you whatsoever

You both became instant besties and shared EVERYTHING

from skincare to clothes to maybe thongs at times but hey, girls do that shit

As if being roommates wasn't enough, you still hung out after class hours

Mina has been your greatest support system especially with boy trouble

Break a man's heart and she's as proud as any mother could be

Your heart is broken? A tub of ice cream and shitty movies are ready for you

She loves you like her own sister and constantly worries for you

Honestly the best roomie in town

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hiii I know you’ve talked about Lilia and Silver’s relationship before but how about Lilia and Malleus’s? He’s one of Lilia’s “sons” too, the first! I’d like to hear how you see their father-son relationship.

cbjsbsjwjskdn So strange!! I feel like I haven’t really talked much about Lilia and Malleus’s father-son relationship even though I’m such a sucker for family-related drama… Well, now is as good of a time as any!

***Please note: there are spoilers for 7-68+ in the main story; if you are comfortable with late book 7 spoilers, then please proceed with reading below the cut!***

Book 7 has made it pretty evident that Malleus thinks the world of Lilia and is willing to go to great lengths to protect him. Their bond is something that has been alluded to many times over prior to this point though!

Malleus has mentioned that Lilia trained him when he was younger. He did have formal tutors, but it was Lilia who instilled survival skills in him and taught him lessons unable to be learned through just a textbook. We get to observe one such scene via a flashback, which shows the aftermath of one of Malleus’s fits. The castle and various staff members were encased in ice, and along comes Lilia to fix things. He offers Malleus a bowl of shaved ice and invites him to eat with everyone (as the cause for his anger in the first place had been that his grandmother was busy with her duties and could no longer make time to each with him as promised). Lilia reminds Malleus that someone like him has great powers, so he has to wield it responsibly—otherwise he could have lost many of the people he is now sharing this snack with. (This is a very valid lesson since Malleus was capable of magic—and thus harming others—right out of the eggshell; he once singed Lilia’s hair with his flames.)

Malleus reports that Lilia has cut his hair for him (despite Malleus probably being able to go to a formal expert or the court’s hairdresser). Lilia has also sung to him at night and even taught Malleus how to play instruments.

It’s not clear to what extent Lilia was involved in his liege’s life, because even though he is established as a caretaker to Malleus, it was also revealed that Lilia was apparently banished from the capital city so they’d have to arrange to meet elsewhere. It’s known that Malleus would sometimes visit Lilia and baby Silver in their forest cottage, but again the frequency of these visits is unknown (Did he, like his headstrong mother, sneak out against the wishes of the senators?) I’d imagine that Malleus is kept fairly busy with studies to prepare him to ascend to the throne, but from the way Lilia describes raising Malleus, it sounds like he was with him quite frequently: “I always know exactly where he is. After all, I have been watching him since he was brushing eggshell off of his head.”

To this day, Lilia serves a similar guiding role, often acting as the facilitator between Malleus and his peers, as well as continuing to be a mentor to him. Malleus maintains his standoffish and difficult to approach aura at NRC, so it is Lilia who encourages him to engage with his peers. He delivers a holiday card to Malleus’s new friend who has taken up residence in Ramshackle. He invites Malleus as his plus one to Silk City in A Firelit Sky, wishing for him to see more of the world—even when disaster strikes and Lilia cannot accompany him. He extols the virtues of understanding and bonding with other races both in the main story (book 6) and in vignettes (Malleus’s Dorm Uniform). He gives Malleus a formal invitation to his farewell party (like, envelope and all!), because he knows just how much that would mean to him. Lilia has seen how a country looks when it has been ravaged by war and hate. He knows how a heart can grow bitter and resentful if left to fester in isolation. So he works his ass off to try and ensure that Malleus, the future of his country, can lead it to an era of peace and love that Lilia only got to experience with the passage of time. It could also be said that Lilia places a big emphasis on Malleus as their “future” since Lilia already suffered the loss of two close friends, Malleus’s parents.

Lilia seems to think of Malleus as a capable leader and one of great character, though perhaps marked with inexperience and a lack of worldly knowledge (which is why he pushes for Malleus to go out of his comfort zone). Most notably, he tells Leona in book 2: “[… ] with that sensitive ego of yours? That so quickly directs all your petty anger at your retainers... Well, the idea of you ever contending with a REAL king like our Malleus—is absolutely laughable. Even if you COULD defeat Malleus, so long as that's how you choose to conduct yourself? You would never be fit to rule!”

At times, Lilia has the habit of treating Malleus like a child. Something he does a lot is reassure his prince that it is okay to feel a certain way (usually frustrated or angry) and that Malleus is not capable of hiding the truth from his keen eyes. Lilia usually encourages Malleus to be more honest with his emotions and to take the chance to act like the child he is and enjoy his school life. Malleus tends to not take to the former very well, reminding Lilia that he is not a child and that he understands the circumstances. Despite these claims, he to hold Lilia in high regard and trusts him a great deal. Lilia currently occupies his vice dorm leader seat, which is implied to be handpicked by the dorm leader. Furthermore, Malleus trusts Lilia to fulfill the dorm leader duties that he is not capable of or able to, as we see Lilia attending dorm leader meetings and leading the Diasomnia freshmen during orientation.

Lilia is a more lax than Sebek and Silver when it comes to monitoring Malleus. He is of the belief that their prince needs his own independence and to experience life without people constantly breathing down his neck. Malleus, as we know, enjoys solitude like his midnight strolls throughout campus. In Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes, he also discusses the freedom of going out in public without an encourage accompanying him. Lilia is able to easily read and understand Malleus’s feelings in this regard (though he is good at reading all of the Diasomnia boys).

Malleus still cherishes the virtual pet that Lilia gifted him years ago. He takes care of it diligently, even though he is constantly faced with the cycle of Gao-Gao Dragon-kun/Roaring Draco growing up and leaving the nest. According to Malleus’s Labwear vignettes, he considers the virtual pet one of his most important treasures.

The two are able to pal around with each other despite holding the other in such high regard. When Malleus and Lilia are placed on opposite teams for Beans Day, they find fun in roughhousing and relish in the challenge (not really paying attention to the fact that their sheer power and speed is on a whole different level than that of the other students). They also served as co-conspirators in Endless Halloween Night, something which upset the other students and they both apologized for. Mischief isn’t entirely off the plate for this duo!

Malleus grew up without his parents (and his grandmother often kept away by her royal duties), so it’s possible that he latched onto Lilia as a parental figure. He is shown to be protective of Lilia both in vignettes and in the main story. For example, in Lilia’s PE Uniform vignette, Rook is chatting with Lilia and indicates that he is interested in Lilia as his hunting quarry—but Malleus throws the ball meant for long throwing at Rook, just narrowly missing his nose. “Perhaps he suspected that you were picking on little old me,” Lilia suggests. However, the example I’m sure we’re all familiar with of Malleus being protective of Lilia is book 7… when he decides it would be better you force everyone to have happy dreams instead of accepting a reality that changes and forces you to say good-bye to your loved ones. Malleus explicitly states that he is taking these actions so he “doesn’t lose [Lilia]”. Indeed, it is Lilia deciding to drop out of NRC and retire to the Land of Crimson Long that was the impetus for Malleus’s blot to kick into overdrive. When Lilia “wakes” from the dream, Malleus is eager to keep him in it. He offers to come up with a new dream, desperate and intent on keeping Lilia trapped there.

