#i love getting Stuck on one thing but i think this is genuinely my favorite music video Thing since like walls

[pickingupmymercedes]

Bite-Sized Blurbs - Celebration

So, we have 500 followers!!

And to celebrate I'm taking requests for bite-sized blurbs ( anywhere from 300-600 words)

Request will be open from the 21th of June until the 5th of July (two weeks)

Note: Your idea might end up as a one-shot or be incorporated into ony of my on-going series. (My mind runs with some prompts sometimes 🙃)

If you want to follow the drabbles, they'll be under the Ella500 hashtag

Rules:

Only Lewis requests

You can combine up to two dialogues prompts (under the cut or send me your own)

Please give me a general direction of where you'd like things to go (and if you want it sfw or nsfw)

Dialogues ideas

“oh, now you’re sorry.”

“that’s it? that’s all i get?”

“i’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

“it’s too late for that.”

“love?! you think i’m in love?”

 “snuggle with me.”

 “god you’re bleeding! how the hell did you do that?” 

“i smell something burning, you’re sure you’re okay in there?”

 “you’re so warm.”

“okay, mom.”

“is that a rhetorical question? you genuinely want an answer?”

“don’t ask me that.”

 “watch it. seriously.”

“you know you’re stuck with me, right?” 

“what are you talking about? you did just fine.”

“i’ll go. you’ve done enough for the day.” 

 “why do you always do this to yourself? i don’t fucking get it..” 

 “you told me you’d be careful!” 

“you just did that. you just did that!”

“you’re the strongest person i know.”

“you’re my favorite person.” 

 “what do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” 

 “babe, i love you, but we both need to get up early.”

“promise me you won’t hate me?”

“it’s you. it’s always been you.”

“you’re blurring your words together, time for bed.”

“I really like the idea of growing old with you.”

“move, you’re on my side”

“you’re putting me to sleep…stop.”

 “take another step towards me and watch what happens.” 

 “no one asked you to be here!” 

“just, sit down! Please”

 “why are you staring at me?”

 “Did I stuttered? I said i love you.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @jajouska

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[sk1l-exe]

Darry headcannons bc he’s my favorite and I need a distraction :]

- Considers adopting Johnny on a daily basis, thinks about how his initials wouldn’t even change. He’d still be Johnny C to everyone, but to him he’d be his. Like, everyone else can have Johnny Cade, but Johnny Curtis is his.

- He can sing really well, like strangely good for a greaser. In high school he hung around choir kids a lot and they taught him a lot of things about singing. He would always absentmindedly practice and eventually got pretty good at it. Sometimes when he thinks he’s alone or he’s in a good mood he’ll sing something quietly, the gang really likes listening to him so they’d all like, crowd behind a wall and listen. Man’s got pipes is the summary of that.

- Always speaks too loud or too soft, no in between.

- Wanted to be a doctor for the longest time bc he wanted to help people, although as he got older he slowly realizes that that’s not possible and he’s seriously torn up about it. So, he settles for patching up the gang whenever they get hurt. He hates that they’re hurt obv, but he likes making them feel better.

- He feels like he’s never fit in. With the Socs he was always the odd one out, never having anything fancy or new cars to show off, but he was fine with that bc he’d always known he wouldn’t exactly fit it with them. The real issue came with not fitting in with the gang. He feels ostracized, like he’s stuck between worlds because he’s too mature or stuck up, like the only reason anyone stays around him is bc of his brothers and even they seem distant from him. Pony seems to hate his guts and Soda drifts away from him, bc he’s 100% aware that out of the 3 of them Soda and Pony would always choose each other over him.

- Hates Steve dad with a passion. He knows he doesn’t care about his kid and it infuriates him, he’s just glad Steve rarely goes to his own home and usually stays at his house.

- Loves storms with a passion, will sometimes just go out and wander around in the rain. He always scared the shit out of his brothers when they realize he’s gone only to find him wandering around in the rain somewhere.

- 1000% read Pony’s essay and was destroyed by it, prob cried about it later too. He pretends like he’s indifferent for Pony’s sake but can’t stop thinking about how his brother thinks that he’s barely human.

- Always asks how Two-bits mom and sister are doing when he remembers too. He really likes their company and genuinely wants to know how their life is.

- Relatively good friends with Tim Shepard, like, both of them understand what it’s like taking care of their siblings and such. Also I feel like Darry’s patched up Tim more times than either of them can count bc he’s the neighborhood ‘doctor’.

- He hates trains bc they always take things he cares about. First his parents and then Pony and Johnny. He feels stupid about it but honestly it’s kind of valid.

- Speaking of Johnny, Darry was def worried about him a lot when he figured out he left with Pony too. Obv he worried for Pony more but he sees Johnny as another brother and worried more bc of it.

- All of the gang shows up to his house for holidays, except sometimes Dally doesn’t show up. He always takes it upon himself to find him and invite him over, especially for Christmas bc he always get everyone great gifts and he wants Dally to get something too.

-He rarely gets drunk but when he does he’s so cuddly it’s insane. Even though he nearly broke Steve’s jaw once he’ll nearly smother him in a hug if he’s nearby. He does the same thing to everyone, but he gives good hugs so it’s a win.

- Sometimes his brothers accidentally call him dad and he thinks he doesn’t know how to feel about it until it’s midnight and he’s sobbing his eyes out.

- Has the most contagious laugh ever. You hear him laughing at something? Surprise, now you’re giggling like and idiot.

- Writes really neat in all caps so there’s no room for misinterpretation.

- When he starts to forget what his parents voices sounds like he nearly breaks down. He can remember his dad cracking jokes and his mom laughing but their voices are all distorted. As his memory of them crumbles so does he.

- Usually puts too much effort into decorating the Christmas tree. They never have the best looking Christmas tree because money is tight but he spends a lot of time decorating. He makes them beautiful.

- Saves every card and drawing his brothers give him so when he’s feeling really low he can look back at the little ‘Love, Pony and Soda’ and feel better.

- Would unironically stand outside if there’s a tornado warning and look for it.

- Sometimes runs into Cherry at the library and thinks she’s nice, they usually end up talking about Pony and that always ends up with Darry saying how proud he is of him and Soda.

- He only likes fighting bc it was one of the only things he was better than the Socs at. Now that he’s older and has other priorities he doesn’t care for it.

- Really enjoys working his second job at the library. It he finds a book he thinks Pony would like he checks it out for him.

- Always looks out for Curly and Angela. Like, he knows Tim’s a great older brother but it doesn’t hurt to have someone else looking out for them too. He helps them out of scraps with Socs and lightly scolds them when needed.

That’s all for now, thanks for listening to me ramble ❤️

[jennilah]

hi there!

please do share your thoughts on canon vs non canon (TO YOU) scenes from saw if you feel like it

this seems like a fun topic to explore 👁

i was thinking about this all day im gonna hella ramble too much

to reiterate and expand on what i kinda said in that post's tags: im genuinely cautious when it comes to the canonicity of deleted scenes and script changes for most things because, well, things dont get included in the final product for a reason sometimes.

trust me i know about deleted scenes. ive had months of work erased from existence because of deleted scenes. and sometimes it really was for the best

and im equally if not more skeptical of things like.. lore coming from outside sources. if its not in the original media, its questionable. film novelizations, game adaptions, spin-off comics, all that stuff is usually written by some third party with little to no input from the real writers. unless it gets some serious seal of approval and that shit actually gets referenced in the next film, then im like "ok im listening." Otherwise, i shrug it all off as maybe-canon side adventures until contradicted

THAT SAID

sometimessss those nuggets of lore or characterization from deleted scenes/iffy canon off-shoot material are sick af so we just kind of adopt it anyway!!! we all do it!!!

ALSO

FUCKIN. The goddamn Saw franchise makes me insane with the different cuts of each film so we basically choose our favorite canon already. so. its a bit loosey goosey here sometimes

ok first of all i KNOW im gonna forget things so imma just kind of list and describe what i can remember off the top of my head. i dont actually have things like the scripts memorized i only know some moments that get passed around between us little freaks like drugs

like this one

i dont care if this doesnt happen on-screen in Saw IV, it happens in my heart

and this little bit of characterization from all 3 goofballs here despite us not really seeing much of it in the film:

Strahm being a butthead just interrupting Perez and Hoffman having a nice little talk because he hates his ass so much

Hoffman being more of the annoying little flirt that i know he is in my heart

Perez being charmed by him, the two of them having a cute little bonding moment as acquaintances for a moment there, and then STRAHM AGAIN being a butthead

i love them. i LOVE THEM

its very important to me that Perez kind of liked Hoffman. it makes his betrayal hurt so much more

this whole moment. i love this. ough. as much as i loved this scene already, in my head i pretend the scene played out like this....

falls onto his ass

angel of death

my fucking goodness

also, i cant list off everything because theres so much its a little depressing, but there's a lot going on in the Saw 3D script that is tragically cool. they really leaned into Hoffman going off the deep end and i enjoyed that. and how grisly his scar was originally supposed to be, and the symbolism with his declining mental state. and his interactions with Lawrence being a little more fleshed out. its just kind of neat. i think the film would have been a bit stronger if they stuck closer to a few of their earlier ideas

edit: OH MY GOD HOW CAN I FORGET ABOUT DELETED FILMED SCENES LIKE THE ROCKSTAR MOMENT. THAT HAPPENED OK U CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. and amanda is 100% haunted by what she did to Adam

and as for spin-offs that are absolutely not canon, this description of Hoffman from the video game from Tapp's POV is intriguing.

i love annoying and weird colleague Hoffman but i also really enjoy the idea of shy and weird colleague Hoffman.

also, boring cop Hoffman who wont bend the rules? that is so much more interesting than the hashtag brutality moment.

too bad this game is like. well. yknow. not very good. i dont think thats a controversial statement

but you know what IS good?

Saw the Musical

thats canon to me. no notes

[agusthoneyd]

i think it's funny that its always mapplethorpe

[thschei]

My mom got home and immediately handed me an ipod classic and said "[Patient] told me her ipod won't hold a charge anymore, so I told her you might be able to fix it, or at least show her how to rip the music library onto her computer"

and I said . "I've told you to stop telling people I can help them with technology ."

