#can i admit to you that i have a wish to gather all the major ED scholars and work together to create a version of Sue's collection

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons : med student!abby anderson x liberal arts student!reader ᥫ᭡

content: wlw relationship. modern college au. ramblings of fluff, maybe a touch of angst but nothing heavy. enjoy <3

a/n: my authority for writing this you ask? i'm an english major who gets asked regularly what i am going to do with my degree! also this is my first time writing about abby i just had to get this idea out of my head and on to the screen.

-abby decided at a young age to follow in her father's footsteps and become a doctor as well. she committed herself to studying science and math as a kid and occasionally disregarded her other studies like music, art, and english. she did enough to keep a 4.0 GPA but her heart was in science tournaments, young medical professional groups, and ap bio.

-she got into one of the best schools in the states for medicine and was a stellar student in organic chemistry, anatomy, and neurology. she knew she was going to do great on her MCAT, but unfortunately, she wasn't doing so great in some of her gen ed classes and it was impacting her gpa.

-that was how she found herself in a tutoring center in one of the older buildings on campus that was shockingly different from the science buildings she spent all of her time in. she had an appointment with you, but was so nervous to go and admit that she was having trouble in something as simple as art history or literature or communication.

-when she sat down to have her appointment with you, you immediately calmed her nerves and assured her that there was nothing wrong with needing some help in classes she wasn't comfortable in. you helped her ace her quiz and then she just kept coming in to see you. over and over. until she eventually passed the class with an A and no longer needed your assistance.

-and then, as luck would have it, abby got her own job as a tutor for science courses and who happened to walk in but you! the tutor who helped her pass her own difficult course.

-it was history from there.

-despite abby's commitment to her education, she was always able to carve time out of her schedule to be with you. she loves studying with you and filling up a room in the library with your stuff to prepare for exams together. she takes a whiteboard and writes all of her notes on it while you're rereading historical texts or revising your final paper about a painting abby doesn't really quite understand.

-she never makes you feel less than for not studying something "more difficult" as people have before. she loves hearing about your passions for history or writing stories or creating art. she'll come with you to art galleries and try to input her own thoughts from time to time about what she thinks certain pieces mean.

-she understands that graduate school applications are just as important to you as medical school applications are for her. you'll do practice interviews with each other and try on outfits for each other.

-abby will not stand for someone making fun of you for your choice of studies. you two once went to a family gathering on abby's side and when some of her family members began interrogating you on how you're going to get a job and even imply that you'll be living off of abby for your whole life, she gets all up in their face and comforts you later! you will not be sending birthday wishes to those family members anymore and she can guarantee that.

-if you guys get accepted in to schools that are long-distance from each other, you'll absolutely make it work. abby is so methodical that she'll never forget to text you and plans out times that either of you can visit.

-if you ever dedicate a piece that you've created in school to her, she'll positively swoon. like if you wrote a poem about her, she would print it out and pin it up on the fridge. if you painted her, she would hang it up on the wall. and she's the best model for those things too

-i imagine that dinners with your colleagues or friends are very random. abby has but a few friends in her residency and they're each as professional as her. you, however, come with a group of lively people who are discussing philosophical ideas or debating about a piece of art history and how its influenced modern culture. it would be an interesting combination to say the least.

-abby would just be so interested in anything you have to do and would never be critical of your choices. she sees the passion you have for things that lie far outside her field and appreciates it. your future apartment that you build years after meeting when you are each established in your dream careers is a mesh of medical textbooks and flashcards and models but also messy journals and thrifted antiques and poems written on sticky notes for her to find.

[utahimeow]

swan song — satoru gojo

summary — why work so hard when you could just be free?

pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader

warnings — major jjk spoilers, graphic depictions of violence, hurt/comfort, angst, happy endings, reader has a cursed technique (mentioned once), established relationship

word count — 1.3k

author’s note — based on swan song by lana del rey. this is the most self indulgent selfship coded thing i’ve ever written but i needed to give gojo the happy ending he deserved idc if its cheesy or out of character

He’s dead.

Dead.

The strongest. Dead. 

Satoru Gojo is dead.

A flash, then his body becomes two — legs here, torso there. 

He’s not moving. Scarlet splatters the ground, blooms like a lily. 

The air is disgustingly thick, and it hangs like a noose, and it cuts your throat. Nobody is breathing. Everybody knows. 

This time, he’s not getting back up. 

A scream claws its way out of your throat, vicious as it pierces through the air. 

Someone else is stepping up to replace him already, a sorcerer with hair like seafoam. The King of Curses turns towards him, his stolen face twisting into a demonic grin, dripping with victory.

Right now there’s just one thing on your mind. Like instinct, like it’s your destiny. You don’t care about the politics, the consequences, the implications of his death. None of it matters.

You just want to be with Satoru.

Your feet are moving. They almost take off, but a steady grip pulls you back. 

“You should leave.” Shoko’s voice quivers as she speaks. You’ve seen her composure crack so rarely that when you do it feels like your first time witnessing it.

Your face is hot, and it’s wet now. Your eyes sting. You don’t try to stop the tears, or even wipe them.

If you were to look up, you’d find eyes full of sorrow and shock and pity—you’re the grieving widow. His students have lost a teacher, his friends have lost a friend. At least I’m not her, they all think, I haven’t lost the love of my life. 

Without another word, without even so much as one final glance at Satoru’s corpse, you leave. You can’t bear to be there any longer. 

The taxi driver does not question why you’re crying. He pretends he does not hear the way you sniffle and gasp for air. He drives you to your home and drives away when you’ve paid him.

You breathe out. Your shoulders sag with relief. You will yourself to stop crying.

He’s in the living room, a thick arm thrown over his eyes as he half-naps. As soon as he hears you enter however, he springs up, beaming like the sun. 

Satoru laughs a little at your puffy face and your glimmering eyes. He gathers you into a hug, his body hard and imposing and warm, and you cling to him. His heart pumps blood around his body and it’s loud in your ears.

“That was traumatic,” you say, but it gets muffled when you bury your face into his chest. He smells fresh, like the wind on a warm day. He must have showered since he teleported home. 

Satoru’s laughing again. You wish he’d never stop. “You knew it was fake the whole time, how bad could it be?”

“I had to watch you die, Satoru! It was horrible even if it was fake,” you admit, tightening your arms around his waist, where his torso meets his legs. 

He laughs, and it reverberates in his chest and rumbles through your body. You’re angry. You can’t climb inside of his skin and live there and you’re angry about it. His giant hands draw circles all over your back.

“I’m here, baby. I’m all yours now,” he tells you. For the first time, he means it without any exceptions.

…

“What if you faked your death?”

Satoru’s head whips over to look at you, scanning your face to find something that will tell him you’re not serious. But you are serious.

One word, he asks, “why?”

“So we can give up being sorcerers and leave Japan and never come back.”

Satoru grows quiet. There’s a pit in your stomach. He tells you constantly that he’d give you the world, and you believe him, and he loves you more than anything, yet he can’t bring himself to give up on humanity. Without him, the world doesn’t stand a chance. He’s the strongest, after all.

“Is that what you want?” he asks. It’s sincere.

“Yes,” you tell him, swallowing as you consider your next words. “I just got you back from the Prison Realm and now you have to fight Sukuna, who might actually kill you… You just give and give so much to the Jujutsu world and what do they give you back? Shit all. And I’m tired of watching you be wrung dry.” 

He’s silent again. All the years that you’ve known him make it easy for you to know what he’s thinking. More than likely he’s thinking of Yuuji and Megumi and Yuuta. Maybe he wonders what Nanami would tell him to do, or what Geto would say.

It’ll be selfish. He’ll be abandoning everyone at the worst possible moment. He turns your words over and over in his head. Then he thinks of a life with you, a peaceful one, where you’ve left behind your days of sorcery, where he doesn’t have to be some pseudo-god. 

Where he can grow old with you.

Perhaps, he thinks, it’s necessary for him to disappear. It’ll be a struggle without him, but he has faith. They’ll persevere. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks eventually.

“I’ll use cursed energy to create a clone of you. Since my clones can’t use cursed techniques it’ll have to be right when Sukuna is about to kill you. You switch out and teleport out of there.”

For a moment he stares at you, then he chuckles, shifting sideways so he can lay on his back and stare at the ceiling with resolve.

“You’ve been thinking about this,” he says. 

“I have,” you say. “For as long as I’ve loved you.”

…

He thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. 

He’s convinced of it, actually. Life has filled your cheeks out and erased your dark circles away. Your eyes shine brighter. Fear no longer lives in them, nor does hopelessness.

Your fingers are gentle as you pluck fresh, plump tomatoes off the vine. Satoru’s heart swells because you’ve been so excited to harvest them.

“It’s just a handful for now,” you tell him, letting him peer inside the basket you have on your arm. There are a few bunches of rocket and basil leaves, and a small squash too. 

He reaches in, takes a tomato and pretends to take a bite out of it until you snatch it from his hand and scold him. 

“They just look too good, baby,” he says between laughs. You roll your eyes, but you don’t manage to bite back the smile that grows on your lips.

“Go finish building my chicken coop,” you tease, calling him by his last name, the one he took from you, then brushing past him to head back inside your home.

“I told you it’s almost finished!” he exclaims, trailing behind you as you make your way to the vintage renovated kitchen of your house. 

Satoru settles on a stool at the island at the centre, observing the way you rinse the vegetables in the sink. To him it’s fascinating—well, you’re fascinating. The way your brow scrunches slightly with concentration. He hopes you never run out of vegetables to harvest and wash. He’ll make sure you don’t.

“By the way, what do you think about getting some mini goats?”

“I don’t care as long as you take care of them,” you tell him. “Do you want salad or roasted vegetables for lunch?”

Satoru’s heart races. He’s transported back to 2006 for a moment, when for some reason he wanted to be around you all the time and thought it was weird that he liked it when you teased him. Before he realised.

“Roasted vegetables, please. I love you.”

Satoru doesn’t look much different now. He’s gotten a little more toned, put on some muscle from some of the heavy work he does on the farm. 

And when he smiles, he’s not pretending anymore. 

[seonghwaddict]

★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 001 ] over my dead body.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of... interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. suggestive comments, swearing, wooyoung being an annoying piece of shit. word count. 1.1k

　　　　　　　　chapter i // chapter ii

"The groups have already been decided and the list can be found on the bulletin outside. See you all next week." And with that, your professor walked out of the studio and left your classmates scrambling to get out of class and find the list.

All things considered, your day could have been worse. Yes, you'd gone to bed at 5 am and woken up at 7 to your housemate blasting music in the bathroom as she showered. Though, that was a daily occurrence, being mad over it just didn't make sense anymore. Yes, when you got into the shower and turned on the water without paying attention to the heat dial, you pretty much burned off your skin. Yes, on the way to the art department you had dropped one of the paintings you've been working on for over a month, getting mud all over the bottom half of the artwork.

But, nevertheless, it could've been a lot worse.

As you gathered the used paintbrushes next to your easel, you thought about who could be your partner for this collaborative project with the dance majors. Professor Yun just spent about ten minutes informing you and your peers that the art majors were to pair up with a dance major to create an artwork. The specifics—such as whether it'll be a painting or collage or other media—were completely up to the students.

You holstered your bag on your shoulder, finally leaving the art studio to see who you were paired with. Maybe it'll be Suncha, possibly the most beautiful girl you'd ever seen. You could definitely see yourself working with her. She moved with grace and would probably be the best subject you could ever wish for. Maybe Daehyun—you'd always found his face and body aesthetically pleasing.

The crowd in front of the bullet slowly dissipated and people found their partners in the crowd, already making conversation and talking about the project. With a slight sense of dread but a pinch of anticipation, you stepped up to the list and scanned it, quickly finding your name next to-

Oh you've got to be kidding me.

Nevermind, this was definitely one of the worst days you'd ever experienced. Because right next to your name, stood a name associated with one of the eight most sought-after men on your campus.

Jung Wooyoung.

They'd never done anything to you personally, but you just weren't a fan of the way they'd go from girl to girl without being ashamed or being called out. Granted, you weren't sure if all eight of them behaved like that (though this particular Jung Wooyoung did), you still disliked them (except for one of them, but you'd never admit that). Maybe it was how they were practically handed everything they needed at any given moment on a silver tray. Or how ridiculously good looking they were. Either way, something about them just felt... off.

An arm being slung over your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts of just ending your life right then and there. Without even looking at the person, you already had a suspicion of who it could be.

"Hey there, partner," He stepped in front of you, hand lingering on your shoulder for a second longer than you'd like. A mischievous smile graced his features, "I don't think I've ever talked to you. What's your name, pretty?"

"It's on the paper right behind you." You deadpanned, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

For a second, Wooyoung's eyes hardened before that playful glint returned. "I know, but I'd like to hear you say it. After all, I don't want to be pronouncing it wrong."

With a sigh, you gave him your name and he repeated it, testing the sound of it on his tongue. Seemingly satisfied, he returned to your side with a hum and once again slung his arm over your shoulders, steering you toward the exit of the arts department and practically dragging you with him.

Along the way, you passed multiple clusters of girls and boys, some of them watching Wooyoung with admiration and lust in their eyes while others simply glared at you out of jealousy. Feeling their stares, your head turned to the ground and you screwed your eyes shut, wishing it was Daehyun dragging you. Not this painfully pretty, charming man that you couldn't stand.

"So," Wooyoung started—though he never really stopped talking, "I was thinking, if you don't have any courses or stuff for the rest of the day, you can come over to my place and we can start working on whatever it is we have to do."

"I told my roommate I'd be back early to clean our apartment."

"Oh, then I can come with you, help you and then you can come to my place."

"Why not just do it at my place?"

"That's fine, too. Maybe you can show me to your bedroom?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you had to hold back the urge to smack him right then and there.

"Over my dead body."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not really into necrophilia."

It was then that you noticed you were walking towards the campus' parking lot. You stopped in your tracks and waited for Wooyoung to turn.

"Ok, first of all, what the fuck. But I guess I'm glad that's not your thing. Second, what are you doing? Where are you taking me?"

He blinked. Once, twice. "I'm taking you to my car...?"

"Why?"

"To take you to my place so we can work?" He looked behind him and then back to you, his dark hair bouncing around and revealing the bleached layers underneath.

"But I have stuff to do." You crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to your right leg as you looked up at him. He wasn't that much taller, but because of his proximity, it was hard to look him in the eyes without craning your neck just a bit.

A chuckle (though it sounded more like a giggle) escaped him. "The dishes and vacuum can wait. I'm only available for the next two hours, after that you're free to do whatever you want."

You took a second to mull things over before dropping your head and groaning. "Fine but–"

"Great!" Wooyoung grabbed your hand and resumed pulling you across the parking lot. "Let's get going, maybe the food Seonghwa-hyung made will still be warm when we get there and–"

"Wait!" You tugged on the hand that held yours harshly, making him stop to look back at you with a raised brow. "But... no funny business. Please."