Malleus holds a lot of weight for Lilia too. When Lilia is pulled into a dream world fastened by Malleus’s magic to guarantee a “happy ending”, Lilia dreams of… an era of war? At first, Silver and co. find this to be strange because war isn’t something you tend to associate with happiness. It’s not until far later that Silver realizes what the real “happiest moment in [his father’s] life” is: the moment of Malleus finally hatching from his egg. Previously, Malleus had been very picky and rejecting the magic offered to him by others, even his own grandmother. This led to a dire situation where he was at risk of dying in his shell, as a dragon’s egg needs infusions of love and magic in order to be viable. In offering up much of himself—including a chunk of his own lifespan—Lilia helped Malleus hatch. To Lilia, this was his happiest—not because he “loves” Malleus more than Silver, but because Malleus hatching as a result of Lilia’s magic is affirming to Lilia that he is capable of parental love. This was a concern he communicated to Meleanor before she parted from this world, that he wasn’t sure he could look after Malleus in her stead because he’s an orphan and has never experienced what it is like to be loved… so he can’t have the capacity to love either. Meleanor reassures him though! If Lilia can love her and Raverne, then surely he can also bring himself to love their child. All these years, Lilia has never thought himself capable of “true love”—not even when he finds an infant Silver later, abandoned in a briar covered castle. But in that moment, when Malleus hatched, a miracle happened, and that miracle was the result of Lilia’s love.

This brings me to one final point about Lilia and Malleus’s relationship: how self-sacrificial Lilia is. Lilia hides a LOT of information from his loved ones, including Silver and Sebek, and instead chooses to accept the emotional burden of knowing himself. He does it with good intention, not wanting his children to be hurt by the scars of the past, but in a way that closes the boys off from fully understanding where they come from and Lilia’s own emotions. This is behavior that continues into present day, including Lilia being in a rush to leave to spare his boys the pain of a prolonged farewell. (I talk more about this aspect of Lilia’s character here, so I would advise reading that if you are interested in this topic.)

To conclude, Malleus and Lilia both highly respect and care for one another. Their bond is a strong one, and that’s perhaps why Malleus is so determined to cling to it—Lilia is one of the few intimate and meaningful connections he has.

[h-yellowfell]

Intermission

Wanted to draw some doodles of the @desertsanctuary-blog au but fell flavored! it's a really interesting au that i think about a lot

Some toughts about what changes:

Clover: They have ran out of the drive they had as a kid ages ago, constant attacks on the desert makes so they get very little rest, Flowey is pretty much permanently attached to their arm, serving as a personal guard and closest friend

Clover just wants this conflict to be over, their inital anger fizzled out over time, however as Asgore seems determined to not let this pass by peacefully Clover has no choice but to fight back

Flowey: He was not very...keen into Clover's idea at first, but seeing no other option he decided to trust them. Flowey got more and more attached to Clover as the dangers seemed to grow every day, now rarely (if ever) letting go of them, even using his vines to move Clover around when their exhaustion gets too much

Starlo: OH Starlo, way too into this development, his role of leader was never taken, with a grudge against Asogre and no complaints about letting his anger out in...less than peaceful ways, Starlo found his calling, but Ceroba is always keeping an eye on him to avoid any disaster

Ceroba: Oficial peace maker, the one sane person in this damn family she is making sure Clover dosen't overwork to death and that Starlo dosen't kill anyone he's not supposed to. Perhaps the only person with enough patience to deal with Asgore during meetings, but even she has her limits

This is just a fun "what if" scenario thats obviously not canon to Yellowfell, but i hope you all still liked my ramblings (and a sneak peak into grown up Clover) we now resume the usual posting schedule!

i have so much shit to draw oh dear...

[salmonball]

— [♡] ; Wish You Were Sober

FWB! Gojo x Reader

You and Satoru weren't interested in relationships. After a change in your dynamic, you start to question that.

includes: afab!reader, drinking, smoking, swearing, sfw content, hurt/comfort

wc: 5.4k

(a/n: the guy I wrote this about is in rehab and wants to reconnect and all of it is bringing back memories. so cope with me <3)

Satoru was attractive, to say the least. He just couldn't help it and on top of the confidence dripping from him, he was a hot topic. He had lines of girls out the door begging for a chance with him. But that wasn't something he was interested in, as a noncommittal person. Something you both had in common.

Your friend group had decided at the end of last semester to share rent for an apartment. This included you, Suguru, Satoru, and Ieiri. It was a nice setup, and although the guys sometimes forgot to clean up after themselves, you all coincided well. Suguru was a nice makeshift therapist, and Ieiri would bond with you over sharing hair ties and disaster date stories.

You were closest with Satoru, though. You guys had spent the majority of your friendship having endless late-night conversations and teasing each other any time you could. When you all moved in, despite having his own room, he frequently came to hang out and sleep over. You never thought anything of it, finding his womanizer persona, frankly, irritating. And you loved how open and real your friendship was. No way you'd ever allow yourself to fall victim to him.

Until that night. You and Ieiri had decided to pregame too hard before the four of you went to a party, so by the time you arrived you were barely processing anything around you. Despite this, you had a solo cup in your hand as you danced in the middle of the sticky basement. You knew Ieiri was next to you chatting up some guy, Suguru had left to smoke upstairs, and Satoru... Where was he? Probably finding his conquest for the night.

To compensate for the noise complaints you guys had given him, he'd been going to the dorms of the girls he fucked instead of bringing them home. Which you were thankful for since your rooms were right next to each other, with Ieiri and Suguru's across. Sometimes you wondered if the girls were faking it to be that loud, but you really didn't wanna ask for details.

Cringing at the thought, you quickly down your cup and interrupt Ieiri's conversation to ask if she wanted another drink. She smiles at you, yelling a "yeah, thanks" before you start moving through the crowd to grab them from the frat bartender. As it comes into view, you notice Satoru leaning against the counter, talking animatedly with a girl. You know best not to get in between that, opting to casually talk with the bartender while he makes your jungle juice.

Despite trying to be subtle about your presence, Satoru notices you and sends a blinding smile your way. He quickly excuses himself from the girl to come your way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You shake him off with a scrunched nose, not in the mood to feel his sweaty body against yours.

"Hey Y/N/N, you sure you should have that?" He asks, nodding to the cups being handed to you, his speech a bit slurred. "Don't want you to black out, now."

"I'm good, Toru. Go back to what you were doing," you say, flashing a smile at the bartender before moving to head back to Ieiri. You weren't sure you were convincing him or yourself.

"So mean," Satoru pouts at you jokingly. "But fine. I'll keep an eye on you, though."

You roll your eyes, attempting to flip him off. This gets some of your drink on you and you huff, stalking off.

Turns out, he was right to be worried. You're attempting to dance but your head keeps hurting, causing you to stumble into the people around you. Ieiri doesn't seem to notice, not that you'd want to bother her. It seems like her conversation with that guy was going well and you know she's been on a dry spell. You decide to get her attention briefly by gesturing over the guy's shoulder and she nods in acknowledgement.