And then I noticed the ipod actually still had a full battery (but I'm sure, like my barely functioning ipod classic, within a few seconds-minutes the battery would die), so I glanced through the menus, mostly because I still feel very nostalgic for using ipods & find the tactile buttons/audible clicking/whirring to be a lot more appealing than keeping music on a purely touchscreen torture nexus, but I was also curious about how recent the music this patient listens to is

So I said . "Oh hey, she has Rick Astley on here!"

And after a few minutes she goes . "I have that fucking Rick Astley song stuck in my fucking head." and I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed

[weebsinstash]

I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

[sunshinescribes]

Sweat for Me

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Summary: You think this might be your favorite thing in the entire world. Law beneath you, whining and whimpering through his third orgasm. (A/N: I was going to post this for kinktober but fuck it, needed to get this out of my system)

Warnings: SMUT, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms (mentioned), Praise Kink, Submissive Law, Law is kind of a brat (which is canon to meeee), Begging, Creampie

You think this might be your favorite thing in the entire world.

Law beneath you, whining and whimpering through his third orgasm.

You watch intently, rocking your hips slowly, continuing to ride him despite the way his whole body twitches as he comes down from his high. Law is so pretty—so hauntingly beautiful like this, tan skin flushed, lips parted, and dark lashes caressing his cheeks as he battles to keep his eyes open—this is beyond compare.

Usually he’s the one in control, caging you in with his lithe body as he fucks you into the mattress with that smug smile playing at his lips. His goatee brushes against your skin while he whispers pure filth into your ear. Fuuuck, sweet girl, you’re squeezing me so tight. Want me to go deeper? Hmm? You think you can take it all?

You love those moments, but this is so much sweeter. You work the tension of a particularly harrowing day out of him, allow him to lounge while you do the work, give him anything—everything he needs—maybe even more, but he deserves it. Your captain, who plots and worries—rarely ever thinking about himself.

"Too much—fuck, sweetheart, I—" Law chokes on a soft whine when your needy cunt squeezes him. He’s barely comprehendible, his mind stuck in a pleasant haze where the art of language eludes him. You feel your lips curl into a prideful smile, knowing that you’ve reduced this brilliant man into a babbling mess.

"I’m takin’ care of you, Captain," you whisper softly, dipping down to gently kiss the corner of his mouth. Law turns his head, tries to capture your plush lips, but you pull away before he can. He’s too spent—too fucking boneless—to chase you.

Law actually pouts. You don’t know whether to blame it on the sex-induced delirium or if he’s genuinely disappointed to be denied a kiss, and it takes everything in you not to laugh at how damn cute he is, though you’re certain doing so would only earn you a fiercer pout, maybe even censure.

"Just one more handsome," you sigh, tracing the curve of his sharp jaw, brushing your fingertips against his soft sideburns and stubble. "You can do that for me, can’t you?"

Law trembles under your touch—leans into it while his tired eyes gaze up at you. He swallows thickly before finally answering with a weak nod, dark, damp tresses nearly falling over his eyes.   

"Y-yea."

God, you want to burn the image of him like this in your mind forever. Recall it every moment of every waking day until you turn to dust.

You smile down at him and begin to move your hips once more. Law jolts as soon as you do and grits his teeth to stop from crying out. You feel his tortured dick pulse inside of you, so needy and spent and ready to pour everything he has to give into you again.

You grind down on him in slow, tantalizing circles—more taunting than pleasing—and you know you’ll be repaid in kind soon. Law will work you just as hard, make you come twice as much the next time he has you bent over his desk or trapped between his body and the cold metal walls of the Polar Tang.

You don’t mean to be cruel, but the low groans and soft curses that pass his lips are so delicious. A part of you never wants this to end—wants to have him trapped inside you forever while you coax another sweet release out of him. And another. And another.

Law places a trembling hand on your hip as you continue to rock shallowly. "Fuu—FUCK, baby, p-please—"

Neither of you are certain of what he’s asking for, but when he bucks his hips to push himself just a little deeper inside of your soaking heat, you decide to be merciful.

You lift slightly, just enough to see the base of his glazed dick, before slamming back down. A desperate cry rips from his throat as you ride him. It hurts—hurts so good he can’t bite back the strings of curses that pass his lips, or the shameless whimpers that spur you on, make your movements rushed and sloppy, even as your legs begin to burn again.

"T-that’s it…" You place your hands on either side of his thighs, taking Law deeper—making him hit that sweet, spongey spot inside of you. You feel the heat in your core building, and you know he’s close—ready to burst inside of you one last time.

"You ready?"

Law nods and mumbles something you can’t make out over the squelch of your hungry cunt, swallowing him over and over and over again. You think of the mess you two are making—the evidence of your desires staining the sheets. You wonder if Law will use his devil fruit powers to clean them, switching out Shachi or Penguin’s laundry with two simple words and the flourish of his hand, much to the disdain of your fellow crewmates.

You’re ripped from your ruminations as his slender fingers dig deeper into the flesh of your hips, nearly bruising. He weakly thrusts up into your heat, chasing his release.

"You—hngg—s-said this was your pussy, right?" Your voice is airy as you rub your delicate nub, nearly there. "Then come in it."

Law swears he sees fucking spots in the corners of his vision, but he isn’t in the state of mind to be even a little concerned. He chokes out your names, practically folds into himself while he comes, long and agonizingly hard. It’s a beautiful sight, watching him gasp and blink through his orgasm until your sopping pussy is filled to the brim.

You follow after him, your walls fucking seize him, and a wave of aftershock hits Law violently, making him clench his jaw so hard it hurts. Tender praise falls from your lips—shiiit Law, you came so much, did s-so good. You lean forward, crying into his tattooed chest as ecstasy rips through you, making your ears ring and your heart beat madly in your chest.

You sigh contentedly when it passes, shaking slightly against Law’s powerful body.  

He cracks open a tired eye as you lift your head slowly. You kiss his jaw and mutter more praise against his sweaty skin.

You know you’re pushing your luck with the favor you’re about to ask.

"What is it?"

You don’t know whether you’re incredibly easy to read or if Law is just that perceptive. Fatigue causes his voice to come out deeper. If you weren’t running on the final reserves of your energy, you might have attempted another round.

"Can you do…the thing?" you ask sweetly, lifting your hand and outstretching your fingers in explanation. "Gotta get cleaned up."

You look up at Law with pleading eyes, attempting to look as cute and innocent as Bepo, though you’re almost certain you’re too disheveled and fucked out to even come close.

He sighs, lifting his tattooed hand. "This is the last time…"

You smile, mumbling your thanks.

“Room. Shambles.”

[mypimpademia]

— The Teacher (pt. 2)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Little Megumi wonders if you’re his new mom, and Gojo finds himself wondering the same thing.

TW: None

Note: click/tap here for part 1! or Click/tap here for part 3! I forgot to mention it in the first part, but ig it was kinda implied, Gojo is 29 in this not a teen like he was in canon. Gojo is also very briefly implied to get around

⇶ Satoru stuck to his promise of taking you out

⇶ He left Megumi with Utahime for the night, and made sure that everything was perfect for you

⇶ Truthfully, he went a little overboard out of his own anxiety

⇶ Booked reservations for one of the nicest restaurants in town, deep cleaned his house (just in case), got his already clean car detailed, bought a new suit despite having many hardly-worn ones in his closet, stalked your socials for hints at what you might like, and more that he’d be far too embarrassed to ever admit to

⇶ Satoru picked you up from your house at 6 pm, knocking on your door with a giant bouquet of flowers in hand

“You look incredible.”

Those were the only words Satoru could come up with when he saw you.

He always thinks you look incredible, but seeing you all dressed up outside of your usual work attire was a nice change of pace, and you looked effortlessly beautiful.

“Thank you, Toru,” you beamed. “You look pretty,” you told him, scanning over his tall figure, clad in a deep blue suit.

‘Toru’, ‘pretty’. He nearly passed out on your porch.

Satoru smiled, clearing his throat in an effort to gather his bearings as he fought back the deep blush that was crawling up his face.

“For you, mon chéri,” he said, in a corny fake French accent, presenting the large bouquet of flowers to you.

They were neatly wrapped in a brown paper, and tied off with a white bow. From just the look of it, you could tell they were expensive.

“These are my favorite,” you gasped, taking them from him. “How’d you know?”

He stalked your instagram and found a post from a year ago where you said you loved them.

“Lucky guess,” Satoru smiled. “Y’ready to go?”

⇶ He led you to his shiny black sports car, opening up the door for you to get in

⇶ It even smelled expensive, and the fresh scent of car shampoo was still lingering. You could tell he had it cleaned just for this, but didn’t say anything

⇶ When you got to the restaurant, out of place was an understatement for how you felt

⇶ You were just happy you decided to dress nicer than you had originally planned

⇶ Looking around, the restaurant was beautifully decorated, and the people dining were dressed just as beautiful

⇶ The more time you spent with Satoru, the more that you realized you knew next to nothing about him

⇶ Where does he get all this money from? What does he do for a living? Who is he, really? And what’s up with the sunglasses?

⇶ You will admit, the mystery only made him all the more attractive, but you had a newfound determination to peel back his layers

⇶ But your first date might not be the best time for that, so you were willing to let things unfold naturally for now

⇶ Satoru insisted that you ordered whatever you want off the menu because he was paying, and ignored your protests

⇶ You hopped around different topics of conversation throughout dinner, and you did eventually make it to the subject of work

⇶ Satoru asked you what exactly made you want to teach preschool, or teach at all, and watched your eyes light up

⇶ Teaching was undoubtably a job you need to have a passion for, and you had more than enough passion for it

⇶ You told him that you’ve always had an interest in teaching, and loved kids and thought they were precious, sacred even, and that their early years are the best part to watch and be a part of

⇶ Satoru’s heart was getting ready to leap out of his chest just watching you talk about something you love so much

‘She’d make a great mom for Megs…’

⇶ The thought surprised even him, Satoru wasn’t sure if it was genuine or intrusive, but it had him glancing at your features and around him to make sure he hadn’t accidentally said it aloud

⇶ He told you that all the kids were lucky to have you, and that seeing you take care of Megumi and all those kids with ease made him feel like his worries from adopting were pointless

⇶ He glazed over the adoption part so easily, you almost missed it

⇶ Sure, you were more than well aware that Satoru was a single father, and when you saw that his last name was different from Megumi’s, you just assumed it was his mothers last name

“It is his mothers last name, but he’s not at all my biological kid. I adopted him from… a friend.”