He let out another high pitched laugh. "Oh, YN, my dearest darling YN, I don't plan on doing anything like that with you. Today, at least. Though if you'd like-"

"No!" You extended a hand to stop him from finishing that sentence, cheeks blushing dark crimson. "Please just- just lead the way."

That specific mischievous grin returned to his face as he whipped around and practically skipped to his black Mercedes with tinted windows. You didn't stop to appreciate the car, getting into the passengers seat and strapping the seatbelt on.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter!! any guess as to who the ateez member is that YN likes more than the others? hint: it's not wooyoung. also, i'm basing each of the mebers' looks off of different eras. in case you couldn't tell, we will be dealing with oreo wooyoung here.

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @legohwas @moonsangie @kiss-hwa @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @r1kitti @sarahleighflora @kyukyustar

　　NEVER SAY NEVER　©　seonghwaddict, 2023

[aheathen-conceivably]

Dearest Zelda,

First let me say what a joy it was to receive your latest letter! Truly I was so delighted upon seeing it in the mailbox that I ran straight for Isaiah. He is not one to worry, but when our latest contact to the address we had for you in New Orleans once again went unanswered, I fear even he had begun to grow concerned. 

I am delighted to read that your silence was not without good reason, and to see the wedding portrait you sent of you and Antoine as well as the photo of your daughter. How she has grown since we last saw her! She is not much younger than our eldest now, who I fear every day is so like your brother there is simply no one thing in this world that can tame her.

It does sound like your Violette is much the same, and how much joy it brings me to think that perhaps it is Florence’s spirit manifesting through them.

Our youngest have also begun to grow like weeds, much to my chagrin. Does it ever seem like sometimes you awaken and it’s as though the grass has grown a foot overnight? That is oft how I feel looking at them, and Rosalie seems to desire all the independence of her namesake. 

She wasn’t but a day over six when she began poking into Rosella’s old room, curiously pulling forth toys and books from the gathered dust like a miniature treasure hunter. Truthfully, I could not tell you why your brother and I had yet to bring the room back into the light of day. Once you took the portrait from it it was like a pall had lifted, but I feared that stirring it would upset your brother’s long-standing grief over your mother, so I daren’t say a word. 

But as children often do, Rosalie saw little of that other than a space to call her own, and we have now finally found the heart through her to give it a new life. I do hope your sister would love to see her in there, playing dolls and writing grand romantic stories for them aloud to her ever attentive twin. It is a joy to see them rediscover the beauty in the world that pain often hides, is it not?

Have you written to Virginia as well? I fear she may not be quite as conscious of the time that has gone by. With the dissolution of The Women’s Political and Social Union, her work has turned increasingly to involvement with the Women’s Labor League, eventually coming to the attention of the Labor Party themselves. 

I will admit that I am not as informed on the goings on of London as I perhaps should be, but even still it came as no surprise when the party nominated her as their candidate for Member of Parliament. As she so painstakingly explained it, the party itself has suffered great losses from their prominence in the 20s, what with the general bias of their associations with the communists and their seeming inability to stop the rampant unemployment that has taken hold even here. 

I suppose she is fully aware that this was the cause for her nomination, as she was able to run more on the merit of her charitable associations than the negative reputation the party has recently taken on. Yet if she was surprised that this platform worked, she has never let on; but her work in the House of Commons has all but taken over her life since her election in 1931. How I do miss her and Wally, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing that she keeps her seat in the upcoming election of ‘35, even if it means we will see less of them than ever.

I imagine that what little free time she has is now spent nearby at Oxford, where Wally was accepted upon his graduation from secondary school. While I’m sure being the son of a governing member of parliament was not a mark against him, I have no doubt he was accepted there on the merits of his intelligence alone. Even from the small amount of time he spent here in his teen years, it was clear to me what a bright boy he was. 

I am told he is majoring in physics there, a field that even in the briefest explanations Virginia has given me is quite beyond my comprehension. I suppose what else are we to expect with Virginia as his mother? I’m sure he’s had but the most informative, intellectual upbringing, even when it must have been colored by the high expectations that I can only imagine your sister set for him.

Despite her near constant work and best attempts to shield her vulnerability, there are moments when we speak and it seems as though Wally's departure brought forth much of the buried sentimentality within her. I suppose under it all she is but a mother like us all, proud of her child and yet sorrowful as his life grows beyond her own.

Before I sign off your brother has instructed me to ask you to include the most minute of details regarding your predicaments with the soil in your next letter. He has also asked me to attach a veritable field guide of advice, although I have told him that everything you have written points to the fact that you are in waters we could not navigate any better even if we tried.

I must admit that when I hear the word soil I think simply of the ground beneath verdant green grasses or darkened Bramblewood canopies. It makes me realize just how little of the world I have seen, but also how lucky we have been even in the throes of what seem to be such tumultuous times. I can only hope that such good fortune will last in England for many years to come, and that some of our knowledge may bring success to your efforts as well.

I must once again thank you for the photo of you and Antoine on your wedding day. We’ve placed it in our living room next to the photo of your mother and father when they were wed, as seems only right. In return I have also included a photo of all of us when we were last together to visit Wally’s new home in Oxford; although I’ll be the first to admit I do hope we spend the next high holiday together in Henford instead. Anything that close to London makes me long for the forest more than anything else.

Your mother once told me that she sent you every photo we took, and that you have been collecting them over the years. I hope this can make a welcome addition to such a tradition, and do always know that you are welcome here should you ever find need of solace in the place you once called home. 

Your sister in marriage,

 Summer Darlington

[bananami]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

characters: dabi x reader (x hawks sort of)

synopsis: you've never "finished" before and apparently dabi is the first person you thought to ask to help rectify that issue. somehow hawks gets roped into all of this, and not even in the way he wishes. poor hawks. maybe next time bby. (2k)

warnings: 18+/mdni, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE LAST SEASON, anyways onto the good stuff - fingering, masturbation, a LOT of dirty talk, dabi says fuck a lot, implied threesome, recording and technically sexting, praise kink AND degradation kink, dabi is a little mean at certain points, somewhat implied yandere on hawks and dabi's end if you squint, reader is referred to with feminine pronouns and terms, reader is implied to have female anatomy

a/n: this took on a whole ass life of it's own. seriously hawks was never going to be a part of this but then I thought hmmm that could work. SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AFTER THIS. i am not responsible for what you read. you are responsible for the media that you choose to consume. i've given ample warnings on content and spoilers. if you're sticking around, HAVE FUN. and no i did not proof read this... xxx

"You want me to do what?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Then I'm not gonna teach you."

"Touya!" You whined. "C'mon, I never ask you for anything- don't give me that look, I don't! I've never enjoyed it, I'm not asking you to show me, just maybe give me some pointers."

Dabi opens his phone to scroll through anything he can to distract himself from the effects of the conversation. It's bad enough hearing you talk about sex, let alone having to make eye contact with you at the same time. "Doll, I hate to break it to you, but if I'm being honest, it's probably got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you tend to date morons who think that if they grope around enough the clit will magically appear."

You scrunched your nose. "That was crass."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pokes at your forehead, knocking you off kilter and falling back onto the other side of the couch, before going back to scrolling through his phone. "You want me to help you get off and you think me mentioning the clit is crass? Make it make sense."

You wished he wouldn't word it that way, even if it technically was exactly what you were asking from him. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to show me how to do anything, I just a little advice to make it better."

"It takes two to tango, baby. You being good at it doesn't mean they will be. You're putting it all on yourself and you can't do that."

"Ok..." you pause for a moment, gathering the courage to even whisper the next few words that cross your lips, "what about when I do it myself?"

That makes Dabi pause, his attention drawn immediately away from his phone and back onto you. "What do you mean when you do it yourself?"

You huff, getting slightly irritated with his line of questioning, as though it isn't obvious what you're saying. "Ok look, we've been friends for a long time and there's no one else that I trust enough to have this conversation with." Your fingers together as you attempt to keep eye contact with him while speaking. "I have a hard time...finishing."

"Why?" There it was. No judgment, no laughing, no making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Dabi was straightforward and you knew that no matter what you asked, he would find a way to accommodate for you.

"I don't know," you admit, "it's like I get right there and think it's gonna happen and then it just doesn't."

Dabi is silent for a long time. He looks lost in his head, leaving you unsure on what to say. When he finally speaks it leaves you with a bit of relief. Because he again sounds genuinely curious. Although a little strained.

Unbeknownst to you, that may be because of the raging hard on Dabi is trying to keep from getting any worse or more noticeable.

"What are you using?"

"I've tried literally everything. I even bought one of those cute little vibrators from that place you and Keigo always talk about."

Fuck. That's the last thing he needed to hear. Wait until he told Hawks. He'd probably kick Dabi's ass for not calling him immediately. He'd probably do a lot worse after finding out what Dabi was about to offer without shooting the fucker an invite.

"Maybe you just need someone to walk you through it."

"What, like...like you do it for me."

"Like I'll tell you what to do, and if that still doesn't work then we can improvise."

You sit stock still, wondering what this would mean for your friendship with Dabi if you were to go through with it. But he was offering, he wouldn't do that if he thought it would be a bad idea. Would he?

No.

No, you trusted Dabi. That's why you came to him for this. And if he thought this was a good idea, then it had to be.

So you shook your head. You swore his eyes turned five shades darker.

"Lay down."

You do as your told almost immediately, and it doesn't go without acknowledgement.

"Good girl, I'm not gonna touch you just yet, I'm just gonna help you out of these. That alright, baby?" And you shake your head without any hesitation this time.

Dabi's finger skim the top of your jeans until they find the button to undo them. He pulls them do slowly, your panties with them, until they're completely off your legs. He drops your jeans to the floor but your eyes widen just a bit when he brings your panties to his nose and he takes a deep breathe. The embarrassment hits you full force. He slips them into his pocket, and you just know you're not getting them back.

"Open those legs and let me see you, doll." Clearly you don't move fast enough, because Dabi grabs both of your ankles to pull them apart, setting one leg up over the top of the couch, and the other bent in the opposite direction, your foot and ankle laid against his lap.

"Show me what you usually do, pretty girl. Put on a show for me."

You don't know how you can be both so embarrassed and confident at the same time, but it's something about his words that make you feel so much at once. Your fingers begin their usual dance against your skin, and it does nothing but spur him on.

"There you go, pretty baby just needs some guidance doesn't she? Fucking rub your clit for me, just how you like it, show me."

Your fingers rub against your clit, and it makes your body hot having his eyes right on your most sensitive parts. You can feel it building inside you, heightening when his eyes find yours and he smirks. "What do you want? Need me to tell you how pretty that pussy is? You want some praise, you little slut? A little degradation? You like when I call you my good little slut? I bet you fucking do. Shove two fingers into the pussy, let me see you take them."

Your head is fuzzy as you do what he says. Your fingers aren't very long, but they get enough of the job done. Dabi's words do more of the work than anything.

"Fuck, listen to the wet cunt, pull your fingers out, rub your clit again. That's right, baby, make a mess for me."

You keep at it for a while, but it's not until you get to the closest you've ever been to cumming that you realize it's not gonna work. You can feel it, and you want it so bad you're practically crying, but there's just something missing.

Dabi catches on quickly. "No go, baby?" He teases you. "You need to cum so bad, don't you?" You can't do anything but keep moving your fingers and shaking your head.

He lets you go a little longer, savoring the tears glistening in your eyes. And then he's pulling at your wrist, yanking your hand up toward his face, and wrapping his lips around your fingers. The same two that were just inside you.

The audible gasp that falls from your mouth does nothing to quell the growing excitement inside him. He's licking your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls them from his mouth, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Any of those shitty little boyfriends get a taste straight from the source?" You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he rolls his eyes. "Your pussy, any of them ever eat it? Or did they skip the foreplay? The look on your face is telling me all I need to know. Their loss, doll. Taste so fucking good, could spend hours with my tongue inside you."

It's his fingers ghosting over your clit that makes you almost choke. You have to shove your hand against your mouth to keep from being too loud.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dabi's voice is practically seething, "let me hear every fucking noise I make come from those lips. Made me wait this fucking long, you owe me that."

Your hand is forcibly removed from your hand and pinned at your side.

"Keep it there." He commands. And then two of his fingers are slipping inside of you. "Such a fucking cocktease, you know that? Have me and Keigo practically drooling over you and you wanna choose a bunch of fuckboys instead? They can't even get you off. Now you're coming to me wanting to cum. Fuck you. Beg."

"Please, please, please," you don't hesitate. And all of a sudden all you can think about is Keigo. And Dabi. And Keigo and Dabi. "Need to, please, please-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing. So fucking tight. What are you thinking about, huh? Is it because I mentioned Keigo." You can't help it. "There you go again, baby, does he make you wet too? I bet you wish he was here to help too."

It's a fleeting thought, but Dabi can't help himself. Hawks would be pissed if he missed this. He tries facetime, but no answer. Sorry fuck. The next best thing will have to do.

Dabi pulls up his camera and hits record at the same time that his fingers curl and he snaps, bordering on too much and not enough.

"That's right, want it dripping all down my hand. Cry for me, little mouse, let me see those tears." His thumb plays with your clit as he focuses the camera right on the place where you and him meet. "Can't tell you how many times him and I have had to jack each other off to the thought of your pussy."

You choke on your tears, "Touya-"

"Need you to come all over my fingers, baby. Show Keigo how good I'm making you feel. You'll let him help out next time, won't you?" You don't understand why, but your brain is so foggy, and you nod vigorously, maybe to agree, maybe to clear your head, it didn't really matter at this point. "Yeah? You'll let him eat that little pussy, right? He's been dying for a taste. Is that what you want, you want us to share you?"

The thought of them sharing you is what does it. Dabi swears he's never heard a more beautiful noise than the sounds you make when you orgasm. He doesn't let up, his fingers still relentless inside you. You almost panic when you begin to feel the next wave pass over you, similar but different from the last one.

"He can lick your pretty cunt while I pound into you, hmm. Or maybe I'll let him have your pussy first since he missed out today, so long as I get to take your ass while he does. Or you think you can squeeze the both of us inside this tight pussy? A little effort, but I bet we can make it work, doll." The chuckle that leaves him is almost sadistic, and all of a sudden, you feel your body snap.

"Look how she squirts," you hear him saying, "pussy's a fucking dream." He lands a slap against it that makes you flinch from how oversensitive you feel, and hits send on the video.

The next couple of minutes are spent in silence, except for Dabi, who is whispering things like did so good, perfect for both of us, such a good girl.

Dabi makes sure your cleaned, having to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, where he sits you against the countertop and begins running a rag over the inside of your thighs. It's distracting enough that you don't hear the vibration of his phone against the granite counter.

His smirk only grows at the message that lights across the screen.