You nod back, making your way outside to get some fresh air and possibly throw up. You clumsily manage to sit on the porch around some other drunkards, taking in the sight in front of you. The people who were leaving didn't seem in any better state than you and that makes you smile a bit. Someone next to you nudges you, offering their vape to you.

"Looks like you need it," the guy offering gives you a once over.

Wow, what a compliment. You begrudgingly grab it, taking a hit before handing it back. That's when you realize it was banana something something coffee cake extravaganza and the taste is so putrid you actually gag.

"Dude," you manage to cough out. "Get a new fucking flavor."

He laughs, patting your back comfortingly. "You're not the first person—"

"Y/N/N," you look up and see Satoru towering over you. He almost looks relieved to see you, you think. You can't tell anymore. "Hey, you okay? Do you need to go home?"

"I'm good," you say between pants. "I'm so chillin' right now."

"Yeah, I'm taking you home," Satoru looks over at the guy with you and nods at him. "I got her."

You don't process what he says back and it seems like he left. Minutes pass before Satoru walks you to an Uber. The ride home is mostly silent before you realize something and speak up.

"Wait, what happened to that girl you were talking to?"

"I'll live," he brushes you off nonchalantly. "Besides, I needed to take care of you."

"Thanks, dad," you roll your eyes, shoving him.

"There we go, looks like you're sobering up. Just rest for now, okay? We're almost home."

Once you arrive, he helps you to your bed and brings you makeup wipes, at your request. Then, he brings you a change of clothes from his closet. You liked somewhat planning your outfits for the week and he knew he didn't wanna mess that up for you. You both change in your respective rooms before he comes back with two waters and settles into your bed.

"Hey, who said you could be here?" You ask after you have gotten the bottle half empty. Despite this, you lay down to cuddle into him. He welcomes the intrusion, wrapping his arm around you and adjusting the blanket to cover you.

"Shut up, you like having me in your bed," he teases, looking down at your head on his chest.

"In your dreams," you deadpan, tilting your head up at him. "But thank you, uhm, for looking after me."

"Of course, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"Yes, ma'am," he mock salutes with his free hand and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

When you meet his gaze again, he's already staring at you in a way that makes you want to shrink into yourself. You break the contact for a moment before looking back at him, an unreadable look on his face.

"What?" You scoff.

His free hand is now moving to run through your hair, untangling it a bit. "You're really pretty," he hums as he starts playing with specific strands near your face and you're too scared to breathe. He thinks you're pretty right now? No makeup, face flushed from alcohol, your hair a mess from the humidity of the basement you guys just came out of, wearing his baggy clothes. The list goes on.

"Damn, the alc got to you too, huh?" You laugh again, albeit kind of nervously. Was he really drunk enough to use his flirting tactics on you?

"Yeah, but I've always thought you were pretty. Don't act like it's a new discovery," it's his turn to roll his eyes. "You know it, too."

"Okay, but not like this," you gesture down at yourself. "And definitely not from you."

"Let me prove I mean it," he murmurs and then came one of the biggest mistakes of your college career.

He kissed you. You kissed back.

When the realization came to you, you quickly pushed him back, mouth agape. "What. The. Fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What are you doing?!"

"I don't know!" He exclaims, brushing his fingers across his lips. "It just... happened. I don't know."

"Seriously, Toru. I literally just told you about how I felt like all my 'guy friends' secretly wanna fuck me and now you wanna prove me right?!" You fall back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm not—we can't. You're not gonna be one of them."

"Hey, wait. You can still talk about that shit with me, y'know?" He turns on his side to look at you, but you can't return the gesture. "We both have rosters, nothing has to change."

"What are you saying?"

"I wanted to kiss you. I know that. And I also know that I genuinely like spending time with you. Why not... have both?"

"You're fucked," you scoff.

"You don't have feelings for me, right?" He asks, and you shake your head at him. Of course not, you've never even seen him as an option. "And I don't have any for you. But I already fucked up. It's like... transactional. Cause I know I'm gonna wanna kiss you again, and we could do that. But still be the way we are."

"So you wanna be friends with benefits?"

"Do you like the idea?" It comes out cautiously.

You hesitate in coming up with an answer. "Can't we just pretend it didn't happen?"

✧˖*°࿐

So you guys tried. Again, you've never seen Satoru in that way before. But after that night, which both of you seemed to remember in the morning, things changed. You caught yourself staring at him more and when you guys hung out, there was nothing but tension. You tried to cuddle with him while you guys played Minecraft, but the proximity was too much and you ended up kissing again. And then some.

After you were both left naked and panting in his bed, he broke the silence. "So is that a yes?" He didn't have to say what he was referring to.

"Shut up."

And so it began. Your sleepovers became steamier and in the quiet moments, you would kiss through hushed laughter. Although you would rather drink 10 bottles of Pink Whitney than admit it, he was ranked number one on your roster. If he was actually participating, that is. You knew nothing would ever come out of this and that was the whole point of your situation. But between smoke breaks on the fire escape and him taking you to his hometown for break, you knew you were fucked.

It was actually in his hometown when you first felt it. Thanksgiving break, he'd informed you that his family was on a trip without him and asked you to come visit. Your family wasn't big on the holiday, so you did. He lived in the middle of nowhere so the trip was pretty long and boring, filled with plain fields.

That night, his friends were having a bonfire and he wanted to take you. He drove, so you knew he wouldn't be drinking. The music plays softly on the radio and you stare out the window. For some reason on the way over you couldn't help but feel nervous. You wanted his friends to like you, you wanted everyone you met to like you, but this felt different. It feels like—

"You're Satoru's girlfriend?" One of his friends had already come to greet you in the driveway, extending a hand. "I'm Nanami, by the way." Satoru quickly smacked it away, rolling his eyes.

"Ignore this idiot, Y/N/N," he comes to stand next to you, gesturing dramatically. You try not to concentrate on the fact that he didn't correct Nanami.

"Well, it'd be a shame if you are. You're too pretty for him," Nanami completely disregards him to focus on you.

You laugh at that, hiding your mouth behind a hand. It was refreshing to see the way Satoru interacted with his friends, you only ever saw how he and Suguru were. "Thank you, I wouldn't be caught dead next to him if I wasn't forced."

"Hey!" Satoru gawks at the two of you teaming up against him, crossing his arms childishly. "Fuck you both, then."

"Trust me, man. I don't want to," Nanami eyes him up and down in disgust.

The three (well, two) of you die of laughter while you walk over to the fire pit. You met everyone there, finding ones you could talk to easier than others. And of course, there were multiple comments on the status of your relationship, all of them along the lines of the first one. You found yourself easing into their dynamic and even making conversation unprompted by Satoru. You try not to get attached but you can't help but feel like you'd wanna come back.

The drinks arrived in the form of a man named Sukuna, who was quick to yell at everyone to "get off your asses and help me". It was kind of intimidating and you walked over to help along with several others. You decide to grab something simple (two bottles of Barcardi), worried about messing up your nails with the heavy boxes. Once the drinks were set on one of those outdoor folding tables, he turned to you directly.

"Thanks, beautiful. Who'd you come with?" He asked, opening a box to hand you a seltzer.