⇶ You had removed a layer from Satoru, only to find how thin it was in comparison to the amount he had left

⇶ The revelation answered some of the questions you had, and left you with even more at the same time

⇶ Just based on the hesitation he showed, you knew better than to press any further, and changed the subject

⇶ The rest of dinner went smoothly, and you and Satoru once again went back and forth about the bill before he was calling the waiter back to take his card

⇶ On the drive back, Satoru asked if you wanted to see Megumi since Utahime’s house was in the same direction as yours

⇶ You said yes, because of course you wanted to see Megumi, and because it was getting harder and harder for you to say no to Satoru

⇶ When you arrived at Utahime’s, Megumi lept at you before he even said hello to Satoru

⇶ Satoru feigned being hurt by the action, but Megumi still payed him no mind, directing all his attention to you

⇶ Satoru thanked Utahime for watching Megumi, and you overheard her saying something about not dumping his kid on her again

⇶ Megumi had you sit in the backseat with him, and told you about all the stuff he did at Utahime’s

⇶ All the sudden, he asked why you and Satoru were all dressed up

“Did you guys go on a date?”

You and Satoru shared a questioning look through the rear view mirror, one that asked ‘Should we tell him?’.

“Sure did little man!” Satoru told him, but Megumi didn’t seem too surprised by his answer.

“Oh, Dad goes on a lot of those,” Megumi said, before going back to playing with the plastic dinosaur in his lap.

Satoru was rethinking all his life choices in that moment. He gulped back the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, already going over how exactly he could explain that to you later on.

To his surprise, he heard you laugh at Megumi’s comment.

“But I’m your favorite, right?” You asked the boy, playfully nudging him. He turned to you with big wide eyes and smiled.

“Yup!”

⇶ Dropping you off at your house, Satoru thanked you for letting him take you out, and haphazardly tried to apologize for Megumi’s little comment and explain himself

⇶ You told him it was fine, and thanked him for the night, hugging him and planting a kiss on his cheek

⇶ Satoru froze up at the action, but managed to say bye to you as he collected himself and you disappeared into your house

⇶ When he and Megumi got back home, Satoru made a point to explain to Megumi why he couldn’t just throw out information like that to people, especially you

⇶ While putting on the boys pajamas in the dimly lit dinosaur themed room, Megumi yawned out a question

“Hey, dad,”

He spoke through a yawn while rubbing his eye with his fist. Satoru hummed back in acknowledgment, straining out the bottom of the little boy’s pajama shirt

“Is Ms. L/n gonna be my mom?” Megumi asked, looking at Satoru with low, sleepy eyes.

Satoru thought back to the statement that popped into his head during dinner. You would make a great mom for him.

“Um,” Satoru started, tucking Megumi underneath his comforter. “I dunno yet.”

He was honest. He didn’t know if what he was feeling for you was real or if he was just in over his head.

“I hope she is,” Megumi muttered, huffing out as his breathing turned into soft snores.

“Me too, Megs.”

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari @goldenglow149 + @torusmochi

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[neolxzr]

OK so heres some of my favorite things that were talked about during the enter the florpus commentary thing yesterday:

one of jhonen's favorite things in the whole movie is the writing in zim's kitchen that says "do anything is real?"

they clarified specifically that gir was not lying and he did in fact eat a baby at the crazy taco

gir smells REALLY bad. theres like rotting organic matter in his body at all times. he stinks

zim's human suit is made out of actual human skin

zim is acting drunk on nacho cheese during that scene in his house because richard horvitz recorded it while drunk

they planned to have this whole thing with tak's ship only agreeing to go to moo-ping 10 because it knows tak is there. they wouldve shown her in silhouette during that brief explosion and she wouldve stowed away on the ship without anyone knowing and then wouldve shown up towards the end of the movie, but they decided to cut it out

zim did not need to frame membrane for a crime in order to get him into space prison and likely just tossed the guards like 5 bucks for it. its a shady place. they did specify though that if he did frame him for something, it would have been jaywalking

they pointed out during that scene where zim is celebrating peace day on dib's lawn that zim's reaction to seeing dib was very much genuine and that's just how his brain works. he is genuinely surprised to see him pop out of his own house. (they also described his reaction as like "being surprised to see your best friend")

the ham joke was ABSOLUTELY CRITICAL to the film and at some point jhonen remembered it and was like GUYS. WE ALMOST FORGOT THE HAM

there was supposed to be this joke where it cuts to and from gaz and dib in tak's ship and they would've had to stop at like a warp station or something and theyd be waiting in a long queue of spaceships and the radio is broken in the ship so theyre stuck listening to that one song. then itd cut to them like totally braindead drooling from listening to it for so long. and then a little later itd cut back a FINAL time and theyd know all of the words and both be singing along to it. but this was also cut out so only the last bit remained

when asked "who would win: minimoose or mrs. bitters?" the answer was along the lines of "neither, i think all of us lose in that scenario"

the tallest are just two dudes who happen to be the same height and therefore have to share the same job. they are not brothers and they are also not gay lovers ("as much as you want them to be, they are not. there is no love in this universe")

skooge is in fact alive and lives in zim's basement. they wanted to keep the number of "hey remember this thing from the tv show!" moments to a minimum so he was not mentioned in the movie. but he is there

[absolutebl]

TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023

This is just me with my analysis hat on. 

1. 2023 = the year EVERYONE went outside their lanes

Everything went topsy-turvy this year in BL. 

For example, Korea gave us agonized yearning and outright queerness (The 8th Sense, The New Employee) while Japan served up soft office workers and tender family (Our Dining Table). 

The BL world went askew for a while, especially in the spring of 2023. 

Not that we still didn’t still get Korea’s soft angsty bubbles or Japan’s “what are you doing and why does it hurt?” kink-fests. But there were quite a few BLs that made us chronic watchers sit up in confusion and wonder if Korea was dabbling in Taiwan’s territory or Japan in Thailand’s. Then they fudged the kisses and we were like... okay, back in familiar territory. 

In contrast, Thailand stayed course-correcting for the damage they’ve done in the past with tropes (2022) and self referential meta criticism (2021), but also almost aggressively returned to their BL roots after last year’s series of shockers. Certainly, they are reexamining those roots, transplanting some, aerating others. But they really went back to classic Thai university and high school BL and pulps in a big way in 2023. 

Taiwan is always difficult to gage because they produce so few but they seem to have stuck with what they do best with no deviation while producing more this year than they have in ages. I’m happy for that, why change a good thing? But there is a tiny part of me that really wants them to hit it out of the part with a quality piece soon. For me, We Best Love still reigns supreme, but I would really like the HIStory franchise to give us that level but longer - like a happy version of Your Name Engraved Herein. I think Taiwan has the chops to give us something as good as The 8th Sense or Old Fashion Cupcake but in their style, and I would like to see them exercise their talent for good rather than just profit. 

I know, what a very odd thing for me to say. But if any BL is going to break into the mainstream American market, I genuinely think it’s most likely come from Taiwan. 

Vietnam and the Philippines are falling behind, in general. They just didn’t bring out very many shows in 2023, and what the brought out tended to fub the endings. This is forgivable in Japan (because of their style and quality) but not what watchers want in the lower production value propositions. In other words, if you do a pulp, you can’t mess up the ending (by romance standards). that doesn’t look to be changing anytime soon. 

2. The Office Romance Dominated

After years of Thailand serving us an endless (and slightly bland) buffet of university (and a few high school) BLs, this year Korea was basically like...

Ofiice. We like the Office. It’s cheap to film we can use grown up actors, acting (mostly) their actual age. 

And yeah... it totally worked. 

To be fair, Japan has always given us office live action yaoi from the beginning (they had the source material) but this year everyone else, including Thailand, seriously started playing in this setting. 

3. Boys Danced with Boys

The darling @heretherebedork​ was a big fan of this one, and I rather like it myself. Prior to this boys dancing together was very very rare in BL, but this year we got way more than our fair share. It was lovely. 

Never Let me Go

My School President 

Bed Friend 

The Day I Loved You 

Step by Step

Be Mine Superstar

Tie the Not 

Dangerous Romance

I think there were a few more. These are the ones I remembered to write down. 

4. Getting (even more) Meta With Tropes 

BL has been getting more and more meta over the past few years but this year they really focused in on tropes specifically. Calling out their own biggest and most favorite tropes in a massive way, especially Thailand and especially GMMTV. 

Like they tunneled in on damaging tropes with Bad Buddy and the like over the past 2 years, and now they are just having fun with us. 

I mean they just started the dancing trope and already they are calling it out? That’s like rapid-fire regurgitated meta there, GMMTV. 

5. Cameos are the norm now 

Taiwan has always loved cameos but in the past the other countries have been show and steady with only one or two a year. (Unless Japan does a parody.) 

This year Korea got in on the game.

Korea rarely starts trends but they do adopt smaller and lesser known existing ones and make them super popular. 

This year they did that with cameo couple appearances, even borrowing a few of Thailand’s pairs (TutorYim and MaxNat traveled north). They did it so much I stopped tracking. Love Class 2, Why R U?, and Jun & Jun were the heaviest hitters. 

Taiwan, of course, came back swinging. Kiseki was the gum-ball machine of pair cameos. (In Taiwan mafia = gay.) 

6. We are entering the cross pollination age

The number of remakes picked up or started this year was startling, not just countries revisiting their own content (Thailand, Japan) but countries revisiting OTHER countries stuff.

Lemme explain...

Korea has started remaking Thai content (Why R U?) alongside cameo'ing Thai pairs.

Thailand is doing Korean IP (My Dear Gagster Oppa) and has 2 Chinese ones slated for next year. 

GMMTV acquired a lot of Japanese IP (Cherry Magic, Ossen, and My Love Mix Up) - and then had problems distributing it. 