Hawks: dICK

Hawks: im gonna kick your ass

Hawks: i'll be right over

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: hi hello i wasn’t expecting to write barzy long fic but those damn musician mat photos KILLED me. also yes, i started this fic literally the day after the photos were posted but here we are. it needed major editing and also i need to like sit on it for a bit before posting. ANYWAY it’s here and i’m happy with it? i hate the title but whatever, it is what it is. enjoy and let me know what you think!! 🫶🏻

word count: 4.3k

tw: semi-public fingering but doesn’t go all the way, public thigh grinding

summary: hanging out in a dive bar on long island, the last thing you expect to see is mat with a guitar over his shoulder, joining the cover band on stage

When you look up from responding to a text and Mat’s nowhere to be found, you’re not really that surprised. He does this a lot - gets distracted and wanders off. Occasionally, he’ll be cornered by a fan, smiling gamely for a selfie and chatting for a bit. Every once in a while he gets roped into a game of pool, chatting with the random men like he’s known them for years. Once in a bar in the city, and this one nearly killed you, he struck up a conversation with Aaron Tveit - your favorite Broadway star and secretly a man that you absolutely would use a hall pass on - without realizing that he was talking to someone more famous in certain New York circles than he is.

All this to say, Mat disappearing in the bar isn’t a totally unprecedented occurrence.

You set your phone back down on the high top table and lean a shoulder against the wall next to you, crossing your legs at the ankle and taking a sip of your High Noon. It’s warm-ish now, starting to taste more artificial, and you look over your shoulder at the bar, scrutinizing the crowd that’s gathered and waiting for the bartender to notice them. It’s not worth it to leave the table since it’ll be snatched up in a second, so you flip your phone over and use your index finger to tap out a quick message to Mat asking him to get you another drink when he gets back from wherever he wandered off to - at this point you’re assuming there’s a major line for the men’s room. The little blue bubble floats up and shows it was delivered. Satisfied, you lean back against the wall, scooping your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand and holding it in a lazy ponytail so your neck can cool off a bit.

Long Island is a humid, swampy mess, August slipping away into a moment in time, as Queen Taylor says. But September is doing her damnedest to remind everyone that she’s still a summer month too.

Not that you mind, having been born and raised on Long Island and intimately familiar with the weather extremes, but it’s particularly gross in the bar tonight. Sweaty bodies packed in for the 90s alt cover band that’s supposed to be playing tonight. They’ve played at the bar before and they’re pretty good you have to admit, but right now you’re just wishing for a little bit of a breeze.

Giving up on your hair, you twist it up into a messy knot, securing it with a thin black elastic that’s seen better days. Three loops around thick hair, and you know it’s going to snap before the night is over, but you can’t worry about that now. There’s immediate relief from pulling your hair off your neck and now you can focus on the fact that Mat’s actually been missing for more than a few minutes. You tap your phone screen, looking for a message, but there’s nothing from him, just a few messages in the girls’ group chat talking about Monday night’s poker event. Wrinkling your nose, you look around the bar again, trying to see if you can spot your boyfriend.

It’s too dark though, Mat’s hair and black tee would blend in with the crowds. After a few more minutes of looking, you give up, rolling your eyes and muttering to yourself, “he better not have found Aaron Tveit again,” before taking another sip of your High Noon. The spark of grapefruit flavour hits the back of your tongue and you pinch your lips together, swiping at your lower lip with the tip of your tongue. Drops of condensation roll down the can, making your hand wet and you wipe your palm on the fabric of your dress, already a little sticky with sweat.

Bored without Mat, you reply to the group chat and scroll through Instagram, double tapping on a photo Sofia posted of Olivia and commenting a string of heart eyes emojis. While you’re on your phone, the band takes the stage, a group of older men that have clearly been on the circuit for a while now. You start to swipe over to the phone app, ready to call Mat and find out where he went, when another man comes out onto the stage - this one much younger, much more handsome, and much more familiar to you.

“What?” The shocked gasp falls out of your mouth and either you’re louder than you thought or Mat just has radar to tell where you are at any given moment, because he looks over as he’s adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder and winks at you, his mouth curling up in that familiar cocky smirk you know and love.

Mat’s been fooling around on the guitar for years now and he’s gotten half-way decent in that time, but you had no idea he was feeling confident enough to play in front of a packed bar. Or that he knew the band well enough to ask or be asked to join.

The lights over the stage dim and brighten simultaneously and the band gets into position, drumsticks clicking together to signify the start of the set. In your excitement and rush to grab your phone so you can record Mat, you nearly knock over your drink, catching it at the last second. Mat grins at you again and tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, looking down at the guitar to position his fingers. You cover your mouth with your free hand to muffle the excited noises that start when the band begins to play - you want to make sure that the video you record has Mat’s playing, not your squeaks and cheers. He looks a little nervous at the start, focused intently on her fingers and the guitar strings, but as the song goes on, Mat gets more into it and relaxes.

The phone shakes in your hand a little from your excitement and the inevitability of you bouncing a bit on the balls of your feet as you get into the music too. Mat’s hair falls over his forehead and curls around his ears, long at his neck, and a flush of heat spreads through your stomach. He’s stupidly attractive up on stage, playing his guitar, and you’re ready to jump him. You lean up a little on your toes to get a better angle, the hem of your dress fluttering around your thighs. Mat looks up while he plays and spots you again. You move your hand from your mouth and grin brightly at him. He responds with another delighted smirk, shaking his hair out of his face.

Around you, the crowd is into the cover, singing along when they know the lyrics and dancing in that lazy way people dance in dive bars. You catch a few mentions of Mat’s name, eyes landing on a handful of younger girls that are staring openly at him and recording. You bite down on your lower lip to prevent the self-satisfied smirk from forming. There’s something extremely satisfying knowing that all these girls are thirsting over Mat, but you get to go home with him.

Mat shakes his hair back again and scrunches his nose up while he plays and the girl closest to you nearly yelps, “fuck, he’s so hot with that hair.”

Her friend chimes in with, “it’s giving Nathan Scott season four minus the depression.”

The first girl replies, “it’s going to be such a crime when he has to cut it for the season.” She’s not wrong - you always hate when Mat does the Lou-approved chop at the end of the summer.

You muffle a laugh behind your hand and focus on Mat’s playing. The song winds down and his grin is immediate and genuine. He shakes the hands of each of the guys and claps them on the back before wandering off the stage. You stop the recording and set your phone back down on the table, clapping and cheering along with the crowd. The band starts back up again and you bounce on the balls of your feet, waiting for Mat to find you.

He ducks through the crowds, still grinning, and appears in front of you suddenly. Before he can say a word, you throw yourself at him, locking your arms around his neck and slanting your lips over his. One of Mat’s arms wraps around your lower back, holding you flush against the front of his body. You grin against his mouth - he tastes like peach flavored High Noon, chapstick, and the salt of his sweat. Mat’s tongue swipes against your lower lip, encouraging you to open your mouth and you do, deepening the kiss and twisting your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging gently. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed up by your lips. The kiss lingers and fades out as you pull back for air, but then Mat ducks forward and kisses you softly. Your forehead rests against his and you exhale a little giggle.

“Hi, babe,” he laughs, whole face crinkled up in delight when he pulls back, one arm still looped around your waist. You can feel his hand tremble against your waist, betraying nerves or leftover adrenaline from his stint on stage.

“Oh my god! You loser!” You laugh, pushing at his shoulder with the palm of your hand. Mat grabs your wrist with lightning quick reflexes and flexes his fingers around your wrist, tightening gently before he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss your pulse point. Your breath stutters in your chest, but you continue, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were going to play!”

Still holding your wrist, Mat steps closer and shakes his head. “I wasn’t planning on it. I went to the bathroom, sort of got talking with the band,” he shrugs, “it just happened.”

“It just happened!” you echo on a laugh. “Well you were amazing.”

“Thanks,” Mat ducks his head, ears going a little pink underneath his hair. He releases your wrist and scrapes his hand through his hair, the sweaty strands holding in place. Your back bumps against the wall and you realize Mat’s still crowding your body, one muscled thigh in between your legs. You hook an ankle around his, dragging his leg a little closer and the faint smile on his lips becomes more salacious, hungry. He leans his hand against the wall next to your head, caging you in. Your stomach flips and heat coils low, throbbing between your legs.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip and Mat’s gaze traces the movement, eyes darkening in a familiar way. His palm is flat over the curve of your hip, but his fingers curl up a little, capturing the cotton fabric of your dress and tugging the fabric up a little. A flutter of a breeze hits your upper thigh.

“Maybe you should quit hockey,” you giggle a little, blinking lazily, “and play guitar full time.”

“Yeah?” Mat raises an eyebrow. “Don’t think amateur guitar playing is as lucrative as professional hockey.” His fingers twist in your dress more, making you glad that he has you backed against the wall and blocked with his body. He leans in, pressing his leg against your inner thigh, knocking it out an inch or so, widening your stance. Your entire body flushes with heat and it has nothing to do with the humid bar atmosphere.

Your head lolls back, hitting lightly against the wall, and you hum. “It’s really fucking hot though,” you murmur, tipping your head up so you can press a kiss to the edge of his chin. “All that fingering,” you giggle the innuendo, finding it cheesy even as you say it.

Mat huffs a laugh against your temple. His fingers loosen their grip in the fabric of your dress, letting the damp and sure to be wrinkled fabric fall back against your thigh. “I already have a fingering side-gig,” he informs you, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. He presses the pads of his fingers up against the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp, jolting your hips forward. He strokes the fabric slowly, dropping kisses against your temple and down the side of your face. He works you over through the fabric, sticky arousal collecting between your legs. The lace surely can’t be doing much at this point and Mat’s fingers slide over your inner thighs. His calloused fingertips catch and snag on the lace, stuttering his work and making your clit throb.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna let you touch me after that line,” you laugh, choking off into a little gasp when Mat snaps the elastic of your panties against the crease of your thigh.

“You started it,” he reminds you, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. His forehead touches yours as his fingers continue their exploration, trailing up and dipping under the waistband of your panties. Your stomach clenches when he stops inches from where you really want him and you bump his nose with yours. “You’re not supposed to start things you can’t finish,” he warns, pressing closer to you, sliding his fingers lower. Your skin is hot, sweat beading at your hairline from the effort of keeping your legs from trembling.

You let out a harsh exhale. “Mat,” you mumble his name, grabbing at his wrist with both hands, trying to force his hand lower. He shakes his head against yours and doesn’t budge, your muscle strength no match for his. “We’re in public.” As if to punctuate your sentence, the drummer goes into a solo, the beat of the sticks on the drums pounding in time with your heart.

His fingers curl briefly and then they’re gone, leaving you cold and hot and frustrated. “Okay,” he says, shrugging. There’s an infuriating smirk on his face when you manage to look up. “I’ll behave.” He flips the hem of your dress down and smooths his palm over the fabric.

“I…what…Mat!” You stutter, the throbbing between your legs pounding in time with your heart. “You can’t just…” your voice trails off and you press your thighs together - or try to at least - Mat’s muscled leg is still in between yours and prevents you from giving yourself any relief.

Your absolute menace of a boyfriend holds his index finger - the one that had just been making a home in between your legs and is still wet with your arousal - up to his lips and shushes you. “Shh, I’m trying to listen to the music,” he smirks, sliding his other hand down the wall behind you and wrapping it around your shoulders, easily manhandling you so your back is leaning against his chest while he leans against the wall. You’re so stunned by the delayed pleasure that you don’t resist at all. Mat reaches around you and picks up your half-empty High Noon and knocks it back, holding the can lightly and sliding his arm from around your shoulders to wrap around your waist, forearm pressed against your stomach. His broad palm rests on your opposite hip, blunt nails scratching lightly and absently.

He hums along to the music in your ear and you sink back against his chest, still frustrated, muttering, “I can’t believe you shushed me.” Mat exhales a little laugh and kisses the side of your neck, scraping his teeth against your pulse point. Your head suddenly feels too heavy for your neck and you drop it back against his shoulder, giving Mat easier access to kiss your cheekbone. “Take me home,” you whine quietly, silently willing Mat’s hand to drift lower, but it remains stubbornly planted on the jut of your hip bone.

Mat’s nose bumps against your temple and you catch the scent of his cologne, mixed with the citrusy sweet alcoholic scent of the High Noon on his breath. He lazily rolls his hips forward, the hard bulge of his erection pressing against the curve of your ass. You grind back against him, whining low in the back of your throat. “Mat, please, I wanna go home,” you mumble, the vibration of the music rattling through your chest. Your hands wrap around Mat’s forearm, squeezing. “C’mon, take me to bed.”

“Babe,” Mat’s arm tightens around you, pulling you harder against his erection. You push your ass into him again, nearly grinding over the thigh that’s still in between your legs, desperate for relief. He holds you in place. “Thought we were in public?” His voice is slightly strangled, his breathing hitching when you press back harder, slipping a hand behind your back and in between your bodies. It takes a second, but you manage to wiggle your hand into place, pressing the heel of your palm, hard, against the fly of his jeans. Mat sucks in a sharp breath and he pinches your hip in warning, his head dipping down and his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a matching warning nip. You hiss at the sting of his teeth, knowing there’s going to be a mark there in the morning when he sucks gently at the spot, tracing his tongue over the faint impressions of his teeth.

“We don’t have to be,” you murmur, brushing your knuckles against the ridge of his erection. “You have a very nice car that can get us home in twenty minutes.”

Mat’s breath is harsh in your ear, the empty can in his hand making a crunching noise when he crumples it in his fist. Your arm is starting to go a little numb, twisted behind your back and pressed in between your bodies, and you’re desperately hoping Mat gives up and gives in to what you want soon. His hand flexes over your hip and you grind down on his thigh again, hiccuping a breath at the drag of his jeans and your lacy panties over your swollen clit. Faintly, you wonder if you’re causing a scene, if people are watching you both, but Mat’s hands aren’t anywhere they shouldn’t be and your grind on his thigh could easily be mistaken for drunken dancing.

“Think you can wait twenty minutes, babe?” Mat jerks his hips into your ass, tossing the can back onto the table top and wrapping his other arm around your stomach so you’re caged against him. You wiggle your hand out from behind your back just before it’s completely lost feeling. “Moving pretty good on my thigh,” he bounces it lightly, sending shockwaves up your spine. “Think you could get off like this?”

Yes, is your immediate thought.

You have and can use Mat’s thick, muscled thigh to get yourself off. Most recently two nights ago, lazily grinding yourself over him on the couch while half-heartedly watching a movie. But tonight, with alcohol and lust fogging your brain and the image of Mat’s capable fingers working the guitar strings, you don’t want his thigh.

“Wan’ your fingers,” you turn your head and press the tip of your nose against the side of his neck, nuzzling him. He smells so fucking good. Mat chuckles, kissing your forehead. “You’re so good with your fingers.” Your hands cross your stomach, covering his hands, and you play with his fingers, lacing them with yours.