You take it gratefully, clinking cans with him. "I came with Satoru."

Sukuna scoffed, disgust flashing over his face. Compared to everyone else's reaction, his almost felt real. "Can't believe he actually brought a girl home. And she's way out of his league."

Laughing with a hint of unease, you nod. "I've been told."

"Hey, when he fucks it up you can cry on my shoulder," he offers, holding his can up at you.

You're not sure what to think of that so you just nod, thanking him for the drink before walking back to the pit. Looking around, you find there's nowhere left to sit. Satoru notices, giving you a look as he pats his lap. You try not to blush when you sit in his lap horizontally. How were you going to fight the dating allegations like this? You peek to see if anyone is looking, but everyone's in their own world.

The guys decided to start acting like guys and throw an excessive amount of wood into the fire, making it crackle and roar. The embers spit out at you way harsher, and you flinch away.

Satoru takes off his Carhartt jacket, putting it over you as his arms wrap around you. One around your shoulder and one on your thigh. Successfully comforted, you lay your head in the crook of his neck. "Thank you."

"Wouldn't want you to go up in flames," he smiles down at you. Then he leans down so your conversation becomes more private. "Try not to talk to Sukuna too much, he's an asshole. He's only here because he invited himself."

"He seemed nice enough."

A scoff is heard above you as Satoru wraps his arms around you tighter. "Only cause you're a girl. Watch the way he talks to the rest of us."

You do from the corner of your eye, sipping your drink casually. You loved the familial energy of everyone at the bonfire so far, but you could tell Sukuna's presence had a negative effect on the people near him. They didn't lean in to talk to him, more like leaned away. You hear him obnoxiously ask, "so where the bitches at?" which makes a few of the guys around him visibly cringe as he barks out a laugh, punching one of them hard in the arm.

"Wow," you giggle.

"I know," Satoru rolls his eyes. "So besides him, what do you think of everyone else?"

"Everyone's so kind. It feels really homey, you know?" You gush. "But I really like um... Choso? And Nanami."

"Good choices," he hums. "Nanami is my best friend, besides Suguru."

"Hey, how come you didn't invite him and Ieiri?" Your gaze moves to the fire, which has calmed down a bit.

"I didn't think about it. Wanted it to be just us," he shrugged. "And I told you I'd take you stargazing for real, right? Out here there's not a lot of light pollution." He points up at the sky.

You follow his finger and gasp, pulling your head away from his shoulder. You'd been in the city or along the border of one your whole life. You've never seen this many stars before and you can't stop staring. The night sky wasn't just littered with stars, it was covered in them. How had you not looked up sooner? "Holy shit, it's beautiful."

"Yeah, really is," you hear Satoru murmur. You take a break from craning your neck to gaze at the stratosphere to instead look down at him and notice he's already looking at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don't care because he's... beautiful. His eyes are reflecting yours, with speckles of stars in them and it's so much easier to see them because of how bright his eyes are. They look angelic, so calm and fond.

There, holding an unwavering gaze with Satoru under the stars, you knew you were fucked.

It could only go downhill from there.

✧˖*°࿐

A few days after you get back home, you're surprised when Satoru asks to visit you. "It's only fair," he claims over the phone.

You tell him that there's not much to do where you live, but he insists. During the day time he gets to meet some of your family, but you know they wouldn't let him stay over. At night, you show him your driving skills before he promptly switches seats with you, fearing for his life.

In the passenger seat, you give him instructions on how to get to your favorite parking lot. It looks over the water and at night, you can see the lights of the town across the way. He backs into the lot so you can open the trunk and sit.

"You know, compared to my sky yours isn't too bad," he says passively.

You stare up into the water and sigh. "Yeah, but I'm never gonna forget the stars in your butt fuck middle of nowhere town."

He shoves you and you smile. To distract yourself from your newfound view of him, you look around. In doing so, you start getting paranoid about the shadows surrounding you under the streetlights. He seems to notice and pulls you into his lap to face him.

"Scared? This is supposed to be your territory," he teases.

You push your hands against his chest, huffing. "The trees look like... people, like that one." You angle your body as much as you can to point to an area down the street.

He looks over and nods, smirking as he turns to you. "Yeah, it kinda looks like the lady from that horror movie we watched."

"Stop," you whine as he starts repeating one of her phrases. You curl impossibly closer to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck in fear.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter as he rubs your back. "Hey, hey. I was joking, relax. She's not real and if she was, I got you."

You grumpily pull away to look at him, swatting at him. You're about to call him a slur of insults before your breath hitches. It was the same feeling you got at the bonfire and you can't help but savor it for a moment. The way he looks at you, or maybe looks in general makes your heart stutter.

You try to shake the feeling as you lean on him again, unable to hold eye contact anymore. You hate everything.

Once break was over and you were back in school, Satoru's list started back up again. Yours did, too. But no matter how much time you spend with however many other guys, nothing could recreate the spark you have with him. And to make everything worse, Satoru would shit on every guy you ever brought up. It's like he knew they couldn't compare.

Every weekend he wouldn't come home and you'd have to cry yourself to sleep, staying up to listen for a door click. It was pathetic. You felt pathetic. You knew the deal when you started this whole thing and it wasn't even your idea. In fact, this is something you never even wanted. So why were you the one catching feelings? It felt like a cruel and unusual punishment.

One of the times you actually heard the door click, you perked up in your bed. You sat up fully when you heard the knock on your door. You didn't even get to say anything before Satoru was stumbling in, clearly drunk.

"Toru? What's wrong?"

"It's so fucked, everything's so fucked," he mumbled, walking over to strip next to your closet, knowing you hated outside clothes on your bed. In his boxers, he climbed into bed with you, wrapping his arms around your torso.

"I thought you'd be gone tonight," you say, running a hand through his hair.

"I was supposed to be, but," he groans, huffing into your skin. "The girl told me she liked me and... I dunno. She knows the deal but she wants to go on a date."

Your heart pangs at that, glad the room was so dark he wouldn't be able to see how your face fell. You feel bad for her because you'd be in the same position if he continued to drive you crazy. Honestly, good on her for holding on for so long. And you feel bad for yourself because... well, it's horrible to hear about other girls from the guy you like. "So what'd you say?"

"I told her I dunno. Cause I don't. She's nice and all, but relationships scare me," he lifts his head to search around your drawers for a shot and takes it, sighing. "What'd—do I do?"

Biting a lip to try to hold back the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, you try to keep your voice steady as you speak. "Well, if you like her enough you should do it. I mean, you've spent enough time enjoying your youth. I'm not saying you should get married, but maybe it's time to settle down and stop fighting demons or whatever the fuck."

He snorts at that, shaking his head while you take the moment to subtly wipe your tears. "I dunno if I like her, dunno what that feels like."

"You've never had a crush before?"

"Of course I have, but 's different for every person I like. I dunno what it feels like for her."

You nod but realize he can't see you so you hum. "It's really up to you, maybe you could make a pros and cons list—" he interrupts you with another huff of laughter and you smack him lightly. "I'm serious if you're this confused. And then maybe the date could help you figure out if you like her or not. A date isn't a proposal, it's not even a relationship. The whole point is experimentation."