This is probably the most surprising trend for me. Especially the Japanese stuff. I would have thought these properties well outside of Thailand's price range (even GMMTV's) not to mention Japan’s legendary IP issues (I swear I typed this pout before the pulled TayNew’s excellent Cherry Magic). 

Also why not option some of the older popular manga instead? Bet that's much cheeper. (I did see a NEW Thai translation of Finder into Thai, which is 90s yaoi, so I have my fingers crossed on that front.)

I shouldn't be too surprised. 

Thailand is running out of y-novel content. Their publication industry is just not robust enough (I was just talking to a friend about this at length recently). But I didn't think they had the funds to option, especially from Japan. 

Perhaps the option deals are for peanuts?

7. Korea got cheeky

I’m not sure quite how else to put this. 

After finally figuring out boys can kiss, Korea started to do not just higher heat but playful higher heat, with more aggressive word play and linguistic innuendo, like they are entering their racy rom-com teenage years (Why R U? Love Class 2 and Jun & Jun in particular.) 

I guess: Welcome to your BL teens, Korea? 

It’s cute of them. I am very much enjoying it. 

And now that comedy is warming them up, we get to see them play with actual queer burgeoning physicality in shows like The 8th Sense. 

It’s nice. I like seeing Korea stretch its wings. They still stick to their bubble, but that bubble seems to be expanding. 

8. The Amnesia Trope is back

And I, for one, would prefer to forget about it. 

9. BL got trendy 

I’m not quite sure how to articulate this category but basically we started seeing a lot of “modern” romance trends out of the west (like a/b/o) show up in our BL. Not a ton and sometimes quite small, but there has a been a steady rise of things like: no seme/uke, femme gay, out gay, condom use, messy gay. 

We also got an increasing range of sub genre frameworks (like mafia, office setting) that’s moved BL pretty firmly (even in Thailand) out of school and into the workplace, whether actual working is involved or not. 

It’s not to the point where it feels like we get more non-school BL than school BL (if I include all countries in this assessment).

Japan, in classic Japanese fashion, quietly started moving in the opposite direction. It’s what they do. 

10. The Vampires are coming 

This is an announcement trend, which I don’t usually report on but it’s so CLEAR. 

So last year we had a spate of announcements of possible Omegaverse (2 from China, 1 from Japan, 1 from Thailand - the only one that’s happened). 

This year we got 5 Vampire (or vampire-esk) Thai BLs announced including one from GMMTV. 

Whether all 5 will actually get made is unlikely, but having had (basically) none prior to this (Kissable Lips), I’m pretty confident that we will get at least 2 of them. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at least one other country made one as well. (Side eyes Taiwan with interest.) 

Final thoughts

It feels like we are also seeing a decline in BL (both by quantity and quality) from Vietnam and the Philippines. As you all know, I don’t track or really watch either of these two very closely. But it feels like, now, no one else is either. 

I think we have likely seen the BL heyday already in both places and their industries are now on the decline. 

We might be witnessing a thinning in the players in the BL field. 

FYI we had approximately 

136 BLs in 2023

Previous Years

2022: 117

2021: 95

2020: 62

2019: 40

2018: 30 

2017: 44 (China’s last gasp)

2016: 27

2015: 17 (50% micro)

2014: 17 (50% micro)

And that’s it! Let me know in the comments if you’ve spotted any additional trends you want to call out.

Last year, 2022′s trend report

2021′s Trend report

Last Year’s Stats & Predictions

(source) 

[erwinsvow]

not to derail at all but i see your kook!reader (cause I love it, and how catty she is) at midsummers and raise you, pogue!reader having to choose between jj and rafe, when the gang decide to ditch the party. she’s there as kie’s +1 and when the whole thing goes tits up reader is stuck between the guy she’s been crushing on for years or the kook king who clearly has the hots for her which she not against.

also, you are genuinely one of my fave writers on this hellsite 😍😍😍 notifications on and every thing

baby i am gonna sob you are SOOO nice. notifs on? i am so beyond flattered. i love u <33 this idea is GOLDEN oh my god the brainrot im having rn. im gonna try to write a little for you but i cant even put it into words

kiara said you'd make the whole thing a lot more bearable. plus, out of your little pogue group, you were her parents' unspoken favorite, so it just seemed natural for you to tag along to midsummers as her plus one.

and as much you loved your best friend and thought the world of her for inviting you, your heart was pounding your chest while you got ready in kie's bedroom, applying make up and curling your hair and putting on your best (and one of your only nice clothes) dress.

dolled up like this, you even looked the part of the kook princess that you were sure was rafe cameron's type.

even the idea of thinking about him, and impressing him or him seeing you like this, felt guilty. it made a painfully acrid taste shoot into your mouth and run through your blood—there was no one your friends hated more than the boy you'd had a crush on for as long as you can remember.

it was stupid, ever even talking to him, getting involved and sneaking off for late night drives in his truck and meeting up in hidden corners where no one else could see. that's all it was though, secret encounters and a few kisses.

you hadn't let it progress further, knowing how your friends would react, knowing how rafe is. you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to tell you you're just like your pogue friends that he hates so much. he doesn't, though, that's what makes this so much harder.

out of all your friends, the idea of one in particular finding out there was or had been or was going to be something between you and rafe made you feel dizzy and uncomfortable all over. jj was always your closest friend, always the one you relied on for everything—he had helped you countless heartbreaks and emotions and moments of doubt.

a small part of you had always thought the two of you would end up together. everyone joked about it, pope and john digging into him for carrying you home when you get too drunk or lost your shoes on the beach, kiara teasing you when she finds out jj slept over your place again.

the idea of either finding out about your attachment for the other made you feel queasy. walking into midsummers with kie, the hem of your yellow dress rustling near your thighs, you thought you were safe since only rafe would be there tonight. you thought wrong.

rafe is talking to you when jj shows up.

"y'look nice." you stare up at him, unsure of what to say. "what? now i can't say somethin' nice?"

"when do you ever say something nice?" you ask, but your smile reveals itself before you can hold it back. rafe looks at you like he could get used to seeing you like this.

"m'always nice to you. i don't know, kid, this is nice. y'should come to the club with me some time." you laugh, looking down at your shoes.

"i don't know about all that-"

"hey, you. mandatory power hour at rixon's. c'mon, princess." you turn to see jj, face bruised and knuckles bleedng. you look back at rafe, and he looks smug, it's only then you notice his messed up hair.

"jayj? what's going on?"

"rafe, i mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, go away. tryna have a talk with my girl here, so-" your face burns.

"m'sorry, your girl?"

"apology not accepted. so if you could direct yourself over there to fuck off, that would be fantas-"

"j, wha- what's going on? how long have you been here?"

"long enough for cameron over here to set his little lap dogs on me. c'mon, i'm getting kie and pope and then we gotta go-"

"but, i, i-" you stop yourself, to think about what to say, when rafe cuts you off again.

"she's not going anywhere, we're having a conversation that you interrupted, fuckin' pogue."

"botherin' pretty girls, yeah, that sounds about right. get it through your thick skull, bud, she's not interested-"

"um, guys-" rafe shrugs, staring back at jj.

"that's not what she said last night. or the night before. so how about you do yourself a favor-"

"fuck's he talking about, princess?" jj looks at you, and you look at him, and then rafe, head spinning.

"yeah, kid, the fuck is he talkin' about?"

the glass in your hand drops and shatters when you faint and fall over.

[rainylana]

“Baby, are you okay?”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: drug deal gone wrong. eddie realizes just how important you are to him. requested by @sharp-and-swift

warnings: reader has a knife held to her throat, sexual assault (reader is touched inappropriately), language, drug deal, fluff, major hurt/comfort trope (my favorite), special appearance by uncle wayne.

give me love babes mother needs it<3

taglist!

@phantomxoxo @eddiemunnson @eddiemania @ohlovelyhollow @delilahtaylorsverson @tessiemessie @kellysimagines @underthebatcape @blowing-mikey @lillianofliterature @supercalifragilisticprincess @tripthlightfantastic @edzmunsonswife @itiscj @hearts4laura @livasaurasrex @mic429 @avobabe87 @lexthemess21 @noturmom15 @nothisispatric @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @fvcking-gxddess @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @justaproudslytherpuff @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @rovckwells @no0neknowsm3 @flowers-and-tsukki @cosmic-lavender @your-starless-eyes-remain @kaqua @softyutae @ahzysauce @imangy @chaos-incorp @ultimate-sdmn-trash @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @imdoingbetternow @fionnthebandersnacc @imabadarsebard @catherinnn @averysblog @antigoneidk @ches-86 @aa-li-yah @bellasfavoritesweatpants



If Eddie were an animal, he’d be a cat. Why? Because he had nine lives. He had more than nine, actually. He seemed to be void of all danger. Well no, that wasn’t true. Danger stuck to him like glue, but he was amazing when it came to getting out of it. Wayne teased him by calling him MacGyver and that he needed his own show. He loved the danger, the chaos of it all. It never bothered or got to him, atleast until one day when you were involved.

Eddie hadn’t had a bad drug deal in several years. The only people around Hawkins who needed a fix where high schoolers or lone wolves at the hideout. So, he didn’t think much about it when you asked to come along to his next destination.

You walked swinging your hands together, his fingers laced in yours as you crunched the fall leaves beneath your Chuck Taylor’s. It was supposed to be quick in simple. It was a friend of his uncle’s, who he’d never met, but he didn’t think much of it.

When you finally got to the designated meeting spot, you and Eddie sat across from each other at the picnic table in the middle of the woods, tapping your fingers and making small talk. Whoever you were meeting, was late. Eddie tiredly rested his chin in his palm, the cool air a bit nippy at his neck, but his jean jacket kept him warm. He offered it up to you, but you promised your orange sweater was enough.

“Ow.” You complained under your breath, finger scraping too hard at the wood beneath your palms.

“What’s wrong?” He creased his brow across from you, not moving from his position.

“Splinter.” You bit your lip, bringing it up to investigate. “Fuck, hurts like a bitch.”

“Here,” He reached out to take your hand and brought the tip of your finger up to his eye line, squeezing at the skin around it. He muttered a soft apology when you winced at his prodding.

“I think I got a knife in here somewhere.” He padded at his jacket, making you scoff and widen your eyes.