“You’re good at getting what you want,” Mat grins and you can feel the lift of his cheek against the side of your head. He squeezes you in a hug once, tightly, before loosening his grip. “You gotta walk in front of me to the car, babe. Hide the evidence of what you do to me, don’t wanna get in trouble.”

Your heart kicks up its tempo in your chest and you lift your head from Mat’s shoulder. “Home?” You ask brightly, wiggling and turning in Mat’s arms, your own coming up to loop around his neck.

“Yeah, home,” he laughs, smirking, cupping your cheek with one large hand and dragging your face up to his for a deep kiss. His hips roll mindlessly against yours and you lift higher on your toes to press flush against him, the throbbing between your legs building. When he breaks the kiss off, there’s a mischievous little gleam in his eyes and a slightly mean curl to his lips. “But you don’t get to touch. I’m gonna practice on you, okay, babe?” He taps his fingertips against your cheek, “just these. Gonna practice my finger placement.” Mat’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide with lust, obscuring the usual hazel-green color.

Your head bobbles up and down in an agreeable nod. You’ll agree to almost anything just to get Mat’s fingers inside your throbbing cunt. You also know that he’s a total softie and as much as he tries to act stern and tough, once you get into bed with him it’s only a matter of time before he gives up the act and gives you whatever you want. Honestly, you’re both too horny for each other to really commit to the bit. Plus, you roll your hips up into Mat’s, based on the rock hard erection he’s sporting, you’re not even sure Mat’ll be able to keep to the promise of giving you only his fingers.

His hand slides back from your cheek and tangles in the messy bun knotted at the nape of your neck, gently pulling so your face tilts up. “Let’s get out of here,” he grins, kissing the corner of your mouth and turning you around swiftly, one hand resting on your lower back to push you in front of him and through the crowd. You reach back and tangle your fingers with his free hand, a zap of excitement running up your spine when Mat’s hand slides lower and grabs a handful of your ass.

You’re navigating the crowd with Mat hot on your heels, purposely stepping on the backs of your sandals and laughing when you whip your head around to glare at him. His hand flexes against your lower back, warm through the cotton, and he uses his hand in yours to pull you back slightly so your ass bumps against his groin. “Gotta move a little faster, babe,” he teases.

“You’re a fucking menace, Mathew,” you grumble, a laugh startling out of your chest when Mat finally urges you out the front door and crowds you up against the front of the bar. Heat pools low in your stomach and you lick your lower lip reflexively. Mat grins down at you and ruffles a hand through his hair. It’s messy, the little wings sticking out around his ears and neck, and all you want to do is tangle your fingers in it and pull while he eats you out. And you tell him so, watching with delight as his eyes glaze over a little and his mouth goes slack.

“Why the fuck are we still standing here then?” He asks, voice a little strangled.

A giggle slips past your lips. “You tell me, Van Halen.” Your hands slide up Mat’s arms and over his shoulders so your fingers can twist in his hair. Mat hisses when you tug gently. “Why aren’t we in the car or at home where you can get those talented fingers knuckle deep in me?”

Mat groans your name and drops his forehead to your shoulder, growling a little against your overheated skin. His hands slide to your waist, gripping tightly. You grin wickedly, even though he can’t see it, and tug his hair again. “If you get me home soon, I’ll show off my skills,” you murmur into his ear, tongue darting out to trace the shell of his ear.

“Fuck,” Mat grunts, grabbing your hand and nearly yanking your shoulder out of its socket with the force of pulling you down the street to his parked car. Your giggles echo around the quiet street, the humid air enveloping you and making your hair frizz around your temples. At the car, Mat pushes you up against the side, grasping your chin in one hand and kisses you, hard and bruising, his tongue dipping in your mouth. His other hand slides up your dress and he presses his thumb against your clit, the rasp of the lace on your clit providing extra simulation. Your knees go weak and you moan into his mouth, flattening your palms against the side of the car for stability. A rush of heat floods between your legs and the longer Mat’s lips are on yours, the wetter you get. At this point you’re not sure if it’s sweat or arousal that’s dripping down the inside of your thighs. He slides his tongue over your lower lip and rubs his fingers against your damp panties again, eliciting a strangled noise from the back of your throat.

When Mat breaks the kiss, pulling back from your face and breathing heavily, you blink up at him, completely dazed and lust drunk. He kisses the tip of your nose and squeezes the inside of your thigh and you giggle, unable to stop the words from slipping out of your mouth, “are you gonna play Wonderwall before or after I get my orgasms?”

A laugh barks out of Mat’s mouth and he pinches your ass cheek, making you squeal. “Just for that, it’s gonna be before,” he laughs again, reaching behind you to pull open the passenger door. You fold into the seat, making sure to flash Mat a little before yanking the door shut and grinning at him from behind the window.

“Who’s the menace now, babe?” Mat sticks his tongue out at you, laughing, his eyes dancing with mischief.

“Still you,” you tease back, wrinkling your nose at him, knowing he’s going to be so worked up the more you poke fun at him. “Now get in the car, I’m gonna put Wonderwall on so we can get straight to the fingering practice when we get home.”

[notmorbid]

the verifiers.

dialogue prompts from the verifiers by jane pek.

you look like someone who makes lists for everything.

i'd like to hear your opinion before i tell you mine.

you're too nice for our family.

you act like you don't know me at all.

how strange that i used to worship ____.

we're not friends. we just pretend.

it's not a proper family gathering until everyone is upset.

killed anyone lately?

that's what i aim for: to be just a little less shitty than people expect me to be.

i feel sort of sleazy.

you're right. i haven't been fully honest with you.

i'm still figuring things out. what they might mean.

between deceiving and being deceived, i prefer the second option.

it always surprises me how surprising death is, when it's the one thing that's inevitable.

you don't know shit. don't try to pretend you do.

not all mistakes can be fixed.

neither admit nor deny. that's a very lawyerly approach.

take it, please. i'll feel better.

believing something for its convenience is at best negligence, and at worst culpability.

i don't trust anyone, except you.

how do you know what i like to read?

do you want me to help you take a picture?

it looks like your party's a success.

you're even sneakier than i thought.

i hate being told what to do.

guilt is the currency that our family traffics in.

i feel like i could ask you about anything, and you'd have something interesting to say.

walk it off. nothing hurt, right?

you've never known any of us.

well? aren't you going to say anything?

you never do anything for me.

don't tell me what i can and can't be like.

you don't deserve it. the way ____ loves you.

writers always talk about their characters like they're real.

let's pretend we're tourists.

i've been all fizzy with happiness, ever since we met.

you call it like it is.

i never meant to hurt you.

you can't always pick your weapons in your duels.

it's too late to change anything.

what if we take turns? we can answer each other's questions.

i know the truth is right there, but i can't see it.

here i am, crazy as ever.

all those little lies just make the truth feel worse.

i didn't mean anything by it. i just wanted it all to go away.

i love you, you little brat.

if you ever went away, there would be a hole in my world.

you millennials are unbelievable. all laziness and instant gratification.

i see you couldn't wait to get into more unnecessary danger.

is that a threat or a warning?

if i tell you, i'll have to get rid of you.

this is bigger than you know.

if you go any deeper, forget about getting out.

is there anywhere to eat in this wasteland of a neighborhood?

why do i feel like i've missed something?

did the english major make you such an annoying pedant, or were you always that way?

what's the point of knowing, if you don't do anything about it?

i always knew you were a romantic.

try to grow some balls.

you love me. i'm sure you do.

you become something, if you act that way for long enough.

is a digression into backstory really necessary?

can we get to the action?

you can be very persuasive.

we told each other everything.

you only ask to hang out when you want something from me.

i want someone like you. who isn't you.

are you having a quarter life crisis?

no matter what, you'll be okay. i'll make sure of it.

i'm having a bodysnatcher moment.

this would make a fantastic setting for a murder mystery.

people are constantly mistaking me for someone else.

i wish more people could think like you.

still trying to save the world?

i want the best for you. i always have.

damn, you're ruthless.

maybe i still don't know you at all.

you have to tell me the rest of it.

people tend to hear what they want to hear.

who do you think i want you to be?

[nalyra-dreaming]

I have seen quite a few people state that if the season 1 episode 5 fight isn't resolved to their satisfaction by the end of this season they are done with this show. And my resolved, I mean the drop having not happened at all. And maybe I am the cheese that stands alone, but I guess I just don't get it? I admit I am rather new but I have read up to book 5 and I get that it seems out of character for Lestat, especially considering that it had happened to him, but we are dealing with monsters here so even if it did happen the with the drop, I don't see that as a dealbreaker for this show. I know that the episode was quite triggering for people. That I totally get, especially as I have had to deal with violence myself. But in terms of this show and these characters as monsters in toxic relationships, I didn't find it to be as egregious as people think, especially if we get confirmation that Lestat didn't walk away as clean and unharmed as it appeared he did. What am I missing with that? I gather you have a long history with these characters and books so maybe there is something major I am really missing.

The thing is...

for some it is totally OOC for Lestat to be shown doing this at all, and the DV that was shown tainted it all for them. Because for others... Lestat became the big bad white abuser™️ there, and the sheer mention that it would be revisited and that the tale might not have been as it was shown... ended in accusations of racism, abuse apology, and so on. I wished I was kidding.

Episode 5... divided the fandom. The fact that they always intended to revisit did not mean shit, what the actors and writers and producers said was ignored for the most part, I actually did a rant post a while back about that, which blew up into a big accusation spree wrt me.

And... here we are, as predicted, with Armand having meddled, and the tale... a tale. A story. A misremembered and flawed story.

I have been pointing out the discrepancies for ages. I got a lot of hate for that. I have been called things. There's people screenshotting my page and ranting about me alllll the fucking time.

I'm just pointing that out to illustrate that this is a high emotions topic.

High, high, HIGH. :))

There will be those who will be unhappy with what will happen, for one reason or the other.

There is nothing that can be done about that, the show does its own thing and it has done so from the beginning.

Those who will not like it might leave. That's fine.

Those who continue to love it (like me for example^^), will stay.

Ultimately, that is all there is to it. :)

The books are old, emotions are connected to them. Not everyone likes what the show does. *shrugs*

[sadhornydemons]

Rapid-Spoiler-Season-Speculation: Apology Tour/Ghostf*ckers

Caution: some references are made to other spoilers, so proceed with caution if you wish to avoid.

Apology Tour:

Alright, I'll admit, this episode I think I understand the least, so I'm sure I'm completely off the mark in even attempting to make sense of it.

Cake will be served, and it's clown Blitz version. Heart on an item in the back, heart on the knife. How many years has it been and she's still obsessed?

WHATEVER this is, Blitz didn't just stumble into it, I wonder if some type of invitation got him there.

Blood/red stained sheet for unknown reasons.

I think I'm the only one who preferred the earlier design, but guess I just have a type.

WHAT. DA. FUCK.

Yeah, of course, this is when my imagination starts churning.

Did Stolas reach just the perfect amount of drunk before his Spotify breakup playlist reached Olivia Rodrigo, causing him to throw on last year's Halloween costume and portal himself to his ex so he could express himself properly?

No, Stolas had an entire stage prop production prepared. That or we haven't seen the full extent of his magic conjuring abilities.

(same outfit, I'm keeping my eye on the spiked collar 'cause it's new to his wardrobe)

I don't know what could bring this on. At first, I thought it was a dream sequence, but the spiked collar turns up in a later scene. Maybe I just haven't accepted that my fav character could be an asshole?

Screenshots of Blitz, sheet is now a hoodie, we really don't know what he's looking at in this particular scene.

I don't think this is a full scale concert, though. Probably more of a private event. Maybe Verosika was planning a gathering of the 'We Hate Blitzo' fanclub, but Stolas was the only one to RSVP.

If it is, a public concert, I mean, I can just imagine the headlines:

Prince Stolas shocks audience members by appearing as the opening act in Verosika Mayday's concert, preforming his original ballad, 'Imp Dicks Aren't Worth the Heartbreak'.

And if it is a regular event, there's the possibly Blitz attended on purpose..to apologize about things? (hence the title) I don't know, it just all seems too weird.

As poster bleucaesura noted, Stolas is on his couch in this scene. The red stained sheet, presumably with Blitz under, stand before him. Stolas's collar is spiked, so this seems to happen after the musical number.

This is mainly all the info we have this episode, but looking ahead to future ones, I'm thinking this is gonna conclude the majority of the Stolitz angst. Or at least the current ones.

As many have noted, this season has been following a pattern of focusing on, and occasionally resolving Blitz's relationship problems. Unhappy Campers introduced Barbie properly, adding more details to the fire incident. Oops and Mammon's Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special added to that by focusing on him and Fizz. Full Moon and Apology Tour seem to be based around Stolas and then both Stolas and Verosika, fitting since it's comparing people from his love life.

Hence, I believe the next episode will instead prioritize Blitz's relationship with M&M:

Ghostfuckers:

The IMP mobile is totaled and appears spray painted. Therefore, guessing this scene must take place first:

But what would cause "a life on the run", as Blitz puts it, unless he wasn't completely serious?

And I'm not sure if the hooded folks, "Come out, we've got your surrounded." scene was edited in before this or not.

There are those clouds in the background and it seems to call for a more scary scene, or at least until he checks his watch.

(actually those could all take place in previous episode or the ones to come, for all we know!)

Blitz wears a bad disguise rather than using an asmodean crystal. We could read too much into that because maybe Blitz just LIKES coming up with disguises, but in other spoilers, we see Blitz using a book for portals.

The enemy is doing bad things to the character's mental health, bringing about their worse fears. In reference to Blitz, I wonder if this is this is where those scenes come into play:

Interesting how it's edited like Blitz watching a filmstrip of his life, complete with a decorative frame.

Shown in a different style, I wonder if this flashback will also be used:

And, (if my earlier theory is wrong), this has to appear somewhere:

We see a flashback to a younger, longer hair Millie (not unlike her wedding photo):

(and it looks like outside a ship? Hey, maybe pirates really did have port windows!)

Which may be used to match up with this fight:

This, however, is hopefully, just another hallucination:

Okay, for the rest of this episode, one can't really speculate because the (looks both ways cautiously) storyboards leaked last year reveal a good chuck of the action and dialogue. So without getting TOO into that, for those who want to avoid getting too spoiled, I'll conclude this episode may turn out to be a fun, scary, but with admittedly triggering subjects, that showcase Blitzø's messy and occasionally obsessive relationship with Moxxie and Millie.

...and possibly new issues with Loona? Something is hinted out, but I might get into THAT speculation in the last two episodes.

[kikithedeceiver]

MILGRAM - Mukuhara Kazui should be INNOCENT/FORGIVEN

I’m not very vocal online anymore and prefer to vibe to whatever I’m into. But this man’s MV came out on my birthday, solidifying my view about him, and I want to give my own view on why he should be seen as INNOCENT/FORGIVEN for his crime since his verdict is near 50/50, but getting closer to GUILTY/UNFORGIVEN as the days pass.