"Okay," he leans his head on you and you can feel how warm his face is. From the alcohol or the topic of conversation, you're not sure. "You're so smart Y/N/N, you know that? And pretty, and kind, and funny, and—"

"Are we talking about me or the girl?" You shut him up, frowning.

"Maybe that's what this is," he responds. "I like you 'nd not her. That's why I'm confused."

You freeze up, pausing your hand in his hair. You wonder if he can feel your heart pounding from the proximity and look down at him, the tears starting up again. "Y-You don't know what you're saying, Toru. You're drunk."

"Drunk words are sober words."

"You're such a fucking idiot," you scoff, wiping at your tears again. "Go to sleep, you can talk to me about her tomorrow. If you even remember."

"I try to commit everything we do to mem'ry so I can think about it when I miss you."

"Go to sleep," you state firmly. He can't play around with you right now, not like this. It hurts too much and the thoughts are swirling in your head. How dare he do this to you? And what happened to "no feelings"?

He seems to be ahead of you, saying nothing. You wait until his breathing evens out before you start crying freely, your tears rolling onto your pillow. Of all the people you could've fallen for, why him? What did you do to deserve this? In a negative connotation, of course. And what if he goes on that date and they get serious? You couldn't keep your situation with Satoru so you'd have to lose him. And even if your feelings aren't reciprocated, or so you thought, you'd rather be like this with him than not have him at all.

What are you saying? You don't even have him.

With that last heart-wrenching thought, you fall asleep. In the morning, Satoru retells you the story of him and the girl, seemingly forgetting everything past walking through your door. You give him the same advice and the idiot actually makes a pros and cons list on the whiteboard you guys have in the living room for study sessions. Ieiri walks in while he's writing it and raises an eyebrow.

"Is this not a red flag enough to not do it?"

"What? Is that a con to add?" Satoru turns his head to her. You make eye contact with her from the couch, both of you sharing an exasperated look.

"No, dumbass. The fact that you have to draw a Venn diagram to decide if you should go on a date probably means you shouldn't go on it," she crosses her arms.

"Bro, I don't know what I'm doing," Satoru sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead. "I wish she never confessed. I feel like I lead her on or something and I owe her the date."

"Everyone knows you don't do relationships. And if I were her, I'd rather you just turn me down than take me out for a pity dinner. And if I found out about this," she gestures to the board before grabbing a coat off the hangers by the door. "I'd ghost you."

Satoru looks between her and the board, his face falling. "You're right. She doesn't deserve that, especially if I don't like her like that."

"There you go," she coos at him like he's a child and he scowls back. "I'm out, have fun you two. But not too much fun." With that, she's out the door.

Ieiri and Suguru knew about your arrangement, of course. You lived together. But only Ieiri knew about your feelings towards Satoru and as your friend, she was rooting for you. You're glad it didn't show in the way she spoke to him and you're glad to talk to someone about it who knows him. Your other friends told you that you never should've gotten in the predicament in the first place and he was a piece of shit. But you couldn't help it. Sometimes things just happen and you can't just flip a switch to change your feelings. That didn't stop you from trying, but still.

"I'm exhausted and hungry," Satoru huffs as he plops down next to you.

"Aww, was that too much thinking for your small brain?" You mock him and he flicks your forehead. "I bought brownie mix I haven't gotten around to."

He perks up at that, heading to the kitchen to search through the pantry. You follow and open the cupboards for a bowl and a whisk. You wait for him to grab the box and the rest of the ingredients as you place your items on the counter. He lays them out for you and you add them to the bowl, humming a bit as you do.

He tells Alexa to play the song you were humming and you look at him indignantly. "If you wanted me to shut up, you could've just said so."

"I like your voice, pretty girl. I'm actually encouraging it," he grins at you.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes, adding another ingredient to the bowl.

Satoru comes behind you to circle your waist, resting his head on your shoulder with a mumbled apology for his teasing. There's not much for him to do as you're in charge of the bowl and he was very diligent in being your helper. You can't help but feel like the position is oddly domestic, getting lost in a daydream where you're married, baking together in a bigger kitchen. You didn't notice your hand had stopped on the whisk, so Satoru puts his over yours to guide it.

"What're you thinking about?"

He's right, what are you thinking about? What happened to the noncommittal oath you had at the beginning of the year? "Uh, nothing important."

"Everything about you is important to me. Tell me," he turns his head to kiss your neck, making you shiver.

"Don't say sappy shit like that, Toru," you scold him lightly when you come to your senses. "And really, it's nothing." He sucks on your skin in warning and you hiss. "Stop that, you could leave a mark."

"And if I don't?"

"Then you're gonna scare away my potential suitors."

At that, he sucks down harder and your free hand goes to grab his hair. "Toru," you say lowly, but he doesn't stop, moving his hands to trap you against the counter. You finally pull him off of you and turn around between his arms, putting your hand on his chest. "What is up with you?"

There's a pregnant pause where you both just stare at each other, your gaze harsher than his.

"I get jealous when you talk about the guys on your roster," he admits quietly, not looking at you.

"I get jealous when you talk about the girls on your roster. Especially today's," you murmur back and his eyes snap to yours. "So what does that mean?"

"It means we're stupid," he smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you could cry from happiness. It felt real and full of emotion, like his lips were meant for yours. Everything you've held back was put into the kiss. He only pulls away so you can catch your breath. "I realized that when I imagine getting asked out by you, I don't need the list. It's all pros."

"I can not believe you're confessing to me like this," you scoff in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips. "You really are an idiot."

"Will you let this idiot take you out on a date?"

You hum, pretending to think as you press a finger to your bottom lip. "Well, you might not need a list but I definitely do."

His mouth falls open, clearly offended, before he smirks and slides the things on the counter to the side. He lifts you onto it in its place and you squeal at the change in position. He rests his hands on your hips as he drops his head to your ear. "Then let me convince you."

✧˖*°࿐

When Ieiri got home, she was not happy to find that you guys did, in fact, have too much fun. Suguru gets home a bit after and you all sit in the living room to eat takeout together.

“So, this is an actual thing now?” Ieiri uses her chopsticks to point at the both of you.

“Yeah,” you try not to smile as Satoru leans in to kiss your cheek.

“Fucking finally,” Suguru huffs from the recliner. “I tried to tell Sato that the way he talks about you is not normal.”

“You talk about me?” Your eyes flicker to Satoru’s and he seems shy all of a sudden, using his food as an excuse to avert your gaze. His hair falls over his face as he eats quietly.

“Wouldn't stop, actually. I told him he liked you and he just told me it wasn't like that but, guess who’s always right?” Suguru obnoxiously jabs a thumb at himself. “This guy.”

“Tell me about it,” Ieiri leans forward to giggle, covering her mouth as she swallows her food. “Y/N wouldn't shut up abo—”

“Okay! Can we all just eat in peace?” You interrupt, face flushing from your friends’ analysis of you and Satoru.

“Wait, wait. I wanna hear about this,” Satoru presses into you again, sending you a sly smile as he throws his arm over your shoulder.

It was gonna be a long night.