“You’re not cutting that thing out of me.” You shook your head. “Hell nah.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He hopped up and rounded the table to set beside you, holding your red, irritated finger. “Seems like we might have a no show.”

“Get that a lot?” You tried to ignore the pain as he squeezed the skin, gritting your teeth.

“Not really.” He focused on the wood under your porcelain skin, sticking out his tongue in concentration. “Just sell it to someone else if they don’t.”

The wind picked up a bit and shivered inside of your clothes. Eddie hummed and squeezed your wrist. “Told you you’d be cold.”

“Shut up.” You lightly kicked him. You were naturally a cold blooded girl. “Just get this tree trunk out of me.”

Eddie snickered and teased you by squeezing your pained skin, but he finally got it out as you sighed with relief. He took the splinter away from your cut it held it up with victory, a goofy smile on your face. “Tada.”

Victory was not held long though. The dark curtains of his hair kept him from witnessing the stranger from the corner of his vision, and you were too focused on the task at hand, and a scream lodged it’s way out of your throat when you were yanked up from the table.

It all happened so quickly. You were now being held up off the ground, a blade held thickly at your throat and a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Eddie was stumbling off the ground from trying to catch you, his eyes wide in a panicked fear.

“Don’t you fucking move!” Whoever it was behind you screamed into your ear, and you were hyperventilating as your eyes blurred with tears, heart racing like a wild stallion.

“Hey, hey, okay, okay!” Eddie begged, holding up his hands with an unhinged jaw. His eyes were wide and his face had gone pale.

“You got what I came for?” The man asked bitterly. Your body was pressed up against his, and you could smell alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. The sharp blade was right at your jugular, and you were whimpering, not able to struggle and paralyzed with fear, body stiff as the planks you had sat on.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I got it!” He nodded rapidly, eyes flicking between you and who he assumed, was his uncles friend. He needed new ones. “Just.. just, hey, you don’t gotta do this, okay? She’s..she’s not done anything. I’ll give you what you want just let her go, alright?”

Eddie’s voice was shaking, and you could only cry in your captives arms. Your eyes were so wide that it hurt your head, your body was shaking and you had to clamp your mouth shut from screaming.

“What else you got?” The man was larger built, dark hair and tan skin. He looked like a truck driver. Eddie hadn’t seen him before.

“Anything.” Eddie pointed back to his lunchbox. “Coke, weed, acid it’s all yours, man, just let her go!” He was more frantic with his words, knees barely buckling underneath him.

“Give it to me. Toss it over here.”

Eddie obeyed quickly, reaching behind him, arms still up, and tossed over his lunch box his your feet. “Now, let her go.”

You cried out when your body was bent over, the man reaching down to pick up the box. Your eyes never left Eddie’s, wide and terrified, your cries breaking his heart. With one hand, he opened the box and quickly scanned it, giving a satisfied nod. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

He still hadn’t let you go.

Eddie’s stomach twisted upside down when the man’s eyes started to observe the side of your cheek, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the man shushed you sickeningly. You were crying, tears dripping down you neck with soft sobs. You begged yourself not to move. One wrong motion and Eddie would be traumatized for life.

“Hey!” Eddie tried to get the man’s attention. “Let her go.”

The urgency in his voice made you break a sob, cringing and shying away as his free hand came up to pet your cheek, drifting down your hip. You tried to calm yourself. Freaking out would only make your case work, but you could only quiet down so much.

“Hey, don’t touch her, man!” Eddie snapped, taking a step that got the knife digging into your skin even more as he shouted at Eddie to stay away. The action, and the sudden burn of blood that leaked at the cut along your neck, made you hysterically sob and scream out, your legs giving out from under you.

“You shut your mouth before I slit her throat!” He screamed, only worsening your case. Your chest was heaving and you were begging Eddie with silent eyes to help you.

You but your tongue so hard you tasted blood when the man’s hand cupped the space between your legs, squeezing you and making your throat close. You had to look away from Eddie, not daring to let a full fledged whimper out.

“Stop! Fucking stop it!” Eddie screamed in desperation, stumbling on his feet with shaking limbs and wide eyes. “Please, please you got what you wanted, please let her go!”

He gave you a little jostle and licked your neck, rubbing the fabric of your jeans and making you grow cold. He gave your neck a little bite before he loosened his grip on you, removing the knife as he held it out to Eddie. “You keep your distance until I’m gone, ya’ hear?”

Eddie nodded as quickly as he could. “Yeah- yeah, you got it.”

Your body was set free but you couldn’t move, your hands froze in the air as you paralyzing stared off at the side. Your heart felt like it was going to explode. Eddie kept his eyes on the man, who kept the knife up, backing away deep into the woods. When he was finally gone from sight, Eddie ran to you.

It was like your brain had turned to mush. Your face was pressed into his chest and his arms were wrapped around your shaking body so tightly it almost hurt, then he’d pull away to look at your neck, grab your face and hold your hands, pulling you back in to hold you. He was speaking all the while, but you could only hear muffled words. His touches felt fuzzy and tingly, like he wasn’t really there. You couldn’t see clearly, and your tongue felt heavier.

“Come on, we’ve gotta get outta here.”

You didn’t hear it, but an arm wrapped around your waist and led you away from the forest.

•

“Eddie, what happened?”

Wayne had yet to take a sip from his freshly brewed cup of coffee when his nephew barged in with you by his side, shaken up as he ever saw them.

“We got jumped.” Eddie gulped, closing the door behind him, his hand holding yours tightly. “Some guy that..I don’t know, claimed to know you,” He was panting as he rambled, pausing to turn to you. “Hey, why don’t…here, honey, you need to sit down.” His voice had turned so much more gentle as he grabbed your shoulders and softly ushered you to a seat on the couch, crouching down below you. “I’m gonna..I’m gonna get something the clean your neck, okay?” He looked into your eyes and you gave a weak nod, not meeting them.

“Eddie,” Wayne said more seriously when Eddie ventured into the bathroom. “What the hell happened?”

Eddie stopped and his face went white, bringing a hand up to his forehead. He stepped around his uncle to close the door. “He..he came out of nowhere. I didn’t see him. He…he held a knife to her throat and- and he..he- touched her.” His voice broke and he could hardly get out the words. “Fuck,” He grew overwhelmed and covered her face. “He cut her neck a little bit but- fuck, Wayne he touched her right in front of me and she won’t- she won’t say anything, oh god, this is my fault. It’s my fucking fault, Wayne-”

“Hey, hey,” Wayne grabbed his face and pulled him close. “Calm down, Eddie.” He recognized the signs of his past panic attacks, his breathing erratic and face gone of color. “You’re alright. She’s alright. But now you know why this stuff is dangerous, right? You’re lucky nothing worse happened. It needs to stop, bud. You don’t gotta worry about money.”

“I know, I know,” He breathed, resting his hands on his uncle’s arms. “Fuck, Wayne, what do I do? I’ve fucking traumatized her.” He squeezed his eyes shut.

“No, you haven’t, Ed.” Wayne said calmly. “Just learn from this, okay? You’ll both be okay. Just need to calm down, alright?”

Your ears caught the sound of the bathroom door opening, but you didn’t look up. You said rigidly on Wayne’s sofa, knees up and arms laying loosely at your sides. Your face was pale and void of color, eyes glossed over and red, the skin around them swollen and irritated. You felt disgustingly gross. You heard Wayne fish for his keys in the pocket of his jacket, his boots padding in the carpet as he walked around the coffee table to stand next to you. You tried to smile when he bent down to give you a kiss on the top of your head.

Eddie came back to crouch in front of you, tearing open a first aid kit and looking through it’s contents. He muttered to himself about what he needed to find. He had a wet napkin sitting on his thigh, and he picked it and looked at you. “Is it okay if I clean it up a bit?”

You nodded softly and lifted your neck a bit, his hand soft on your skin. You tried not to cringe at the feeling, but you couldn’t help but get a flash of ptsd. You pushed it away. He cleaned as quickly as he could, his other hand rubbing your thigh softly. He kept looking up at you lifeless eyes, a frown on both of your faces. When he finished, putting a dab of Neosporin and a bandaid, he had to speak up.

“Baby, are you okay?” Of course, you weren’t. His lips were pulled down and his hands held your knees, his voice soft like a winter’s first snow.

“Yeah.” You forced yourself to speak, the crack in your voice betraying you.

“Y/n, I’m so, so sorry.” He pleaded, gathering your hands and kissing them. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He kissed up your arm until he got the dent of your elbow.

Never in his life had he felt so much love for another person. He always knew you were important to him, but important didn’t even grace it now. You were his life. Your spirit animal was not a cat, and you did not have nine lives. Eddie wanted to cry again. “I’m so sorry this happened, baby.” He looked up to you from your stomach. “Are you okay? Please, talk to me.”

You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t processing anything. The only thing you did feel was terror. Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find words. He could see the confused, complicated look on your face as he sat up. You grew panicked, but before you could get too overwhelmed he cupped your cheek.

“It’s alright.” He said softly, giving you a kiss on the lips, soft and delicate. “You’re alright, honey. Here, sit back.” You leaned back until you rested on the back of the couch, and he propped your feet up on his lap. He worked to untie your shoelaces, working them through the triple nots you tied. He managed to get one off before the damn broke.

When you let out a quiet sob, his eyes snapped up to you, face dropping. You were looking up at the ceiling, holding your stomach as tears fell down your neck as you cried steadily. Eddie disregarded his task at taking off your other shoe and sat beside you, shushing you softly as he pulled you down into his lap, your face scrunched up in his jeans. He leaned down to hold you tight, kissing your shoulder and offering words of apology.

Why did something so horrible have to finally make him realize how much he cared for you?

[fueledbysano]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊! bachira, nagi, rin, chigiri

blue lock boys giving you the second button of their uniform— a way of boys in Japan to express or confess their love for the person they admire. *second button: representing one's love

♱ ft. bachira, nagi, rin, chigiri

♱ content/warnings: gn!reader, university au, fluff, romance, making out.

♱ a/n: my blue lock debut piece! I'd love to write for a lot more of them but since this is my first time writing for the fandom, I'm trying out my skills first with my favorite boys. I really loved writing this one, here's for more!