Just a heads up, I’m also open for other interpretation on why Kazui should be INNOCENT/FORGIVEN or GUILTY/UNFORGIVEN. I love hearing other’s opinions on these. 

Also going to just use FORGIVE and UNFORGIVE now. I prefer the literal term instead of the black-and-white choice of GUILTY and INNOCENT.

Honestly, I still don’t understand why fans want to vote Kazui as UNFORGIVEN. From what I have gathered so far, people are voting him UNFORGIVEN because he might have been tactless when he confessed to his wife, Hinako, and voting him FORGIVEN does nothing for him and the story MILGRAM poses. Or, just for the hell of it because lolz.

I...won’t get into that part too deeply. Mostly it’s a joke and I don’t want to take a series too seriously. But c’mon for those who actually see the guy as forgivable, y’know?

1) Kazui was tactless when he confessed to Hinako

Anyways, for the opinion that Kazui was tactless when he confessed to his wife, I have to disagree. Remember, Milgram extracts the mental images from the prisoners based on their thoughts and how they feel and believe during the time the MVs are made. A case in point is Mahiru’s ‘I Love You’ MV, which kept showing how beautifully loving she was with her boyfriend, but she can also see that it might have been toxic from her ignorance.

What I’m saying is that Kazui might be pushing for the UNFORGIVEN verdict because he thinks, or even wants to show us, that it was his fault. He wants us to believe that he was tactless when he confessed to Hinako. I mean, he doesn’t see himself as normal (most likely he is a closet gay). Maybe even a monster because of what happened to Hinako when he confessed he lied.

From all we know, maybe this is what happened. Or this is what he thinks happened and Hinako’s reaction in the MV was exaggerated because of his guilt he carries. People can view things that happened in a different way, it all comes down to perspective, in the end. Afterall, in the end, Kazui felt guilty for what happened to Hinako, and even put back on the mask at the end of HALF and, according to his 2nd voice drama, confessed he would have rather continued lying if it meant she would have lived.

2) Kazui should be voted GUILTY/UNOFRGIVEN for his character and MILGRAM

This is an interesting take, I’ll admit. However, I have to disagree. And I have a lot of reasons, so sit tight.

First of all, this is based on how I feel and why I vote Kazui as /FORGIVEN. Like how the majority doesn’t see Yuno’s crime as murder, I don’t see Kazui’s crime as one either. His confession was never intended to harm Hinako as the outcome anyway. He was tired of lying, and tried to be truthful for once, and it backfired spectacularly in his face thanks to it, thus causing him to wear the mask again and wished he continued lying instead. This is one of those happened in the wrong place at the wrong time situation. Maybe if he was truthful at maybe a safer location (away from the balcony), then the outcome would have ended with no bloodshed.

Also, all of MILGRAM’s prisoners are murderers, yes, but they’re murderers that sort of make you question if they are one or not. Can ignorance that leads to the death of a partner be murder? Is organ harvesting from a brain-dead patient a murder? If someone followed orders to kill, are they a murderer?

So if someone confessed to a lie they’ve been saying for so long and resulted in someone dying from it, is that murder?

To me, no. It was just the worst result that Kazui never intended to happen.

Also, I don’t get why people are voting Kazui as FORGIVEN when he’s basically the same as Mahiru. They both have partners they never intended to harm from the beginning - being truly in love or not. The only difference is that Mahiru was ignorant of how her love affected her boyfriend, while Kazui put up with the lie for the sake of what’s ‘normal’ in love, and he tried to stop the lie, and, again, it failed on him big time. So like how Fuuta and Kotoko are similar in their crimes, Mahiru and Kazui are the same as well. 

Also voting Kazui as UNFORGIVEN sounds like it will backfire like how it did with Mahiru and Amane in Trial 1. Now I only got into the series when I stumbled onto Muu’s 2nd MV, but from what I heard, and correct me if I’m wrong, people voted Amane as UNFORGIVEN back then because it was to make her ‘realise her sins’. And the result is a crazed Amame because of it.

Now I don’t believe Kazui will go batshit crazy like Amane if we vote him UNOFORGIVEN for this trial, but something tells me it will backfire more if we don’t vote him as FORGIVEN. By saying he’s in the wrong, especially if we’re correct on what he was lying about, it’s like we’re denying him because we reached that truth, and he should be punished for it. By denying him, we’re basically doing the same thing like what happened to Mahiru and Amane as well.

Also, yes I’m aware from a meta-perspective that it’s better to have him FORGIVEN because he’s the only one who can go up against Kotoko (and maybe including Amane and Mikoto), and maybe stop Haruka from offing himself after this trial ends. And I agree! This is also one of the reasons why I say to forgive him to protect others in MILGRAM. However, it is sort of safe to say that no one will die if Kazui is voted UNFORGIVEN. I mean from a storytelling perspective, it will be a waste to kill off the characters and make the last trial shorter because of it...

But! I still don’t want any other prisoners harmed because of Haruka, Amane, Mikoto and Kotoko if Kazui is voted UNFORGIVEN. The prison in MILGRAM will go even more hellish if that happens, and I’m not living up to that drama and am not doing it for the sake of drama. Again I don’t want more situations born from what happened to Amane. We should really choose wisely on why we vote, not because of what we want to happen in MILGRAM, but really personal belief whether the crime committed by the prisoners is forgivable or not.

In the end, I think what is important for Kazui is what he wants from us - to know his sin. He pointed out from his voice drama that we were wrong about him cheating. It’s most likely that he is a closet gay at this point. Voting for him UNFORGIVEN will most likely enforce how he isn’t normal, and being gay does make him a murderer, as shown at the end of his CAT MV. But really, it isn’t. His crime was lying. When he tried to confess, he didn’t intend death to follow.

I’m sure if he’s voted FORGIVEN in the end, Kazui will hear our reasonings that we think he’s gay. I mean, Yuno seem to be able to hear our opinions on her from the 1st trial according to her 2nd voice drama. So, I say to vote for Kazui to be FORGIVEN and let him know what we think his sin is likely this time. If he didn’t feel anything from it, we’ll leave that up to the last trial.

Cheers and thank you if you read this far.

TL;DR: Kazui should be voted FORGIVEN. The interpretation of his CAT MV can be that he was tactless when he confessed to what he lied about to Hinako, but that might be from his guilt and/or pushing us to make him UNFORGIVEN. Also, voting him so UNFORGIVEN sounds like it will backfire like it did with Amane during the 1st trial. Just realise his sin, most likely he’s gay, and vote based if you think confessing to a lie that caused unintended death is murder or not.

[creation-key]

Drunken Calls

Part 2

Synopsis: accidentally confessing while laughing

Warnings: drinking mentioned, barely any cussing, mostly pure fluff/ maybe angst?

a/n: I don’t have any original ideas, that i want share 😏, so i have stolen this prompt from @mangocherri , thank you love for the inspo! And if I completely butchered it and you want me to take this down, I so will, don’t even worry about it. enjoy, we’ll at least try to 🥸

It’s Saturday night? morning? you don’t even know at this point anymore. Your best friend Sierra took you out that night to celebrate your doctorate’s degree in Psychology.

You’re not much of a party girl on your own, but when with the right people, you never want to sleep. And that is exactly what you’re experiencing in the present, only now, you’re sipping on some fruit drink, the taste of alcohol no longer prevalent because of how much you’ve consumed that night already.

You’ve all gathered at your house for the after party, you called it, which was really your smart sober part of your brain, long gone now, trying to keep everyone from driving home. With the night still young , it’s 2 am, you’re talking up a storm, just really spilling the beans on every secret you’ve ever had, including your crush on your sister’s boyfriend.

Everyone having already sobered up and drinking water gasp, granted it’s only 4 people, including yourself, but the gasp sounded otherworldly to your intoxicated brain.

Not fully understanding what you had just admitted to, you yawn saying you’re gonna “hit the hay,” you wink, for literally no reason at all, and stumble your way to your bedroom, tripping over air at least 27 million times.

You reach your room and plop down on your bed face down, completely ready to just fall asleep like that until your phone, which you had forgotten about, starts to ring loudly. You groan, begrudgingly getting up to answer it.

“hEllor?” You slur out, reaching for a bottle of water half drunken on your night stand, in hopes of quenching your thirst.

“Hey, y/n, wait are you drunk?” The unknown person says.

“No, this is Patrick,” You laugh, dying at your joke, slapping your knee for extra effect. You set the phone face up on your bed, pressing the speaker button.

“Well I guess that answers that, there’s no way sober you would such an awful joke.” The person on the other line giggles.

“Heyy, watch it mister whoever you are. I can and will kick your ass. You know I know karate?”

“Oh really?” Mystery man asks.

“Yep, my best friend Harry taught me once. Do you know Harry?”

“Yeah, I’d say I know him pretty well, he’s kind of a goof isn’t he?” The man questions.

You laugh out loud at that, responding in between laughter.

“Yeah he’s a goof, but that’s why i love him. He’s unapologetically himself no matter the situation. You know sometimes I think I relate to the Schuyler sisters more than I’d like to.” The man on the other line takes in a sharp breath, before moving around asking shakily,

“why is that?”

“Because sometimes I wish I had been satisfied and never introduced him to my little sister, oh well, at least i still have him in life. Maybe I’ll meet a rich man like Angelica and move across the sea only seeing them on major holidays and vacations! Yeahhh, that’d be ideal.” You sigh at the end, it quickly turning into a yawn, after hearing no noise coming for the other end you assume the man has gone to sleep, so you bid your goodbyes, hanging up the phone and going to sleep.

——————————————————————————

The Next Morning~

You wake up in the morning with a sticky taped your head- it reads

“Hey girl, we all left as soon as Harry arrived, don’t worry we called ubers just in case. Had fun last night, also about that little secret, it’s safe with us little miss doctor, Love you and can’t wait to do this again!”

You laugh, throwing the sticky note on your bedside table, sitting up straight only to be hit with a ton of bricks to your mental. Memories from the night before come flooding back as well as the mention of Harry being in your house, recalled from the sticky note. Getting up, warily, you make your way to the shower and get ready for the day, you put on pajamas.

Hoping that you’d taken long enough in the bathroom for Harry to have left, you make your way downstairs, only to be met with a nervous smiling Harry eating pancakes and fruit at your table.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked with a worried look.

You look back at him embarrassed, but answer

“oh, i’m okay, just a little tired, and my head’s hurting, but i already took some medicine.”

“Do you, um- do you remember anything from last night?” He looks down at his plate.

You know with your own plate sitting across from him at the table.

“Uh yeah, all of it actually, in fact, this is so funny really, just as I was about to go to sleep some guy, i think, called me, but i never read his contact name so i had no clue who it was, plus the alcohol kind of distorted their voice so i couldn’t tell, anyways, I had a whole conversation with him.” You laugh as you recall the memory, giggling a little at end at yourself for being so silly as a drunk.

“What did you guys talk about?” Harry asked, his eyes now glued to the sink faucet.

“Oh nothing much, talked about karate and just spilled my deepest darkest secrets to him. Are you okay?” You look at him worried.

“Um, yeah. Why do you ask?” Him still not looking at you.

“Because you haven’t made eye contact with me since I walked in, and even then, it was only for a moment. What’s going on?” He looks up you and then back down at the floor, as if pondering what to say next.

“I love you too. I always have, honestly if I’m being completely transparent, I think that’s why I started dating your sister, I mean you guys are just so similar but so different in your own ways, but I just couldn’t learn to love the differences in her. And I know that sounds bad, but I cant ignore what i’ve been yearning to hear from you from the moment we met and not tell you how i’m feeling.” He takes a breath at the end.

You stare at him, trying to comprehend his words, trying to understand where he could have gotten this from, and the only thing that comes to mind is-

“It was you… you were on the phone last night. Weren’t you?” He nods. You stand up, almost knocking your chair over before backing up into a corner.

“y/n we can go somewhere, just us, a date. It doesn’t have to be weird love promise. I already talked to your sister, she under-“

You interrupt him-

“Harry i can’t do that to my sister. If you love me like you say you do, you know that i can’t and will not. I was fine with being in love with you in secret. And you told her? Why would you do that, you were both so happy. Always smiling. I can’t, please. Leave.” He starts shaking his head getting up to approach you.

“Harry leave before I lose it. I can’t do this right now, or ever. Please.” He opens and closes his mouth, defeated he leaves.

You fall to the ground, cupping your face to hold back your sobs from being heard from outside your door, where you sure Harry is waiting for you to let him back in. But you can’t-

you won’t.

~fin~

thoughts on a part 2, i enjoyed writing the angst hehe

[domiforpresident]

Words can't describe

Paring: Shuri undaku x Riri Williams

Word count: 2.1k

Contains: oblivious Shuri, flirty Riri, workaholic Shuri (if you squint), shuriri being supper cute per usual, Implied smutt??

This is slightly proof read so bare with me

Summary: Riri comes to visit Shuri in wakanda one weekend and she keeps trying to drop hits that she wants more than just a friendship with Shuri. but Shuri isn't catching on to her hints.

A/N: Okye is still a Dora milage in this, and Riri and Shuri have been best friend's for a few years.

Riri had spent the majority of her Friday afternoon packing her things, she had just left her last class for the day. Today was the day she was going to see her best friend Shuri whom she secretly liked. At least that's what she called it when she realized her heart raced as if she were running a marathon whenever she was in Shuris presence. While Riri was nearly done gathering her things and preparing to be picked up she heard a knock at her door. Intrigued to know who it was, she went to go open it.

She was pleasantly surprised to see none other than Shuri at her door with a smile worn on her face and open arms "Hey Riri".

Riri subtly smirked at Shuri before embracing her in a hug. A hug that the both of them wished would last forever. They slowly swayed back and forth to the rhythmic pace only they knew, their grasp on each other never loosing.

"I missed you so much Shuri" Riri admitted, breaking the silence between them.

Shuri moved her head down to gently press a kiss on Riri’s forehead. "I missed you too Riri" Shuri Came clean as well.

Before Riri could say anything in response, Okoye busted through the door startling Riri and Shuri, as they slipped out of one another's grasp.

"Okoye, I told you to wait outside" Shuri sternly said, looking at Okoye with a little annoyance.

"And I told you not to take forever, but here we are" Okoye giggled out while making slight eye contact with Riri.

"I wasn't up here that long" Shuri rolled her eyes. She then turned back to Riri. "But Riri, are you ready to go?"

"Um, yeah I just gotta grab one last thing and then I'll be ready" Riri said a little flustered, pointing her thumb back at absolutely nothing.

"I can stay up here with you if you want" Shuri stated as she looked at Riri with those big beautiful brown eyes that Riri hated to refuse. Nonetheless Riri needed time by herself to think.

"Ima be down in a few minutes Shuri, I'm good I promise" Riri reassured Shuri.