— [♡] ;

[moonshynecybin]

oh to see the scenes going down at borgo panigale when in a few years marc retired and all their riders are now racing for another team. like i fear what they have not quite understood yet is that if these two years turn out to be a disaster for pecco (not in terms of performance but in terms of not winning the championship lol) his ass is leavingggg

sorryyyy this doesnt answer this ask at ALL but imagine if marc starts his own team post retirement. imagine if they continue to proxy war that way. just drive to survive level real housewives cuntery across the paddock… cheating accusations bitchy press releases fights over riders…. lined, serious faces… alllll the contrast in their branding… still somehow defining themselves in relation to the other because it’s the only way they know how to BE anymore… marc with a lil ant logo polo on as a HRC independent team owner/manager (control freak.) greying at the temples and vale across the way carefully unbranded except for the monster energy hat… excruciatingly aware of each other but not making eye contact… a wind blows and they think about looking… they don’t…

[buddierecs]

long (40k+ words) buddie fics

all mature rating!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

leave the light on (i'll be coming home) by: HMSLusitania "an accident on a call leaves buck with custody of chris after eddie is... missing presumed. while they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite eddie's parents' best efforts -- a john doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home." word count: 44k important tags: presumed dead, grief, mourning, angst, amnesia, getting together across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by: catchingpapermoons "eddie gets buck to come to couples therapy with him." word count: 53k important tags: therapy, getting together, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, medding, idiots in love

little lies by: david3096 "chris tells a lie at school and now eddie and buck must give a talk about love and work pretending to be fiances." word count: 62k important tags: fake dating, idiots in love, mutual pining, miscommunication, fluff, christopher diaz has two dads tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by: withmeornotatall "eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia" word count: 43k important tags: time loop, minor buck/natalia, heavy angst, eventual happy ending, weddings, love confessions i'll feel you forget me like i used to feel you breathe by: turningthepages "just another hollywood amnesia story the fandom probably didn't need but lived in my head rent free for too long." word count: 128k important tags: married!buddie, amnesia, car accidents, hurt!eddie diaz, angst, hurt/comfort, future fic (they have 3 kids) tell me about despair by: hattalove "the entity often affectionately referred to as the unrepression fic." word count: 148k important tags: therapy, ptsd, heavy angst, communication, feelings realisation, friends to lovers, slow burn

ripples all the way down by: iriswests "christopher partakes in some parent trapping" word count: 57k important tags: jealous!evan buckley, jealous!eddie diaz, slow burn, miscommunication, happy ending peace in austin by: angalwithwingsoffire "the story of evan buckley, losing all hope in la after the lawsuit and moving to texas to join the 126." word count: 156k important tags: post-lawsuit, 911 lone star characters, angst, evan buckely leaves the 118, depression, ptsd, emotional hurt hold steady, hold steady by: thetalee "after eddie's bombshell announcement on christmas, buck runs away and finds himself back on his first day on the job. a time-travel fix-it fic of sorts, ft. a stranger that totally just wants to help, honest." word count: 172k important tags: time travel, time loops, supernatural elements au, slow burn, shannon diaz lives, hurt!evan buckley, temporary character death the persistence of memory by: withmeornotatall "buck gets shot, eddie has to keep reliving the day until he can figure out what the universe is trying to tell him" word count: 58k important tags: time loop, eddie diaz pov, angst, hurt/comfort, temporary character death, gay disaster!eddie diaz, make outs, gun violence heart of flowers/heart of gold by elvensorceress "after nearly losing each other, buck and eddie find their way to each other and their family’s happily ever after." word count: 144k important tags: season 4, friends to lovers, mutual pining, evan buckley takes care of eddie diaz, demisexual!eddie diaz, gun shot wounds you can tell everybody this is your song (series) by: woodchoc_magnum "it's not a date if chris is here with us." at that, buck's eyebrows flew up, and his face went pale. "a… date?" eddie nodded, a little nervously. "yeah. this is a date." word count: 640k important tags: romance fluff, boys in love, getting together, developing relationship, falling in love

boys of summer by: woodchoc_magnum "in which buck takes eddie on a summer road trip through the sierra nevada mountains, and they fall head over heels in love with each other" word count: 47k important tags: road trips, falling in love, boys falling in love, soft!buddie, family feels, team as family cause we belong together now by: smilingbuckley "on a call, buck and eddie meet an adorable little girl that they fall in love with and want to adopt. the only problem? they're not together romantically..." word count: 68k important tags: marriage of convenience, parenthood, adoption, slow burn, miscommunication, family fluff, pining, oblivious!evan buckley, soft!buddie, friends to lovers

[cherrieguroo]

Ok, I’m going harder now.

1. A guy shows his pals his fanfiction (disaster strikes)

2. Weird poop obsession. Their fans dig it, though.

3. Wanna tear that crap alongside murder.

4. This song makes my little asexual heart quiver. I skip it everytime I watch the show it’s from.

5. The best song from said musical it’s from. Hot take. It’s also the one with three main singers, and a jazzy beat.

Show stopping number?

HUH?? Dysentery world? Is this a Hatchetfield song??

i have no clue actually WAIT. KILLER TRACK

First thought is Dirty girl

Cup of Roasted / Poisoned coffee

[dvzaiosamu]

𓇼 SUMMERTIME JOY | chuuya nakahara. A little one-shot where you and Chuuya are on the beach enjoying everything. As simple as that! It may not be very long, but I hope you like it.

Hello everyone! It's been a long time since I logged in to write something. As I just took my summer vacation, I want to wish everyone a happy summer and enjoy it. These days I had no motivation to write and I left everything half done in my drafts. But now I'll try to make the effort to write something!

The sun in the sky looked like a colored drawing, even childish if you looked at it another way.

It was summer and damn right it felt like summer. You felt the sand between your feet, warm to the touch. A bikini and a beach hat. Everything was perfect and like a vacation away from everything, disconnecting and sharing emotions with the sea.

Underneath was a beach towel and a hammock tied to two trees. Next to it you had a frozen box with multiple foods and refreshing drinks as well as a bag with sunscreen and so on.

And your husband is there too.

At your side is Chuuya, who has taken the vacation very personally. There he is lying in a hammock that is tied to two trees, cocktail in his hand. Black sunglasses on his head, bare skin with a thin open jacket on top, beach shorts and some flip flops lying around.

"Hey, Chuuya... Do you remember when we were still little and we always came to this beach?" you find yourself asking.

"Of course I remember, you were a disaster," he smiles. "Why do you ask?"

"Well...do you remember when we ran into the water to take a dip?" you continue. "I wonder if instead of staying here in the sun, we'd go there to… you know."

"If my beautiful wife says so, I don't have a big problem," leaving his finished cocktail on the sand, he stands next to you. "Come on."

Walking with him towards the seashore, smiling like you've never done before, you feel a disconnection from the outside world, not worrying about work, enjoying a good vacation.

You were thinking, and you feel arms lift you up, bridal style. You laugh at Chuuya's expression, one of determination and like he was so focused on getting you to the water, it seemed like his face expressed a lot of effort.

"The water is freezing... Don't you think you should let me get used to it?" you say, feeling the water cover your knees.

"The only thing you have to get used to is that tonight we are going to celebrate our vacation in a house that I bought for this vacation," he responds, leaving you in the water, where you can still touch the sand with your feet.