♡ tags; @tokyometronetwork @blueparadis

♡ bachira

Bachira is a sports scholar of the university, which means he prioritizes his duties in the soccer team over academics. And you were an irregular student, since you came from a different university to shift majors. You have been friends with Bachira since the beginning of the semester because of your shared “weird” schedule compared to the other students in your year. When he is in the field, you’re on the benches, waiting for him to finish to attend your special class together, or just simply killing time together at a fast food or park.  Bachira genuinely thought that he'd be a loner when he first stepped foot in the university, but you made sure he never was. Which he appreciated in so many ways, so he started returning the favor by tailing you at all times too.

You weren't sure if it was simply a kind gesture, or he was genuinely intrigued with getting close with you. The thing is.. You were catching feelings for the boy. And it will change the course of your relationship. But you were actually the first one to confess.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You turn to Isagi, a mutual friend of you and Meguru. “Really?” He sounded amazed, finally proud that you acted on your feelings towards Bachira. You have been telling Isagi about how you wanted to “confess” to Bachira without having to stress on a cheesy message that high schoolers do, until Isagi gave you an idea of giving Bachira your name tag, a form of confession of girls to boys in Korea.

“[ Y / N ], this is for you!” Bachira yelled from the field as he dribbled, then kicked the ball straight to the goal. You smiled at him and stuck your thumbs out to cheer him on. “It’s all going to go well. I think he likes you too.” Isagi said as he stood up. “Who knows, maybe you’ll spend Valentine’s together!” He teased before jogging back to the field.

You didn’t exactly plan on how you will hand your tag to him. Should you do it like the ones on TV? Call him to a special place and then hand it to him? You tried to think of different places as you walked down the halls, running your thumb over the embroidered letters of your name on the patch.

At the corner of your eye, you spot the lockers outside the gym. You stopped your tracks when you realized that Bachira had one of those. Searching for his name, you slipped your name tag in between the thin gaps of the locker and hoped for the best. 

That night, you shut your phone off out of anxiety and decided to check it by tomorrow, when he’s probably seen your little gift to him. However, your body froze when his name still didn’t show up in your messages. Hasn’t he seen it yet? Or, maybe, he did… You waited all day for a message, heck, for him to even knock on your door but there was nothing. 

What if he just didn’t know what it meant? Maybe he’ll just return it when you see each other again which is… in two days. However, when you showed up in the field on Monday, bachira was nowhere to be found. Isagi also mentioned that the boy was barely texting over the weekend, which was the last straw in making you panic.

“I dropped the name tag in his locker! What if— what if he saw it and he’s avoiding me now?!” You held onto Isagi’s shoulders. “Wait, what?!” He exclaimed. “Okay, maybe I am a pussy for not giving it in person—” You rambled, until you noticed that Isagi’s eyes trailed behind you. “[ Y / N ], someone’s looking for you.” He spoke. You look at him in confusion before turning to your back. Bachira had just arrived and quietly looked at you, and then went back to Isagi. 

“[ Y / N ], can we talk?” He finally asks. “Yeah, sure.” You were obviously nervous. You’ve never felt this tense with Bachira before, especially when the both of you were dead silent as you headed to the campus gardens. 

“Well, First of all, I’m sorry—” For what simultaneously felt like a second and eternity, your mind jumped into the worst case scenario— a rejection. However, your mind quickly went back to reality when he continued talking. “There were lots of clothes in my locker and I believe this got buried at the bottom.” He held your name tag up with a sly smile. “I got sick over the weekend and didn’t see it until this morning, so… I’m sorry.” He chuckled.

“Oh… yeah, no worries.” You casually chuckled. “No, I definitely made you worried. My bad.” He insisted. You stood for a moment and looked into each other's eyes in silence before he reached for his shirt pocket, and handed you something.

Now that he knows for a fact that you reciprocate his feelings, he was confident. Before he went to you, Bachira called his mom and she gave her just the right push to show you just how much he adores you the same way you did.

You felt your body heat up when you realized it was the second button of his uniform shirt, sitting on the palm of your hand. Bachira had a shy smile as he watched you react to his response. “So… it’s Valentine’s day tomorrow and… I was wondering if you want to go out with me…” Bachira thought it was perfect timing and reason to ask you out, something he’d been on the fence for over a while now.

“Well, we always go out, but, I want to—” You reached your hands up to Bachira’s soft cheeks and offered him your lips before feeling him pull your chin towards him gently and eventually envelop his lips with yours. You kissed fiercely, smiling at each other's mouths.

“Of course, I do.” You whispered and hooked your finger into his belt loop and pulled him into a deeper kiss

♡ nagi 

Nagi was quick to realize his feelings for you, especially after Isagi teased him for blushing when you practically threw yourself into him for a hug when the team you were cheering for won the game. He wasn’t particularly fond of all the blushing when he unexpectedly meets you in the hallways or trying to speak to you without his heart racing. 

So he decided on confessing to you, but he wasn't quite sure how. Nagi is a simple man, he wanted it forward, but memorable. The fact that he wasn’t sure of your romantic preferences was what makes him nervous and taking quite long. 

The thoughts of his confession continued to haunt him, he would overthink about different scenarios during practice, and one time he even messed up a level in his game because he thought of you thinking he was too corny. Thankfully, the boys cut him some slack as they understand what he’s going through, at the same time, helping him think of ways to confess and ensuring he is cool enough to pull you.

On the other hand, you were clueless why Nagi started to suddenly choke on his words around you, but you think it was cute. One thing you liked doing for Nagi is watching his soccer matches. He is highly motivated in the field and took the game seriously. But when you walk up to him with a bottle of energy drink after every match, he’s back to being the shy boy, especially when his teammates not-so-secretly cheer and holler at your little interaction. 

“Hey, Nagi? Wanna get something to eat before going home?” You looked up at him hopefully. You lived close to him, but he lived further away from the university than you did. So you often walked each other home for convenience. With the exception of the one incident when Nagi started dozing off and you had to tow him along while he was seated on a skateboard.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Fried chicken?” You grinned at him. At this, Nagi smiled a little, but said nothing more. You two walked slowly out of the campus, and towards the place. The rest of the time, as you both ate, you spoke about somewhat common subjects like your weekend plans or any antics of his teammates. 

Nagi was contemplating how he could get the most out of this conversation, despite how much he wanted to hear you exclaim with excitement about your plans. Maybe after all, you were the final push he needed for his confession all along. Your heart felt like it was going to catch fire as Nagi appeared to mirror the sea of emotion that was in your eyes while he carefully listened to what you had to say.

You both finished your meals, Nagi insisted on paying the check, and you left the restaurant into the chilly evening air. “What’s the occasion?” You giggle when you put your coat on, and then meet Nagi’s serious expression. 

If he’s not scared, he’s not taking a chance.

And if he’s not taking a chance… then what the hell is he doing?

“[ Y / N ]...”

“Yeah?” Nagi now had everything planned out. The dinner was his treat, and tomorrow after class, he'll simply let the button of his uniform speak to you. “I’m going to confess to you tomorrow so wait for me after school, okay?” The anxiety was long gone but most certainly not the honesty. You were equally amazed and perplexed by his words. It was already a confession, wasn't it?

“Oi, why are you all smiley?” Nagi still doesn't realize his mistake of blurting out what was on his mind. “Because…. You already confessed to me.” You chuckled, looking up at him with a thin smile. “Eh—” Nagi recalled the words in his mind and had an internal panic attack. “F-forget what I said—”

“No, I refuse to forget that.” You took a step closer towards Nagi before slowly taking his right hand that redeemed all the terror in his system. “Tell me…” You spoke softly, toying with the collar of his coat. And so with an exhale, Nagi pulled on the second button of his school uniform before taking it to your hand that was intertwined with his, “one’s most beloved person.” He decreed.

You felt Nagi's hands raise your chin up, and before you could say anything, you felt his lips on yours. As you moved your lips against his, he waited patiently for your consent before proceeding. At first, Nagi’s eyes were a tangle of turmoil and both of yours were wide with optimism. You move forward towards him and put your hands up around his neck as you close your eyes in happiness.

The risk was worth it.

♡ rin

Three weeks had already passed since you were left hanging by a potential love figure; Rin Itoshi. And up to this day, you still feel like being swallowed to the ground every time you recall the memory. It all started when you happened to share drinks with him at an afterparty, in celebration of the win of their team in the national tournaments.

And with the help of alcohol, you had his number by the end of the night and started talking to him since then. Rin isn’t too much of a dry texter like anyone would assume, but definitely isn’t talkative either. Your usual greetings and ranting about your professors grew into telling how each other’s days went, sending pictures of something cool you saw, and even an unexpected shirtless mirror selfie of him in the locker room after a game.

It was like winning the lottery, really. Knowing that other people at campus died to even get his attention. 

Just when things seemed to go smoothly with Rin, you finally agreed to go on a date together in a simple cafe just around the town.  However, when you arrived at the hour you agreed on, he was nowhere to be found. He never arrived that night, nor did you message him ever again; you were too embarrassed and angry to bitch out on him, knowing well that having hard feelings with Rin never ends well. 

So you ignored him on campus as best as you can. You were doing good with your mission, until the day of your senior trip arrived. You were unfortunately sat next to him on the bus.  Rin didn’t show it, but he was floored. He didn’t dare to spare a glance towards your way, and neither did you. He was the one who stood you up, why is he the one acting smug? Rin remained unbothered and had his eyes peered on the cars and trees passing by, oblivious of the dagger stares you were now throwing at him.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” He spoke up and offered you an ear bud, still not making sure contact. “Oh, so we’re talking again?” You blurt, audibly upset with him. “I’m being nice.” Rin sighed. “I don’t wanna watch your stupid movie.” You spat and turned your back to him. “Have fun getting bored for the next four hours.” He spoke smugly. “Dick.” You mumbled and threw your hoodie over your head.

Rin knows what you were doing. You had every right to act the way you do towards him, just as he anticipated. He knows that there was nothing he could do about it, so he didn’t bother to even plan out a conversation with you. However, He wished that he would have dealt with things differently. You did not deserve to be stood up on that date and it is unfair of him to act like nothing happened. For the first time in his life— Itoshi Rin was conflicted and unsure.