Shuri gently took Riri's hand into hers "Ok Ri, me and Okoye will be downstairs waiting for you" Shuri lightly rubbed her thumb across the top of Riris hand before leaving out of her dorm with Okoye.

Riri was now left with her thoughts. she had come to the conclusion that if there was a chance that Shuri did feel the same way about her, she needed to come clean about wanting more than just a friendship with Shuri. Riri wanted to Rush downstairs at that moment and pour her entire heart out to Shuri. But it simply wasn’t that easy for her. She knew everything she wanted to say to Shuri. But the correct words never came to Riri and her mouth always ran dry when given the opportunity to speak up about her love for her best friend. So Riri decided she would try her best to drop hints. Riri knew Shuri wasn't good with hints but she was still going to try.

Riri had all her things in hand and she was now walking downstairs to the car that awaited her. When she entered the last hallway leading to her exit, Shuri was leaned up against the wall waiting for her.

"Here let me help" Shuri insisted.

"Nah you don't gott-" Riri was cut off by Shuri reaching out for her bags anyways.

"Thank you Shuri" Riri said gratefully.

"You're welcome" Shuri smirked at Riri in the way that drove her insane.

They both walked out the door and then to the car which Okoye was driving. Shuri and Riri Got in. Riri nervously went to reach for Shuris hand. But Shuri wasn't paying attention as she moved her hand to start tweaking with her keymo beads. It wasn’t as direct as Riri wanted it to be but it was a start even if Shuri didn't catch on to what Riri was trying to do.

They had arrived in wakanda, Shuri was helping Riri settle in like she always did. She unpacked some of Riri’s clothes for her. Then Shuri helped Riri add some of her pillows that she brought from home to her bed. Riri was on the other side of the room putting little trinkets she made on her small night stand. Shuri threw one last pillow onto the bed before she spoke.

"You can either explore the palace, or come down to the lab. it would just be us since everyone is off for the weekend." Shuri let Riri know with a soft smile adorning her face.

"I'll come down to the lab, since you said ima get some one on one time with you." Riri said as she bit her bottom lip a little and tilted her head to the side.

"Well not exactly one on one griot will be there" shuri chuckled out.

Riri didn’t find it funny at all but she awkwardly laughed anyway. Shuri headed out the door as Riri followed behind her, dragging her hand down her face in frustration because Shuri was so oblivious it Hurt.

Now in the lab Riri was sitting down in a chair Shuri pulled out for her, scheming up ways to give hints to Shuri. Shuri on the other hand was tweaking with some new project she had been working on.

So Riri got up out of her seat and approached her.

"Shuri Don’t you think you deserve a break, you've been working on that project for the past 30 minutes non stop" Riri suggested as she reached up to play with the necklace she got Shuri as a gift.

"But I really wanna finish this Riri, why does it seem like you're in a rush to do something?" Shuri questioned as Riri still fidgeted with her necklace.

"I haven't seen you in so long Shuri, I thought we were gonna spend quality time together when I got here" Riri sighed out looking like a sad puppy.

"Ok I guess I can finish this tomorrow but what exactly do you want to do Riri" Shuri asked with her arms crossed.

"You" Riri whispered out low enough so Shuri wouldn't hear her.

"Huh?" Shuri asked, now confused on what Riri just mumbled under her breath.

"Nothing, um you've been in here all day let's go on a walk, get some fresh air." Riri sighed out as she dropped her hand from Shuris necklace. At this point Riri was starting to feel a little defeated.

"Ok fine, but we can't be out there too long. I really want to finish this project today, Riri" Shuri explained as she reached for Riri's hand and rubbed it the same way she did earlier.

Suddenly an overflow of boldness came over Riri. Riri draped her arms around Shuris neck "Ok well you go shower I'll be at your door at 6" Riri told Shuri like it was a question but she knew she wasn't asking.

Shuri, now becoming flustered, is pretending to look off at something but Riri isn't having it. She cupped Shuris chin and moved it towards her so that now they would be making eye contact.

"You heard me my love?" Riri asked with a devious grin on her face.

"Mhm" Shuri barely muttered. She was at a loss for words.

"Good, I'll see you at 6" Riri said as she walked away.

Shuri stood there trying to collect herself. Riri had never been so assertive with her before, and Riri never referred to her as "my love" of course they've told each other "I love you" but my love was a pet name unfamiliar to Shuri. She didn't have a problem with it though in fact she liked it alot. She liked Riri a lot. Shuri knew that if she stood there any longer thinking about her feelings for Riri she would be there till the next day. So instead Shuri cleaned up the lab then shortly after headed upstairs to get ready for her evening with Riri.

Riri had changed into some black sweatpants and a white wife beater. It was now 6. Riri was walking down the palace hall that led to Shuris room. When she got there Shuri was already dressed and sitting on her bed toying with her keymo beads. Riri walked in without warning but Shuri knew before Riri walked in that it was her based on the scent of coco butter lotion that lingered in the air.

"You ready?" Riri asked as she reached out her hand to Shuri.

"Yeah" Shuri responded as she grabbed Riri’s hand.

Hands still intertwined The pair walked down to the entrance of the palace and left to begin their walk.

Most of the people of wakanda had been inside preparing for dinner. There were a few children outside playing different games. They whispered things such as "Queen Shuri is on a date with her girlfriend." Which made Shuri blush. Riri was pretty quite so far. Shuri felt how much tension was in the air so she spoke up first.

Shuri turned to Riri "So Riri, I bet wakanda is kind of like a second home for you now with you being here quite often" Shuri joked awkwardly.

"I mean most would think that but wakanda is so breathtaking. It's like I'm experiencing it for the first time all over again every time I come" Riri notioned while her eyes explored the beautiful scenery of wakanda.

"While it is beautiful, sometimes I need a change of scenery, maybe I can visit you in Chicago more often?" Shuri asked.

"Yeah but just know I'm getting you your own bed, you sleep wild as hell" Riri and Shuri both laughed in unison.

Riri and Shuri had wandered so far into the kingdom that now they were approaching a cliff ledge. It was getting late and the sun was starting to set.

"It's getting late, we should head back now" Shuri stated.

"Why be in your lab all night when you could the sun set with me, come on Shuri you know you want to" Riri begged with a quivering lip.

"Ok fine but when we get bac-"

Riri yanked Shuri by her hand before she could finish her sentence "Oh come on girl."

Shuri and Riri both sat down on the ledge of the cliff.

"Isn't this better than rotting in your lab all day" Riri smugly asked.

"Yes, it is" Shuri rolled her eyes while grinning. "But you still never explained to me why you were in a rush earlier. and I know when you're lying Riri so it was definitely more than just wanting to spend time with me" Shuri pried, hoping to get some answers.

Riri now had an opportunity. She could stay quiet about her feelings or admit that she has feelings for Shuri.

"I was tryna tell you something earlier actually, well really I've been trying to tell you since I got here." Riri explained anxiously.

"Well go ahead, I'm listening" Shuri assured.

"I like you Shuri, I like you so much. My knees go weak whenever I'm around you and my heart starts skipping beats." Riri started. "You understand me on a level that nobody else has ever taken the time to understand me on. You're such a loving and compassionate person Shuri, and I love you so so much." Riri professed.

"Riri words can't even describe how much I care for you and love you. I've had feelings for you since I walked through your dorm room the first time we met. I've kept quiet because I didn't want to ruin our friendship" Shuri explained.

"I wish you would've said something sooner. I been trying my best to drop hits this whole time" Riri laughed.

Shuri reached out for Riris chin the same way Riri did to her earlier that day.

"Well we're here now and everything's been said" Shuri said with a look of hunger in her eyes as she slowly inched closer to Riri’s lips.

"If you wanna kiss me just say that" Riri’s eye's hanging low as she wore the same hunger in eye's that Shuri had .

Their lips gently pressed against one another's. They kissed slowly and passionately as if they were in no Rush to leave where they were seated. Riri’s hands clung to Shuris neck as the kiss grew more intense. Riri broke away from the kiss trying to come up for air.

"don't you think We should move this indoors?" Riri giggled.

"I'm going to get one of the ships to pick us up, walking is gonna talk too long" Shuri told Riri as she went to kiss her again.

[liightsout]

the blue - part two

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ summary: danny meets adam at a mclaren christmas party. danny and mattie meet ✯

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!oc

✯ content warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption ✯

✯ now playing: 'tis the damn season - taylor swift ✯

✯ series masterlist ✯

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December 2020

Danny stared at the large glass building in front of him debating whether to enter or wait around for someone he vaguely knew to walk in with. 

Like an answered prayer he heard a voice call out through the cold December air. “Mate, what are you doing out here still? It’s fucking freezing”. 

Turning his attention to the now open door he saw his team mate for the next 2 years was standing in front of him. 

Danny knew he was lucky to have Lando as a team mate. Not only was he a good driver, one of the best of the younger generation he’d seen in fact, but he was also immensely easy to get along with. He knew all he had to do was get the younger driver laughing and they’d be fast friends, although he doubted they’d be as close as he and Carlos were. 

He walked towards Lando, shrugging his shoulders and flashing his signature smile at the Brit. He wasn’t going to admit he found himself nervous at the prospect of meeting all of his new team at such a major event. 

Tonight was the Mclaren annual Christmas gala. All of the staff were gathered at MTC for food, drinks and socialsing. Everyone was decked out in their finest clothes and ready to spend the night drinking expensive champagne and toasting to an exciting new year in 2021 with their new driver lineup and promising new car. 

Lando led Danny inside the building, the younger of the two immediately pointing out who everyone was and filling him in on who he should and shouldn’t bother speaking to tonight.

“That’s Linda from HR, you’ll want to avoid her, she can get a bit touchy feely once she’s had a drink or two, and over there by the bar is most of the engineers, come on, I’ll introduce you to them.”

The pair headed for the bar, stopping every few steps for the obligatory handshake and smile at the staff eager to meet the Aussie. 

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as Lando pushed a drink into his hand, not really caring what it was he took a large gulp and turned himself to the curious eyes of his new engineer team. 

After a lot of introductions, bantering back and forth and numerous shots bought for him by the team he started to feel more at ease. 

He found himself thrown into conversation with Lando and one of the engineers, Adam, who he had learned quickly was one of Lando’s friends on the team. The pair were discussing how they needed to meet up for a game of Top Golf before the new season started. 

“How’s Matilda doing with her new job by the way? I know you said she was super busy, I’m surprised you didn’t bring her along with you” Lando asked his friend. 

Adam chuckled, clearly Lando didn’t know Matilda all that well. This event would be her worst nightmare, too many people, too much noise. 

“Yeah good mate, she’s smashing it actually, got loads of clients and making a name for herself, I’m so fucking proud of her. But nah she’s not here, not really her scene, I reckon I might be able to convince her to pick me up later though so I don’t have to pay for an Uber”. 

Adam and Lando laughed, nodding their heads in agreement at the ridiculous prince an Uber from Woking to London would cost. 

“Is that your girlfriend? Matilda?” Danny asked curiously. The question earned a laugh from the Brits in response. 

“He wishes” Lando exclaimed as Adam shook his head at the comment “nah mate, she’s my best friend, been that way since we were kids.” 

“She’s proper fit though Danny. Adam get your phone out and show him before I do” Lando slurred towards the Aussie, his eyes lighting up as he quipped at his friend.

Adam’s hand came out quickly, jokingly pushing his friend in response to the comment. 

“She actually thinks Danny is pretty hot if I’m honest, so you’ve got some competition Lando” Adam bantered back at him.

Danny felt his face flush, feeling immediately grateful for the low lighting covering the light blush gracing the top of his cheeks. He should have been used to this by now. He was no stranger to females finding him attractive, and some not being shy about it, but it didn’t make it any less flattering when it did happen. 

Lando pulled his phone out of his blazer pocket and opened up Instagram, quickly finding the profile he was looking for. Danny’s eyes adjusted as he looked at the screen in front of him. 

Lando was right, she was fit. More than that, she was beautiful. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever actually seen anyone that pretty before. Her beauty felt classic, understated. It was when he heard Lando snort he realised he’d been staring for a little too long at the phone screen before him. He quickly averted his eyes, making a mental note of the username on the screen. 

“Yeah she’s pretty” he spoke the words slowly, attempting to downplay how struck he had been by this girl, not wanting to annoy her best friend, his new engineer. 

Luckily Adam was quite used to his male friends reminding him of how gorgeous his best friend was. In all honesty he found Danny’s attraction to his best friend amusing, knowing that if when he got home he told her of it, she’d never believe him in a million years. 

Adam sensed the Aussie’s nervousness and decided to change the subject. 

“Shots anyone?” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mattie really didn’t mind living with Adam. The pair had lived together from the minute they’d finished college and gone off to university together, opting to share a flat off campus instead of paying for student accommodation. 

Once they had finished higher education they once again made the decision to move to the outskirts of London together. Neither wishing to attempt to afford London rent on their own. 

She didn’t care that he was sometimes messy. She didn’t moan when he sometimes left the toilet seat up. She barely even noticed when he would neglect to hoover the floor properly when he offered to tidy up the flat. 

She did, however, care when he came home at 3AM drunk as hell making as much noise as a bull in a china shop. This was the exact scenario she found herself in. 

She heard the front door swing open and slam against the radiator a quiet “fuck” echoing out into the quiet flat as he realised how noisy he had been. 

She heard him enter the kitchen and start banging various different pans around, that had once been neatly stacked in the drawer below the stove. She then heard the fridge door swing open and hushed laughter as the sounds of items hitting the tiled floor echoed round the flat. 

Mattie waited patiently through 10 minutes of banging and crashing for the noise to stop. She soon realised it would not be ending any time soon. With a groan she forced herself out of bed and slid her feet into the slippers that were neatly placed by her dresser. 

Swinging the door open she found herself stomping down the hallway and into the open plan kitchen and living room.

“Adam, what the actual fuck are you doing? It’s 3AM and I have a meeting in 5 hours! You promised you’d be quiet when you came home! You’re such a-” the girl stopped dead in her tracks. 

Why the fuck was Daniel Ricciardo standing in her living room smiling at her? 

“Hi there, I’m Danny” the Aussie said with a grin on his face, his hand extending out towards her to shake. 

Danny took this moment to get a good look at the girl who’s picture had been running around in his mind for the last 6 hours. 

There she stood, long brown hair clumsily pulled up into a bun on top of her head, an oversized sweater on her body and short cycling shorts barely covering her legs, a pair of fuzzy slippers on her feet. Not an inch of any makeup on her face, just a frown which was quickly turning into a look of confusion the longer she stared at him. 

“Yep” he thought “definitely pretty”. 

Dumbstruck, Mattie extended her hand towards the man in front of her. Was she dreaming? She wasn’t sure. The moment their hands touched Mattie knew this was not a dream. 

His large warm hand engulfed her much smaller, colder one. His firm grip sent shockwaves up her arm and straight to her heart. She felt as if she had been set on fire. Pulling back her hand quickly she tucked her hands into the pouch of her sweater. 