"What a gentleman you are."

"For you I can be anything—"

A palm of water is thrown at Chuuya's face, wetting his hair.

"Take that!"

"What was that for!" complains Chuuya.

"Nothing really! Just making this more fun for the two of us," you laugh like a child.

"Oh yeah?" he splashes water all over you. "Then this is a sweet revange."

"Ack— c'mon! Not salt in the eyes!" you whine.

Well. What a vacation. Is this what humans call to be happy with one's lover? I believe it is.

Do you know the worst? I had written all of this before, it didn't save when I accidentally clicked on a notification and I had to rewrite it entirely. But hey, although this one didn't turn out the best, and it's a bit short, maybe incoherent, at least I hope it's something for my dear followers :3

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Twelve

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Shock over the humans eventually petered out, with the consensus being that there was nothing to be done, since, “Well, it’s humans.” Everyone settled back into eating and talking and resting when the sky began to lighten up. The rest of that night, all things considered, went peacefully.

It only took until daylight for disaster to strike.

Fireheart’s sleep was restless; he kept flinching awake, like someone had jabbed him in the side with the humans’ smelly glowing stick. Every time, he thought he heard a scream that ended just as his sleep did. More than once, Cinderpaw and Yellowfang whispered to each other just within his range of hearing, but too far away to make sense of what they were saying. He’d fall asleep again with increasing difficulty, having to breathe deeper and deeper to rest in the growing heat. 

The last time he nodded off, he was woken again by a scream. A real one.

“Rise! Wake!” came Yellowfang’s voice, somewhat hidden under an intense crackling. “Up with you all! NOW!”

Cinderpaw now, a much louder shriek. “EVERYONE, HURRY! GET UP!”

The piercing cry had everyone’s heads up, blinking in confusion and then coughing. The air was thick now, clogging Fireheart’s nose and stinging his eyes. He recognized it at once and jumped to his feet, rushing outside, followed by the rest of the warriors.

The smoke’s source was clear—a bright orange blaze reached the sky from the north, taller than any of the fires Fireheart had seen in his old house. A wall of blistering heat crushed his senses, and what it didn’t suffocate was gleaned by the smoke. Above all, the crackling stifled everything, followed closely by a roaring loud enough to deafen, and only growing louder as it approached.

Yowls of fear and panicked screams; Fireheart turned to see his Clanmates bunching together or scrambling for shelter, back-hairs bristling and eyes bulging with terror. No longer were the giants of ThunderClan standing strong and brave against an enemy force. Now they looked more like wailing kits trying to find their mothers to hide behind. Animal instinct, trying to save them, instead trapped them in camp with nowhere to run.

They’ve never seen a fire before, Fireheart realized. They don’t know what to do.

That was all it took. His pounding heart settled just enough to clear his head, trying to make sense of the clearing. He felt a focused, steady ferocity, and before he could even think to do it, he ran for Speckletail, who was looking around wildly in panic.

“Round up the Clan!” he shouted to her over the roar. “We need to get out of here!”

The deputy twisted her head and looked at him, which he returned with an encouraging nod. Something visibly clicked in her mind and she shook herself. Her eyes lost their fear and blazed with determination. She couldn’t yowl over the cries of the terrified Clan, so she ran from cat to cat, ordering obedience and gathering them together in groups.

Fireheart didn’t watch for longer than it took to ensure she had the adults handled; he turned and ran for Yellowfang and Cinderpaw, packed close together. Yellowfang caught sight of him and hobbled to meet up with him.

“Can you both get the apprentices out of here?” he shouted, coughing as smoke punched at his throat. “Speckletail’s got the warriors!”

Yellowfang looked frightened, but not in the blind, overwhelmed way, thank the stars. She returned to Cinderpaw, barking the request to her. Cinderpaw didn’t respond until her mentor cuffed her ear, to which she jerked back and silently led Yellowfang to the apprentices’ den, where most of them were hiding, just their eyes visible.

Who else, who else… Fireheart looked around, searching for anyone who wasn’t in a blind panic. Speckletail was leading parties to the entrance one at a time, and he heard her order Whitecloud to get Bluestar. Of all the cats, a pair of them were lingering in the center of the clearing, yelling to each other indistinctly.

A scream came from the nursery. Goldenflower’s tail was poking out of the entrance.

“Dustpelt! Ravenwing!” Fireheart pelted it for the pair of warriors. “Help me with the kits!”

They jolted and only now seemed to realize he was there. Dustpelt didn’t ask questions, just raced to the nursery as Goldenflower pulled Bramblekit out into the open. Goldenflower caught sight of him and raised a paw to swat him, her eyes bulging and mouth open and panting. Dustpelt tried to step forward and she hissed and swung at him, almost knocking him backwards without touching him.

“Get over there!” Ravenwing yelled to Fireheart. “She needs you!”

Fireheart did one last scan to ensure the rest of the clearing was empty; the elders were the last out and Speckletail was hurrying over to the nursery. He nodded to Ravenwing and crossed to the den, just as Goldenflower was swinging at Dustpelt, claws out.

“Mira!” Fireheart jumped in front of Dustpelt, trying to catch Goldenflower’s eyes. “Stop!”

It took her a moment, but her wild eyes found Fireheart’s, and she settled just enough that he thought he could reach her.

“Let us help with the kits and Brindleface!” he shouted, then turned his head as Speckletail reached them. “Get everyone out of the nursery!”

Speckletail pressed a paw on Goldenflower’s side, and at this Goldenflower’s expression softened just a little. She ducked into the nursery and quickly popped her head up with Tawnykit, who Fireheart took and set by Bramblekit. The two kits huddled together, shaking violently, as Goldenflower brought up Ashkit and handed him over. One by one, the kits were pulled out, and Brindleface finally emerged, staring at the fast-approaching fire, trembling.

Speckletail turned to Dustpelt and Ravenwing, calling, “Help us carry them out!”

The toms obeyed instantly, rushing to pick up Ashkit and Aspenkit. Fireheart grabbed a stunned and stiff Cloudkit, while Goldenflower and Brindleface took the twins. Speckletail took the lead and ran with them in a line out of camp, chased by the crackling and roaring.

The Clan was clustered together outside, and the fire was much more visible from here—it was a solid wall of orange and yellow, smoke billowing and blackening the already-dark sky, the clouds overhead thick and grey. Bramblekit wailed in fear, and many of the Clan’s eyes were zeroed in on the searing tower.

Which was all-too-quickly coming closer.

“Everyone follow us!” Speckletail yowled as loud as she could, just barely dominating the roaring. She pushed at Bluestar and started to run, the leader quickly following her. The Clan raced after them, some still crying out in terror and others pleading for the Three to save them.

To Fireheart’s relief, some cats caught sight of the kits and queens and fell back to run with them, half-circling the little group. Goldenflower’s eyes were popping out of her head, but she kept her head up and carried Tawnykit silently. Fireheart couldn’t turn his head to see Brindleface, but he could hear her garbled attempts at soothing Bramblekit as he cried for help. Cloudkit, oddly, was completely silent, but even with him dangling from his uncle’s jaws, Fireheart could feel him shaking and trying to curl up into himself.