You slowly fell into slumber as the bus’ movement rocked you like a baby. However, you shifted halfway through your sleep and fell right onto Rin’s shoulder. He wasn’t oblivious of this, but let you get comfortable in his touch anyways. Rin felt tense, startled, even. And you weren’t even awake. He was debating whether to rest his head on yours too, but before he could act, the bus was already pulling over at the beach resort you were heading to.

You woke up feeling suspiciously comfortable, realizing where you have been sleeping for the last hour. “Thought I had to drag you out of here.” Rin already had your bags in his hand. You threw him a quick thanks before heading straight to your respective room, loathing how you let yourself fall asleep on Rin’s shoulder for god knows how long. He probably thinks that you’re still chasing after him.

Shortly, you were now dipped in the pool with your friends and classmates. You knew you had to emerge when your fingers started to prune. You were surprised that Rin didn’t come along, considering that his friends, Aryu and Tokimitsu, were around. You were ready to call it a night until some guys in your year invited you to their room for drinks. Everyone seemed to be headed there right now, but you weren’t particularly in the mood for partying.

“I’m gonna have to pass tonight. I hope there's one tomorrow?” You awkwardly smiled at the visibly drunk guys. “Come on, we’ll make sure you have fun alright.” One of them spoke and took you by the wrist. “H-hey, I said I’m fine.” You tried to turn but the other guys were already blocking your way. “Scram. Junichi, Keisuke.” A voice coming from the staircase startled the brothers.

“[ Y / N ]’s coming with me. Leave us.” Rin’s first instinct was to cover your soaked swimwear and skin with his varsity jacket. “I totally had that.” You scoffed. “Come on, not even a ‘thank you’?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m really upset with you, you know?” You blurt with a sigh. “You’ve made that very obvious.” Rin flatly spoke, before breathing out, “You’re the only one in this university to genuinely get my interest.” “I didn’t show up because… I wanted to be sure.”He added.  “Sure of what?”

He was forward, but you liked how he also conformed into the button-giving confession style. You weren’t sure if Rin had picked up on you being a hopeless romantic, but it worked. “Be mine.” Rin said with a heartstopping smirk that showed just enough of his smile, the button to his uniform pinched in between his index and middle finger. You had no words at Rin’s sudden confession. 

You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned closer to you, slowly backing you against the wall. “Rin—” You whimpered at his touch, but his eyes glistened with adoration and lust, for none other than you. Rin leaned down slowly, his eyes only focused on your lips as he pressed his own softly to yours.

♡ chigiri

The most hesitant. He didn't really feel the need to tell you since he believed that his feelings for you were simply a passing infatuation, nothing more than a silly memory he would laugh about as you grow up. This just gave him the courage to openly express his feelings for you, which seemed to have succeeded given the energy you reciprocated.

However, when his accident happened, it was no secret that it took a toll on his career and relationship, including yours. Yet, it also truly astounded him and made him understand that you weren't simply just a silly crush.

You assisted him with his physical therapy when his family was unable to do so, you didn't get angry when he demanded space, you never missed an opportunity to distract him from his injury even just for the slightest second, and most importantly— you treated him in the same manner as before rather than looking at him with pity like other people might have.

You are the calm in the middle of the storm; and something about it just served to deepen his feelings for you. Chigiri believes that you made him better when he was back in the field in no time. However, bittersweet news came when he was offered an opportunity in Blue Lock.

You were often inside his mind during his entire stay in the project; wondering how you fared on your own, and also hoping that no one’s replaced his place in your life. 

So when he finished his goals at the project, he wasted no time in coming back home to his family, and you. However, a long time has passed and you have gone off to college in a different city. Chigiri's mother strongly encouraged him to follow suit and get a sports scholarship, considering that the term just started as well.

You missed Chigiri dearly, but proud of all his accomplishments in the Blue Lock project. So when you mother informed you that he had returned and is attending your university, you pulled every string you could to find out which program he took and where the hell he was; bringing you here to room 505 of the boys’ dormitory. “Damnit, it’s real.” The words barely came out of your mouth. Chigiri changed since the last time you saw him; the hair framing his face grew significantly longer, his body grew a more lean frame, and grew some height.

“[ Y / N ]!” Chigiri is floored, to say the least; finding you at his doorstep. He didn’t show it, but his heart was racing as you studied each other’s faces. He had been meaning to look for you but getting settled in took much of his time, but here you were now. “Mom told me that you went here and I never really saw you around—”

“It’s okay.” Chigiri held you in a big embrace and let you giggle over his shoulder before uttering a quick “Hi.” “So, I heard that you just got in?” You asked “Yeah.” “I never knew you were coming home.” You admitted. “Well, we have time before the next cup.” Chigiri explained, rubbing soft circles on your back.

“I’m so proud of you.” You smiled before pulling away. “How about we get some karinto and I’ll show you around?” You offered. “They serve karinto here?!” He exclaimed, mouth almost watering at the thought of his favorite dish that he hasn't had in so long. “Why else do you think I chose this school?” You remarked. “I’ll get my coat!”

You didn't seem to run out of things to tell the boy as you walked around the campus while he stuffed his mouth with the sweets. and neither did he; telling you about the friends and enemies he's made inside the project. “Everyone pretty much minds their own business here so you’re free to sleep or cry.” You were at the final stop on your tour and were pointing out the library to Chigiri through the window.

“Speaking from experience?” He teased. “Yes. Simultaneously.” You shamelessly admit, earning a laugh from him. “So, that’s about it.” You concluded before tossing the dessert packaging in the bin. “That was way better than the campus tour the president gave me.” Chigiri mumbled. “You already had a tour?!” You scolded. “Of course. I’m a celebrity now.” He winked. “Besides, I wanted a reason to spend time with you.” Chigiri laughed. “You’re so corny.” You hit a playful punch on his arm. “Let me tell you about the time when an opponent asked me what shampoo I use right before a match…”

After making another round trip around the campus, you returned to Chigiri's dormitory just as his story came to an end. “So, this is you.” You smiled as you stopped at his doorstep. “Yup. Right where you picked me up.” Chigiri remarked, wishing he could come up with something to stay with you longer. “It was really good to see you again.” You sighed and embraced him once again.

You almost melted in his presence when he returned the embrace while you felt his muscles hug you delicately. “I missed you.” He chuckled at the sudden affection. “I missed you too.” Your warmth made it impossible to leave. “Good night, Chigiri.”

Chigiri couldn’t get himself to open his door without you by his side. All the “what if’s” haunted him all at once as he watched you walk away slowly. He knows that you have some time together, but he wouldn’t let another chance slip again.

So with a deep sigh and a strong pull on his uniform button, Chigiri called for your name.“[ Y / N ]!”

“Oh, thank god.” You mumbled to yourself before practically sprinting to the man.  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Chigiri professed, taking your face in his hands. “I’m scared… I’m scared as hell to want you, but I’m here wanting you anyway. And the fear means I have something to lose, right? I don’t want to lose you.” He stammered and pressed his forehead against yours in a delicate embrace.

“And I’ve always liked you.” He opened his eyes and put his button in your own hand. “I like you too,” You gladly accepted his confession before finally closing the gap in between your lips. For a brief moment, he felt relief in his embrace before the kiss turned fierce. Chigiri blindly reached for the door knob before the door gave way and within a second, he already had you pinned on the other side of it.

[goldsbitch]

I could tell them where you were that night

part 3 to I gave so many signs

summary: They shouldn't. They really shouldn't...But they did.

warning: present + flashbacks, mature content, cheating, self pleasure, alcohol and smoking, typos

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

The Alibi - Dylan delicate - Taylor Swift

But if there was a crime If there was a body, if there was a knife If you told a real good, real bad lie I'd be standing by your side

Both of them knew this was not going to end well. This screamed "bad idea" on all levels. He should have just turned and run back home. She should have gone straight back to the bar as soon as she saw his unmistakable figure. There was no one to diffuse the tension, all of her friends were back upstairs ordering another drink. Nobody to play pretend to.

"So you're a smoker now," Charles said with a hint of disgust. She'd cursed herself for ever picking up the habit. He had never made her nervous back in the day, maybe she was cashing it in all now retroactively. Stood there like a lamb waiting for someone else to decide her destiny. Totally at his mercy and he had no idea. "Yeah, for a moment I was. Now just these," she pointed to the latest trendy vape in her hand, which Charles mistook for a cigarette. "Ah. Cool." "Not really," she said and inhaled extra large dose of fruity smoke just to breathe it in his face. The regular rules of proximity didn't seem to apply to to them. If he had been standing closer to her, he'd have to be touching her. "So, you're a runner now?" she took the opportunity she looked him up and down, trying not to let her imagination run too wild. "Always was." "No, you were not," she laughed genuinely. "What are you trying to play at here?" She was right. Charles picked up running with his first real girlfriend. "And what a bizarre thing anyway - to go for a run after a night out," she pointed out and he smirked, as both of them knew she got him with that. "I should not be seen with you for long. Doubt that you'd pass as a fan." It felt like an invitation from him, but she was well aware that he was not inviting her to his home. There was a strange spark in his face, as if he dared her to ask him to come over. Like a shameless devil testing her self control. "I'll take a cab and you can run over to my place. Let's see who'll get there first," she dared him back.

If there was a way That someone at the scene had saw your face I could tell 'em where you were that night You were standing by my side

"You should have told me that you parents were home!" he whispered angrily, as they snuck in like they used to back in the day. Funny how it worked like magic and Charles felt as if he just turned nineteen, terrified of running into Y/N's angry mom. "What? It's not like your place is empty, correct?" she shot arrows at him without waiting for an answer. Shot of guilt went thought Charles and he decided chased that by lying to himself, thinking that this was just a casual catch up with an old friend.

We can't make Any promises now, can we, babe? But you can make me a drink

Charles waited on the balcony adjacent to her old high school bedroom, that remained untouched for years, serving as a perfect door for nostalgia, while she made their favorite Moscow mule. He had tasted many of those since they last saw each other. None of those tasted so intoxicating like this one.