“I’m Mattie, sorry for shouting, that was really rude of me, I just-” the girl rambled as she searched for the right words to make the situation any less embarrassing. 

“Oh no, no, don’t apologise. Adam didn’t mention he had a roommate, otherwise I would have offered we go back to mine instead of his. We got a cab home together from the gala and we fancied a late night snack, didn’t mean to be so loud and wake you up. I’m really sorry, I feel awful” the Aussie replied. 

“It’s ok, not your fault, it’s typical Adam, he goes a bit dumb once he’s had a couple drinks… speaking of, where is he?” Mattie questioned, her eyes darting around the room looking for her friend. 

“He was about to start making a sandwich, and I won’t lie, I think he heard you coming and ran to hide in his bedroom… look I’ll head out, I don’t want to cause any more of an issue and I feel bad for waking you up” Danny stated looking round the room for his jacket and shoes that had been clumsily discarded once they’d entered the flat. 

“Don’t be silly, it’s so late, or early, whatever you wanna call it. You can crash on the sofa if you like? It’s not exactly the 5 star you might be used to, but it’s comfy enough” the girl offered, grabbing some of the pillows and blankets she had around the room for when she needed to curl up and get comfy. She placed them on the sofa beside them, gesturing for him to make himself at home. 

“Only if you’re sure babe, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable”. The word slipped off his tongue before he could stop himself. Internally cursing himself he hoped she didn’t notice. A beat of silence passed around the room. Judging from the blush now scattered across her cheeks, she definitely did. 

“Oh urm, yeah, of course it’s fine, anyway, I need to get to sleep. If you see Adam tell him he owes me a muffin from the bakery across the street when he wakes up from his drunken stupor” Mattie joked, growing nervous at the nickname the man before her had used so easily. 

Mattie gave a parting wave and headed back to the sanctuary of her bedroom. Once the door had closed she released the breath she felt she had been holding for the last few minutes. 

Crawling back into bed she felt the anxiety creep in. Mentally replaying the interaction she had just had with Danny in her head over and over again. 

She was going to kill Adam in the morning. 

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✯ authors note: hi hi. on a bit of a roll last few days with writing, let's hope it continues! thank you all for the likes and follows, it honestly makes my day a little brighter when i get the notifications <3 ✯

[iriswestallenn]

The discourse on Saltburn is so interesting to me because you either choose to take the movie as a fun romp or a movie "that had nothing [new] to say." Or that things happened just for shock value.

While there's definitely an argument to be made that this film had nothing/little to say, (as I am struggling with some themes they seemed to drop halfway through as well,) I just took this movie as a fun romp haha. You have to sit back and remember... they drew curtains back after a major character death and the entire room was RED! They isolate their black family member. They put a deer costume on Oliver during his bday party. A DEER. This movie was never trying to be subtle.

I've seen some crazy takes like "rich people good?" lmao Felix is arguably the 'nicest' family member right? Jacob Elordi and the script honestly do a really good job showing he's just as shitty as his family. After telling Oliver about his life, he asks Oliver, what about you? Cmon, what else? Siblings? ANYTHING interesting about you? Oliver should not have lied... if he didn't though, do you actually believe Felix would have kept talking to him? Felix gathered his family around and told them exactly "what happened" to Olivers mom and dad. No one would DO THAT! Especially if you've invited this person to your home!!

This internet age refuses to accept multiple things can be true at the same time haha when Felix learned from Farleigh that Ollie and Venetia hooked up, Felix STOMPED to the breakfast table. Folded his arms, ignored Ollie, made no eye contact. Then admitted he didn't want Ollie to be with Venetia, he had a problem with THE LAST GUY he brought to their home being with Venetia. They bring a new "poor" person their home every damn Summer. Multiple truths: 1. Felix shouldn't have been friggin killed. 2. Felix was a shitty person. Jesus

I understand the shock value critique. None of the three big scenes came across like shock value to me personally. I think it's because 1. It was all coming from Oliver. Oliver slurped the tub water, he fucked the grave, he put the period blood back in Venetias mouth. I think if everyone in the family was also doing weird fucked up shit, I'd be like, oookay. Now how is everyone here a weirdo? lol but it was just Oliver. 2. I thought this was a cannibalism movie lmao so I was actually expecting worse!

Obviously people can have different opinions but this movie and its discourse have been super interesting to me. I really enjoyed this movie but my main negative is that it does present itself in the beginning of the movie as though it has something to say but it doesn't have much to say? You're also not made aware that Olivers main objective was the house. Or if it wasn't the house at the start, at what point did it become about getting everything from the family?

Remember the friend Ollie had at the school that he later dropped? That friends last words to Ollie were, "he'll [felix] will get bored of you." Or something like that. That was so dumb lmao Venetia says this exact thing later in the movie. Why not make that friends last words to Ollie about status? Tie that into what Farleigh begins to tell Ollie and make Ollies goal clear to the audience even before the "plot twist."

That scene in school with the tutor. Oliver read the whole summer reading list. He came to college ready to go by the rules and succeed. There's no clear turning point imo. When Farleigh gets there late, doesn't care, definitely didn't read the reading list, and the tutor is like, "I knew your hot mom. We weren't friends, I just admired her from afar." I wish there was more focus on Oliver realizing following the rules would get him nowhere he wanted to be.

I ended up enjoying this movie because I'm satisfied with how fun it was, how GORGEOUS it looks, and how great the performances are. Not good, great performances truly. It's so sad that this could have been a 'no plot, just vibes' kinda movie. But instead there is some semblance of a plot lol it's just not fully fleshed out. I still think people are taking it way too seriously and the genuine distain for it is odd but there's a tug and pull here for sure.

[celastapasta]

I made some JJK OCs 👉👈 Here's the picrew I used because I can't draw for shit

Name: Hamada Umeko

Age: 22

Pronouns: She/her

Rank: Semi Grade 1 Sorcerer

Cursed Technique: Camouflage. Her cursed energy can take on the appearance of her surroundings, shifting in real time as she moves - making her effectively invisible to the naked eye. She can also imbue objects with her cursed energy to give them the same properties.

Fun Facts:

• Umeko's CT is effective when against normal humans or negligent sorcerers, but once someone looks for residuals she's like a big red target through infrared. Therefore she has a pact that dampens her cursed energy output so she can remain almost completely undetected, but renders her incapable of imbuing her physical attacks with cursed energy while invisible. This makes her incredibly disadvantaged at close range, but makes her invisible to nearly all sorcerers other than very observant ones - namely Gojo Satoru.

• Due to the nature of her pact, her preferred combat style is through imbuing kunai with her cursed energy, making them invisible, then attacking from the shadows. Her talents are mostly relegated to intelligence gathering.

• She's dating Ino :)

• Umeko graduated from the Tokyo school and was a year above Ino

• A huge fan of fighting games - she's won a couple of local tourneys but has never pursued anything higher (she mains Ken in SF and Sin in GG)

• She puts candy canes in her hot chocolate

• She gives off major older sister energy. Is also incredibly supportive towards anyone the second they mention wanting to do something. Wanna pass a test? You've got this! Wanna ask someone out? Do you need a wingman? Need to hide a body? She'll grab a shovel (and then hit you over the head with it afterwards bc wtf were you thinking)

• Can and will carry Ino over her shoulder.

Name: Fujimoto Eiko

Age: 31

Pronouns: He/they

Rank: Grade 2 Curse User

Cursed Technique: Sleep Touch. Anyone he touches will be immediately lulled to sleep and will not wake up until he wills it. They are in tune with a small swarm of moth shikigami, which carry out their CT whenever they land on someone. The effectiveness of the sleep state depends on how much stronger they are compared to their target - ranging from the previously stated scenario, their target waking up sometime before they wish it, to various states of drowsiness.

Fun Facts:

• Eiko's body takes on characteristics of his shikigami when he channels them - namely fuzzy, glowing antennae and swirling blue patterns on his face and arms.

• His moth shikigami glow an electric teal color.

• They are a thief, and use their CT to steal things undetected. Normal humans have no resistance to their CT, so they stick to petty crimes and reselling what they stole online. He's sometimes commissioned to steal cursed weapons/objects, but he rarely takes these jobs and only if he knows said objects/weapons aren't already registered with jujutsu high. He's abysmal at fighting and does not want to run into someone that can resist his technique.

• Eiko has a fairly sizable aquarium at his house and is quietly passionate about it. It is very well maintained.

• Their favorite food is takoyaki.

• They work at a suit/tailor shop.

• They're rather antisocial, only interacting with family on holidays and don't let anyone get past the social rank of "co-worker."

• He would rather not admit he's fond of Noriaki, his "handler" for heists that involve curses.

Name: Nishio Asahi

Age: 287

Pronouns: She/her, but doesn't really care

Rank: Grade 1 Incarnated Curse User

Cursed Technique: Matchbox. By creating friction between her body and something else (such as snapping or dragging her foot on the ground), she can spark her cursed energy into a flame. She can then manipulate said flame however she wishes.

Fun Facts:

• Was a sorcerer of the Edo period, same as Kashimo. However they were not alive at the same time.

• Possessing the body of Sasaki Daigo.

• She was a scribe for a noble house, and met and made a deal with Kenjaku while they both served under said house. Kenjaku was in the body of a lady-in-waiting at the time, and was usually the most entertaining thing happening in Asahi's life. Kenny helped her get the hang of her CT when they would sneak off late at night to practice. There never really was any need for them to actually fight, which they found rather disappointing, so Kenjaku promised they could truly reach their potential in a few centuries if they made a pact together.

• A chronic girl kisser

• Always has the need to be doing something, especially now that she's incarnated and is not restrained by the rules and etiquette that come with serving a noble family.

• He's found a particular interest in gummy candy.

• She's hoping to run into Kenjaku during the culling games. (She's doing fairly decently in it - having 55 points).

• All of Asahi's manors come from etiquette training and necessity. She's actually a total dick. Really the only servant who liked her in her original period was Kenjaku because they thought she was funny. They would often gossip together and snicker in the corner like high school girls.

Name: Sasuki Daigo

Age: 25

Pronouns: He/him

Rank: Non-sorcerer

Fun Facts:

• Daigo is currently being possessed by Asahi. While not a sorcerer, he could perceive cursed spirits and therefore has not died now that Asahi is incarnated. He does not have the capabilities of being an active vessel, however, and is effectively in a coma.

• He was a barista at a coffee shop for much longer than he wanted to be. He'd dropped out of college because he couldn't keep paying for it, and had since gotten stuck there.

• He is a major boyfailure. Asahi enjoys the novelty of being in a male body, but 100% would make fun of Daigo if he were conscious to hear it.

• He naturally has blue eyes, but they were turned purple once possessed by Asahi.

Name: Koyama Sugi

Age: 15

Pronouns: She/her

Rank: Grade 4 1st year

Cursed Technique: Hallucinations. She turns her cursed energy into a mist which causes hallucinations for anyone around. She doesn't decide what people see, and the experience can range from slightly disorienting to an acid trip - thought the latter is a much rarer experience and usually only happens to non-sorcerers.

Fun Facts:

• Sugi is the second first year at Kyoto Tech.

• Her family is the major reason she's studying to be a sorcerer. She's incredibly timid and dislikes what her CT does to people. She would rather be a manager or window, or preferably a regular person. Utahime convinced her to stay at least as long as it takes to control her CT so she doesn't accidentally effect normal people.

• She was mistreated as a child by non-sorcerers due to them believing she was cursed, and her family didn't like how she wouldn't stand up for herself.

• Sugi likes to listen to music on cassette tapes. Her favorite song right now is Mr. Blue Sky.

• She loves both spicy and sour foods, and is a little competitive about eating them.

• She's good friends with Nitta and Miwa, and has a bit of a sibling-like relationship with Noritoshi. She's scared of the other Kyoto students.

• Can't stand scary movies.

[moonlightspencie]

The Fulton Project

Description: The knowledge of an FBI operation gone wrong has the world as the BAU knows it turning on it’s head. How does something like this end after months of civil unrest?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader (but honestly the relationship aspect comes like 3rd in levels of importance to this story lol)

Warnings: violence, non-graphic major character deaths (2), implications of suicide, ANGST, (kind of an unreliable narrator, but in an im-traumatized-and-not-thinking-straight way)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: this is me speedrunning a ya dystopian novel to be honest. i wrote it all at like 1am after watching the entire hunger games series lollll

We were gathered around my desk one morning, everything feeling so normal that day. I wish I’d have known then that I wouldn’t get to experience it again. I would have appreciated it more.

“I don’t know. Strauss has been acting super weird. Like she knows something we don’t,“ JJ stated, leaning against my desk.

“What’s new?” Morgan asked with a snort.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s like she’s afraid of something. I don’t get it. She never acts scared of anything.”

I sat with that sentiment for a moment.

“Has anyone asked her?” I inquired. “I know we don’t like to talk to her if we can help it, but if this is serious—“

“I don’t think she’d admit anything,” JJ responded.

“Maybe Pen can dig something up,” I said, just as Hotch strolled in.

“Dig something up on what?” he asked.

“Strauss,” Morgan said curtly. “JJ said she’s been acting all weird lately.”

“Is that new?” he said, giving his barely-there smile.

“That’s what I said!” Morgan yelled out, going back to his own desk.

JJ mentioned something about seeing Penelope, and I watched as she dragged Emily with her. I started on my consultations for the day, and was only interrupted when Spence came up to my desk with a new mug of coffee.

I smiled, taking it from him.

“Thanks, love.”

“Of course. It looked like you needed a little energy boost,” he noted, watching me for a moment. “Do you want to go out tonight?”

I glanced up at him. “Where were you thinking?”

“That Thai place you love?”

I smiled. “That would be great.”

“Do you want to leave after work tonight, then?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

The day went on quickly, and finally getting to have a night that was just Spence and myself was a welcome reprieve from all of the casework we’d been doing. He always seemed to know how to lift my spirits, even when the world was upside down. He did his best, time and time again, to be there for me in whatever way possible.

We were asleep in his apartment when we got the early-morning call. Spence answered the phone, face dropping. I only heard a muffled, panicked rambling on the other end from Pen’s sweet voice. He assured her that the whole team would be there as soon as possible, then turned to me when he hung up.

“Garcia found something big. We’ve gotta get to work.”

We rushed over. I drove as Spence contacted the rest of the team. He immediately went to meet her in the conference room as I double-checked that nobody else was in the bullpen. When I was sure, I started up the stairs and towards the conference room.

“Here,” Penelope’s voice said, quietly as I neared the doorway.

I walked into the room, seeing her look like she’d just seen a ghost. She gave me a quick glance, then excused herself from the room.

“Is she okay?” I asked Spencer.

He only shrugged, unsure. Everyone else filed in within the next couple of minutes. He looked over everything Penelope had given him, sorting through all of the things that were worth reading for the rest of us to see. He only slowed his roll when he started nearing the end.