A blackened, burning tree groaned ahead of them, a noise that struck dread into Fireheart’s chest more than the sounds of the fire. Before he could say anything, the tree began to move—leaning into their path, something that would’ve been fascinating to watch had that dread not told Fireheart to speed up. He buckled down into a sprint, Cloudkit bouncing into his chest and squealing. Once he passed the leaning tree, he stopped and waited until everyone else ran past him. The tree gave him no further time to pause, because with a creak and a crack, it fell just after where Fireheart had stopped, and he started running as it landed. The ground shook hard enough to nearly topple him, but he caught himself and raced on, the cracks and groans of other trees echoing in the forest.

When he caught up to the Clan, they were scattered in a spread-out crowd, all running as fast as they could go without leaving anyone behind—Cinderpaw and Yellowfang were clustered in with the apprentices, limping at an impressive speed that still kept them all from sprinting. The bright-and-black contrast in the fire’s glow darkened everyone into a silhouette. Fireheart prayed that everyone was with them.

Somewhere far behind him, a howling, high scream sounded off. Fireheart didn’t dare to stop and find out what made that noise.

The neutral grounds finally came into view, and the coughing, gasping, crying Clan burst out of the forest. The fire had not reached the field, and Fireheart thanked the Three, the Mother, and StarClan that they could slow down and catch their breath in the much cleaner air. The sun was hidden behind the dense clouds, a blessing of coolness after being trapped in the burning forest.

Speckletail and Bluestar didn’t stop until the Clan had reached Fourtrees, at which several cats staggered to a stop and collapsed, panting. Fireheart joined up with Goldenflower and the others, gently setting Cloudkit down next to Brindleface, who he immediately huddled into, his blue eyes huge and wet with fear.

Goldenflower nosed each kit as they were released and crowded together, sniffing them carefully. Fireheart’s back-fur relaxed as her entire pelt smoothed out again. She turned to him now and sniffed at his coat.

“Are you alright, honeymouse?” she asked, her voice trying very hard to sound soothing and more coming out wobbly.  

“I’m fine.” Fireheart stepped forward to press his head into her shoulder. The small bit of contact washed over his entire body; the feeling of safety at last made it difficult for him to back off again.

Goldenflower, evidently, felt the same way. Her chin rested on Fireheart’s head, her purr in his ears. It was a weak one, and it clearly took effort, but the small sound almost swept away all the terror the fire had brought.

“Mi?” came Bramblekit’s voice. Fireheart stepped back to let a shaking Bramblekit, led by a wide-eyed Tawnykit, approach their mother. “Are we safe now?”

Goldenflower didn’t answer immediately. She gazed out at the forest, her focus somewhere far away, only looking back when Tawnykit gently pawed at her leg. She bent her head and licked Bramblekit’s ear, then Tawnykit’s.

“Yes,” she said gently. “We’re safe now.”

Fireheart turned and looked over his Clanmates. Everyone was clearing the last of the smoke out of their lungs, some leaning against each other and some watching the fire with shaky legs. Bluestar sat with Whitecloud, her eyes disoriented as she panted. Fireheart caught sight of Greystripe, who was following Ravenwing as the sleek black tom went from cat to cat, looking increasingly scared.

“Pampam?” he called. “Where are you?”

Fireheart’s stomach iced over.

One-eye, coughing hard, looked to Halftail. The dark elder’s eyes popped open and, unusually for him, he jumped to his feet and twisted around this way and that with speed and alarm.

“Patchpelt!” he shouted. He turned to the group nearest to him. “Does anyone see Patchpelt?”

The easing air tensed up immediately once again. Each cat looked around, speaking to each other with increasing volume.

Fireheart stood on his hind legs and scanned. The black-and-white elder was nowhere to be seen.

Ravenwing cried out in horror and started running again—for the forest this time. Greystripe barely managed to catch him by the scruff and haul him backwards again, Fireheart racing to join them.

“LET ME GO!” Ravenwing screeched, viciously thrashing. “HE’S STILL IN THE FOREST!”

“We can’t go back for him!” Greystripe managed around his mouthful of fur. “Stop!”

A crash from the woods; Fireheart looked to see the path they’d taken was overrun by fire.

“I SAID ‘LET ME GO’!” Ravenwing screamed, his front paws straining to hit the ground. “PAMPAM!”

Fireheart hurried up to him and, without thinking, pushed Ravenwing backwards. His friend toppled, and Greystripe held him down now with his weight.

“I’m sorry,” Fireheart said, bending down to his head-level. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. “I’m so sorry.”

Truthfully, he was fighting hard to keep himself from racing into the woods. By the faces of some of the Clan, they were resisting that urge, too. Ravenwing didn’t appear to notice any of them—he just thrashed uselessly, his yowls turning to weeping cries.

Whitecloud left Bluestar’s side to sit next to Ravenwing, gently placing a paw on his exposed chest. Ravenwing looked up at him, hyperventilating, as his mentor said mournfully, “Any of us will die if we go in there again. There’s nothing we can do.”

Ravenwing’s green eyes cleared of their feral spirit as he looked up at Whitecloud, until they eventually shut and Ravenwing curled up, shivering. Greystripe lifted off of him and huddled by his head, looking no less miserable. Fireheart joined them and started grooming Ravenwing’s head, purring unhappily.

“What do we do?” Teaselfoot said somewhere behind Fireheart.

No one answered.

A huff and a snarl, and Yellowfang’s croak echoed in the Gathering-place. “Suriin, blast your spotted hide! We see your clouds! Drown your foolish brother’s flames this instant!”

Fireheart looked up at her dully. She was glaring up at the sky, Cinderpaw beside her and staring at the forest.

Another voice, one of the apprentices. “Who’s that?”

Fireheart glanced back at the little cluster of apprentices, all of them encircling Swiftpaw. Brackenpaw was pointing with a paw down the field; when Fireheart followed his line of sight, he could have cried with joy.

A large, colorful cluster was running over the bridge across the water, heading their way.

“RiverClan?” Lizardtail almost whispered. “What are—”

“Look!” Brightpaw said over him. “Up the hill, too!”

The Clan looked, and sure enough, a duller but no smaller patrol raced down the moorlands, their love for sneakiness forgotten.

Don’t tell me… Fireheart stood up and peered over the crowd at the tunnel ShadowClan always went through to join the Gatherings. After a moment, dark and tiny cats appeared from it, sprinting for Fourtrees.

“They’re all coming,” he breathed out, half in amazement. “They must have seen the fire.”

Just then, a drop of water hit his nose. And then another on his back, and another on his left ear. In the smooth soil, little dark droplets peppered the ground around him.

“Rain!” Cinderpaw cried jubilantly.

Yellowfang drew in a ragged breath. “Blessings on the Three.”

Fireheart’s joy lasted as long as it took for him to catch sight of Ravenwing again, still curled on the ground and shaking. Greystripe stood half-over him now, blocking the rain.

There’s a chance Patchpelt is still alive, Fireheart thought—hoped, really. Just wait for the rain, Patchpelt. We can come back for you.

Even with this, the logical part of his mind sighed, There won’t be anyone to come back for.

He stayed silent. The fire roared on.