“I think I found something,” he said.

Prentiss sat up straight. “What is it?”

“It’s called the Fulton Project,” Spencer said, scanning over the rest of the file. “I don’t think this is what it seems.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, pretty boy?” Derek asked, half a smirk on his face.

Spencer wasn’t smiling, and it seemed that Penelope’s exit from the room made much more sense now.

“This is… How did we get this file, again?”

I stood from my seat, circling around behind him.

“Penelope found it. It used to be encrypted, but the last time it was opened someone got awfully irresponsible. She found a way in,” Prentiss said, looking across the table.

I scanned it as she told him, horror building.

“I thought the CIA was the one that did stuff like this,” I whispered finally.

They all gathered around to see what I meant, each person’s attitude turning sour the further down the page they got. However accidentally, we’d uncovered something huge. An entire operation dedicated to not only “silencing” agents, but civilians as well. It was like some sort of twisted men in black for governmental secrets. And it didn’t end there. The torture methods described in order to brainwash people or garner information were on par, and even worse, than the unsubs we hunted down every day.

“What do we do?” I asked.

Instinctively, everyone turned to Hotch. He looked at each of us for a few moments before answering.

“We take it down.”

We went for a few weeks, uncovering as much as we could under the radar. More information than I ever wanted to know came to light, but we had to make a really solid case before we could bring it to a court. It turns out there was more corruption that we’d thought possible after the first file we had seen. Framings and assassinations and brainwashing and making people disappear. It was all too much. Then, Hotch had an idea to light a fire under the bellies of those involved.

I took a deep breath as I stepped up on the podium. Reporters stared me down, all scrambling to get close.

“Good evening,” I began, trying to tune out everything but my own voice. “We’ve— I’ve prepared a statement on the events that occurred today, and over the past few years, really. After an inside investigation, we have reason to believe that the Fulton Project, headed up by Richard Jones, Mark Stein, and Amelia Sanchez has been an elaborate cover-up for operations within the FBI that we as a unit do not stand for. However, these are only allegations, so please let that reflect on the record. We will keep you all updated as we learn more.”

A million questions started being thrown my way, but I felt Hotch take my arm and guide me back off the podium. He started walking me into the building.

“Good. That was good,” he noted quietly. “The sooner this gets out, the more likely it is that we’ll be able to take them down.”

I breathed deep as we stepped into the elevator.

“Are you sure this was the right move? You and I both know this likely runs deeper than the FBI.”

“It’s going to work out just fine,” he said, not glancing in my direction. “After today, everything is going to change.”

I was told that me going on the news to release that statement would be fine. Hotch reassured me that nothing bad would happen. He told me it was the right thing to do. He told me that speaking the names wasn’t defamatory because we weren’t actually accusing them of anything. It was a huge move, and I knew that.

I didn’t know it would change everything.

I sat in the bullpen at my desk when we got back in the building. Everyone left eventually, leaving me, my thoughts, and the imaginary paperwork I told everyone I had to do. I really just needed time to think. Unfortunately, my time for thinking was cut short.

My personal cell rang, an unknown number on the screen. I wasn’t usually one to pick up for unknown callers, but something in me compelled me to this time.

“Hello?” I greeted.

“Do you know who I am?”

The voice was familiar, though I couldn’t place it.

“I don’t.”

A sigh came from the other end.

“You’re nothing but a parasite in this organization. Ruining everything with a stupid press conference, and you don’t even know my name?”

I paused. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be. Live television isn’t the place to expose secrets, my dear, and yet you did it anyways.”

“I didn’t mean to—“

“People are asking questions. You let it all loose, and tomorrow news stations across the country are going to be putting up your name and your image as the person who caused all of this.”

I was silent, trying to process all of this. It was one slip, how could it possibly put me in the line of fire like this?

“Watch your back.”

The line went dead after that.

I left the bureau and went to Spencer’s in a panic. I knew I wasn’t safe at work anymore, and frankly I was shocked I could leave at all. On the way to his place, I tried calling Hotch, but the line was dead. I ended up at the door of Spencer’s apartment, waiting with shaky hands. He opened the door with a smile that faded fast.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Can I come in?”

He nodded, shutting the door behind me as I entered.

“Lock it,” I instructed.

He listened, following me in confusion as I shut his curtains.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m not safe.”

He stopped me from pacing around the room, holding my face in his hands.

“Why not?”

I held onto his wrists, breathing in deep.

“I think—“ I swallowed, unsure if I could finish the statement.

He furrowed his brow, as he always did.

“What?”

“They know that we know. I didn’t mean to, but it’s all being taken down, now.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to get any clear answer from me.

“I think Hotch was using me. He knew this whole time that the higher-ups were corrupted and let me be the one who’s face is plastered on it all coming out. It’s only getting worse now that the secret isn’t contained to the bureau. The whole country is going to know.”

He swallowed, the usual color in his cheeks drained.

“Hotch wouldn’t do that.”

“He would if it meant protecting Jack. He shut off his phone, Spence. He would let me take the fall to protect his son.”

“No.”

I nodded. “He would. He would, and you know that. He could rationalize it by telling himself he wasn’t directly harming me, but he knew what would happen.”

Spencer shook his head, tears in his eyes. I took his hand, trying to give him any semblance of comfort.

“What do we do?” he asked, voice small.

“We’re not doing anything. You’re going to help the team finish what we started.”

“And you?”

“They’re coming for me, but I refuse to let them find me without a fight.”

“Let me come with.”

“No.”

“Please. You can’t do this alone. We stand a chance against them, we can take them down.”

I sighed. “You’re better off trying to do that here. Use that big brain of yours. There’s always a flaw in these systems, especially when the motives for keeping them in place are all wrong. You know that.”

“The team can do it without me. I need to be there with you.”

I sighed hard, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. “Fine.”

We worked for months. All of our meetings had to be completely concealed once I went into hiding. The team and I knew better than anyone the lengths they would take to find me and have me destroyed. My image was the one attached to all of this, and now the general public saw me as the sole reason for the secrets getting out.

Against my better wishes, Spencer came with me. We were holed up in Tennessee somewhere, completely cut off from practically everyone. The only person who really knew where we were was Penelope, strictly for the fact that she was the one in charge of communication. That was something else that happened completely against my wishes, but she kept us updated. Hotchner had long-since escaped somewhere with Jack, thus escaping from the inevitable guilt that came with forcing me into a role I never wanted or asked for. I knew that one day, whether I succeeded or not, he’d have to live with himself. That kept me from wishing worse for him.

The others stuck together. Though, having worked for the government, they all had massive targets on their backs. They had to stay off the grid as much as they could. Their only true communications were through Penelope, and the main destination was me. Until, eventually, they stopped communication altogether. According to Pen, they’d found a way to be safe. She wouldn’t tell me any more than that, but if what it took for them to be safe was no longer associating with me, it was worth it.

Unrest continued to build as the general public realized more and more what had been happening within our country. Right under our noses. I worried at first that we would be too complacent to fight against it all, but was quickly proven wrong. My initial exposure of the corruption had inspired a sense of conflict that I would never have expected.

I supposed it helped that the FBI directors immediately tried to kill me. They put me on top of the “most wanted” list, and made it clear that they weren’t going to stop hunting me down. That certainly didn’t assure everyone that things were as fine as they had been led to believe. It was mistake number one.

Mistake number two was the attempt to put military on the streets. They didn’t count on everyone being against a governmental body in such a strong way. They definitely didn’t expect people to be willing to put themselves in the line of fire for freedom’s sake. But, after we released all of the documents that showed what they’d done, it only grew.

I sat in the safe house with Spencer as we watched footage of the destruction. I was used to seeing horrible things in front of my eyes daily. It’s what came with the job I once had. But this was different. It killed me to see innocent people giving their lives when I’d been the one to start it all unraveling. Spencer tried to be sympathetic, but I could see in his eyes that he was glad for it. I would even say he had a sense of excitement at the unrest in the states. It was a miracle for him. It was hell for me.

“I didn’t mean for all of this to happen,” I said quietly, viewing nothing but destruction on the screen before me.

Spencer ripped his sights from it, looking at me instead. Now visibly less excited.

“This isn’t a bad thing, you know? Innocent people were being killed and framed for things they didn’t do, and even worse. It’s good that the secrets finally came out.”

“Innocent people are still dying, Spence.”

“But their deaths aren’t meaningless anymore. They’re fighting against evil.”

I fell silent. I knew he wasn’t getting it. He couldn’t get it, not really. He didn’t feel like he was the reason for all of this. He was used to being the hero, rarely thinking twice any time he gunned someone down. The years of seeing in black and white finally got to him, and now it altered his perception of the current state of the world as a whole. I still saw in tones of gray, and this entire debacle was one big sea of gray. There were no winners or losers, only people who were dying left and right for no real reason.

A ping on my computer alerted me of Penelope’s message, taking me out of my own head.

“Let’s check it out,” I said, not looking at Spencer.

I heard him follow behind me, watching as I clicked on the link from her and typed in the codes we’d agreed upon to view it. There were two messages.

One was typed out:

- Something is wrong. I don’t know what’s happening, but I think they’re coming for me. Now is the time. Don’t wait.

I froze, my stomach dropping.

“What does that mean?” Spencer asked, his voice sounding horribly far away.

I clicked on the second message, an impending sense of doom in my gut. Something was horribly wrong. A video popped up, playing before I had a chance to click it. A familiar face showed on the screen, but it was the last face I wanted to see. Richard Jones.

“Good evening, doll. Your little friend is all done playing walkie-talkie.”

I watched in abject horror as he moved back to show Penelope strapped into a chair. Her usual bubbly, colorful self was in drab clothing. Her hair undone. Not an ounce of makeup on her face. The only color I saw was the pink tint on her nose and cheeks from all the crying she was doing. Those were the first things I noticed. The second was a gun aimed at her head.

“Turn yourself in. We’ll find the rest of your friends if you don’t. Let this be a message that we’re not afraid to wipe out every last one of you.”

The trigger was pulled, but my scream and the hands flying to my eyes still couldn’t shield me in time from hearing the shot or seeing red splattered over her body. I fell to the ground, sobbing in hard breaths that couldn’t be stopped. I felt Spencer’s hands try to comfort me or at least stop my crying, but it was all so far from me. I was outside of my body, looking down at myself in a mess on the ground. She deserved so much more than an early, terrifying death that could have been prevented.

The next thing I remember is waking up on the couch. I shot up, heavy breaths coming in at the dream that I quickly remembered was actually a memory. She was gone. And it was my fault. I couldn’t stop myself from acting anymore.

I got up, getting dressed quickly without waking Spencer. I gathered my things, and started packing them all up in a different room than the one he slept in. It didn’t stop him from coming in.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going. No one else is going to die because of me.”

“They’ll kill you.”

I was quiet as I packed the rest of my things. He physically got in my way when he realized I wasn’t going to quit.

“Stop.”

“Move, Spencer.”

He huffed a sigh, taking my arms as I tried to move around him again.

“Please, stop doing this. I don’t want to fight you.”

“Good, because this isn’t your fight to begin with. It’s mine. Pen said to stop waiting, and I’m not going to give up on her dying wish.”

He stomped out of the room, and I thought I was in the clear until he came back a minute later, completely dressed.

“If you’re leaving, I’m coming with.”

I shook my head. “You’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

I pushed past him into the hallway.

“You need to stay safe, Spencer. You’re not safe with me.”

“I still love you, you know?” he called after me as I walked towards the door.

I froze, my eyes closing tightly. He walked up behind me.

“Do you still love me?”

I sighed. “You know I do. But things are different now.”

“It’s been months since you said it. The last time you did was two weeks, three days, and 8 hours from the time we first came here to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry.”

He grabbed my arm again, and I turned to face him reluctantly.

He furrowed his brow. “If you still love me, then please don’t make me stay here while you run off to die.”

“They might kill you, too, Spence.”

“I know.”

I swallowed, then nodded solemnly. He finished getting ready, and we were off less than an hour later. I didn’t know where to go, so I figured the easiest course of action would be to meet them where they were: DC. The only question that lingered in my mind is if they’d let me get that far before inevitably killing me off. Or worse.

We were traveling as quietly as possible until we got to Virginia. We decided to stay the night at an abandoned hotel, and the easiest way for me to get any peace of mind was turning on the news. Staying updated was the only thing getting me through anymore. There was no such thing as peace. Every day was a new form of hell, and it never ended. I longed for days that were as easy as chasing down serial killers.

I didn’t realize I had drifted off until I heard vehicles approaching. I looked out the window and down at the ground to see multiple cars pulling up quickly.

“Spence,” I whispered, running over to shake him awake. “They’re here. We need to go.”

His eyes shot open.

“What?”

“They found us. They found me, we need to leave.”

He sprung up, gathering his guns before checking out the same window I’d looked through.

“They’re surrounding us.”

I breathed heavily, my mind racing with a million possibilities. I ultimately settled on one.

“Follow me,” I said, running into the hall.

He chased after me blindly, and I let myself take a moment mentally to appreciate that he always trusted me. Hopefully that would carry him through. We burst into the stairwell, and I started racing up the steps. He questioned what I was doing, but ultimately decided to keep chasing after me. I found the door I was looking for, and stepped out onto the roof of the hotel. I turned to look at him as he scrunched up his face in confusion. He glanced around, only paying more attention once I neared the edge.

“What are you doing?” he exclaimed quietly, pulling me back.

I watched as the last of the men below entered the building. I took a moment to appreciate the breeze blowing against my warmed skin. I felt everything so much more in that moment. Then, I finally spoke.

“If I jump, you have a chance. They’ll find you here without me. You can say you pushed me, and they’ll let you live.”

He stared for a moment.

“It isn’t right. You can’t just— You can’t do that.”

“There’s worse fates, Spencer. Don’t tell me what’s right when we can’t ever know for sure the difference between right and wrong here. Not anymore.”

“I promised I’d never let anything happen to you. Please don’t make me watch it all be for nothing.”

I looked down at the ground. I was fairly certain that even if I survived the fall, something else would finish me off. Spencer would be safe.

He took my hand. “All of this for so long. We came here together, we stayed together, and for what? For you to die?”

“I can’t let them take me. You can survive. I can’t get away. I lit the fire, and you know that they’ll want to do much worse than kill me for that.”

“Please.”

I shook my head, hearing the voices grow closer as they came up the stairwell. All of these months felt like years. The betrayal from a close friend. Seeing Penelope die because of it. It was like a thousand lifetimes crammed into one. I couldn’t let Spencer be the next on the list who was harmed because of me. My mind was made up. This was the only way he could get out.

“I love you, Spence. But I refuse to let you burn with me.”

He stared, though whether his eyes were filled with horror or emptiness I’m still not sure. All I know is that I fell, and that it didn’t feel like I thought it would.

It felt like peace at last.