"So, big racer boy. Always wondered. Which out of the cities you go to is the most fun?" "Define fun. I'm sure your taste has evolved over the years." Yes, it had. No longer was she blind towards the god like man sitting across from her. "Ok, where did you fuck the most girls?" "Monaco," he smirked at her. He realized he enjoyed teasing her. No longer was he the shy love stuck puppy dancing as she demanded. "You became quite forward, huh? I remember you avoiding these subjects," he followed up, testing the waters. She gave him a long look, before letting a loud sigh out: "Charlie, it's been years. People change. Mature. Gain experience..." "And then come back to where they started, huh?"

Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head? 'Cause I know that it's delicate

He leaned a little too close for an old time friend. Slowly, he touched her hand and waited for her to stop him. When she didn't, he tangled his fingers with hers. No longer were they soft baby hands, but adult fingers with tender touch. "I missed you," he said quietly. Old habit kicked in and she avoided his eye contact. But this time, he put his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him, so that she couldn't just dismiss it, like she had so many times back then. "I missed you too." There was an urgency and a vulnerability that he had never heard from her before. It was addicting and intoxicating. He carefully closed the gap between them and their lips brushed so lightly that one could still pass it as friendly touch, if they really really wanted to. But with every second they kept their lips like that, the gap of morally safe evening kept closing inevitably. They stayed like that for just a few seconds, both of them waiting to see if the other one pulls away. Until finally, her lips moved slightly and then there really was no way back. Charles forgot that there ever was anyone else in his life and kissed her slowly. She took his bottom lip in and let her tongue lick it, breaking the soft kiss with urgency only years of daydreaming can bring.

Do the girls back home touch you like I do? Long night with your hands up in my hair Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs Stay here, honey, I don't wanna share

This was bad. Ugly, disrespectful and not something a friend would do. Charles was locked in room again having the luxury to spend few weeks in a sunny Monte Carlo. But sunny days at home also meant that he and Y/N were spending a lot of time together. Charles knew he was head-over-heels for this girl, but kept himself at bay. But these thoughts he was having were a little too much. Inappropriate. Made him feel dirty and shameful. He was just a teenage boy and he just came back from a beach day with his crush. It was impossible to focus on anything, he was suppose be studying for his exam, exploring race strategies, anything! He could have been a good son and helped his mom out. But no, instead he was pacing around his room, desperately trying to block all the images that got burned to his memory under that day's bright sunlight. Why did he even suggest a beach day - and why would she ever agree to that. Stupid idea. Charles was mad at himself for being so stereotypically teenage. For a split second, he stopped with the self-shame and allowed himself to recall this afternoon. Perfect Monaco sunlight hitting Y/N lightly tanned skin, her hair falling out of her messy bun, just begging for him to tuck it behind her ear. This was all still pretty innocent. But then there were the shoulders. The collarbone leading way towards her boobs, covered by a piece of bathing suite fabric, that pushed her cleavage up just a little bit, but it felt like a weapon designer specifically to destroy him. He had to stop himself from looking. When that proved impossible, he opted for looking only when he had his sunglasses on. If only he could take his hand and lightly brush over her nipples, which he couldn't forget about since the Moscow mule night. And then if only he could squeeze her boobs while tracing the line of her waste and over to her ass, also barely covered by a bathing suite. If only he was brave enough to do so, to make his wildest dreams come true and to confess his feelings. To have her come over to his place, look him suggestively in the eye, lick her lips and take him in her pretty little mouth. It didn't matter that she was slightly younger, in his fantasy she was the more experienced one, the one to guide him, instruct him and tell him what she likes. And once he learned, he would make her moan like nobody before, because he would adapt himself to any style she'd want. The visuals of a daydream extension of their today's hang out crept in, and there she was, taking her bra off and inviting him to join her in the water. Free, happy and heavenly hot. By some miracle he managed to avoid having a boner in her company. What he didn't manage was to stop stroking himself while drowning in the thoughts about her and her body, no matter how shameful it was for him. The best orgasm of his life yet had his hands covered with his cum and his head with clouded with growing, never-stoping need for a touch from his crush.

It was a different man kissing Y/N than the boy who had imagined it more times that he would ever admit. Yet still, he was getting to live out his ultimate fantasy, one that he almost forgot he had, until all the desire rushed back in and screamed so loudly he couldn't hear anything else. And the best thing? The best thing was that she was responding enthusiastically, felt as if she was hungry for something only he could have. He was a different man now, experienced, understood the spectrums of what touch could offer. The confidence radiated from him and it was Y/N who was now who danced way over the line of self control. It was her, who drank so much cheap wine in the form of men bad at sex, that she could finally appreciate the Montrachet Chardonnay she overlooked the first time around.

"We should get inside, mon cheri," he whispered into her lips. She understood why and did not want to hear him say it. Because in his silence, she could insert any thought and that was probably better than the hard truth - they were too exposed on her balcony. She nodded and slowly opened her eyes. Even with the dim lights she saw the tender spark in the most captivating shade of blue the world can offer.

Oh damn, never seen that color blue Just think of the fun things we could do

He pressed her to the door frame while devouring her lips. Lines have been crossed and the room was filled with unresolved sexual tension. Charles wanted her - naked and moaning in pleasure. She pulled his hair while they made out and each pull was like gasoline to the fire of his desire. He traced her side with his cheeky finger and then slipped his hand under her t-shirt only to trace the line of her bra and then swiftly cupping her breast. "So you're wearing bras now," he let slip out of his mouth, already fucking her in his thoughts. His comment sparked a distant memory of an evening long gone by now. She was shivering his touch and wanted more and more. "Yeah...but now you're not gonna have to touch yourself alone or secretely," she said, hoping he actually had done that in the past, trying to tease him once more, while grabbing the hem of his belt and pulling him even closer. It worked. He was hard as a rock. He pressed his cock against her and started kissing her neck. She wondered if he understood the cocktail of pleasure and arousal he was preparing for her and felt even a bit shameful to crumble so easily. He felt her cave into his embrace as soon as he touched her neck and made a mental note, so come back to this spot once he was inside her. He thought about her devilish finger making her way to his cock slowly, just painfully slowly. She was teasing him and while he was loving that, he couldn't wait a second longer. He grabbed her hand pushed right onto his erection, which cause her letting out a surprised gasp. "I'm gonna fuck you, Y/N. Say yes if you want me to," he whispered into her neck. Not much second guessing went into her reply. "Yes," she moaned out, causing shivers on his neck. "Really?" he said, unhooking her bra. She smiled. This was no shy unsure Charlie. This was a confident man with intension to make her feel good. "Yes..." With that, he pulled away to help her get her t-shirt off and get rid of the cursed bra. Finally, he could stare as much as he wanted to.

He fucked her like there was no tomorrow. For them there really wasn't a tomorrow, because technically, there wasn't suppose to be a tonight. It was to stay as a blank page, moans written in an invisible ink, for no one but them to read. Morning would bring trouble, reason would wake up and start ordering around. As long as the sun wasn't watching, they were safe, hidden in each other and wrapped by desire.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes I pretend you're mine all the damn time

part 4

--------------------------------------------------------- @linnmee @itsjustkhaos @rhythmstars @blueflorals

[thatsafuckeduptale]

First post is here! Please note y/n and Flowey aren't actually involved in the general "Clover gets stuck in the pizzaplex" thing and are entirely optional depending on how you wanna view it. If Clover survives the pizzaplex they get adopted by y/n (blah blah legal adoption shit), if they die they just kinda. Well they're dead.

Please note I do not condone or support Scott Cawthon and his opinions or politics. Anybody who tries to argue with me or say I support him will be blocked.

Scattered thoughts about the AU in the read more below, they won't be organized very well sorry.

*When clover gets stuck in the Pizzaplex the first boss they have to deal with is Martlet. They kite her around before getting her to ram into a fuse box causing her systems to restart and the anti virus to work again.

*Clover is a big fan of the Wild West area of the pizzaplex and thinks North Star is super cool. So they ask Martlet to help them get there because in this childs brain of COURSE the Sheriff would know what to do and how to help!

*North Star genuinely does his best to help Clover but eventually gets attacked by another animatronic that messes up his system. He tries to kill Clover but with Martlet's help they both end up resetting his systems back to default.

*Guardner watches over the Pizzaplex's greenhouse area (Its my au and I want the pizzaplex to be as unhinged as the Mall of America so fuck you if you hate it I think its neat). Gaurdner isn't infected with the virus and just wants Clover dead because they accidentally broke a flower stem and she is SO TIRED of kids NOT RESPECTING THE RULES. They are banned from the Greenhouse forever (but not really let her calm down and she'll reverse it).

*The Feisty Four are now the bandits for the wild west area! Moray was originally from one of Foxy's attractions but was repurposed. Ed is the boss bandit with the other three basically acting as background characters for hijinks. The kids who visit the Wild West area of the pizzaplex are considered the Sheriff's deputies.

*Axis is a staff bot and he is very stubborn when it comes to his job. Yes he will still fall in love with a trash heap tho. Let my guy live a little damn.

*Y/n primarily works on the Wild West area bots and is constantly getting on North Star's case about his wires getting messed up. North Star constantly deals with scolding from y/n and barbs from Flowey.

*Y/n takes Flowey with them almost everywhere in the pizzaplex. He tends to swear at others so they decided it was safer if they could just carry him around and take him away from people.

*North Star was ECSTATIC to learn his favorite mechanic adopted his favorite Deputy. He constantly begs to be able to babysit Clover.

*North Star has a prior companionship to Sun and Moon, as they were all formerly theater bots. North Star however got the better end of the deal as he still gets to act in front of others.

*Martlet constantly sneaks food to Chica when nobody is looking. They're besties.

[cxsmicbaby]

something nice - 1

CHAPTER ONE OF A SERIES 

pairing : miguel o’hara x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings : smut at the end! cursing throughout. enjoy :)

you and hobie play a prank. miguel doesn’t like it, but he can never stay mad at you. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“And then... my uncle died.” 

“Mmhm.” The smell of hot coffee grows stronger. It’s mere inches away.. I just have to suffer through this for a moment longer. 

“And I realized. I’m not even real! I’m just a clone of the real Peter. And that totally destroyed me.”

“Oh wow,” I say, nodding. Ben, or Scarlet Spider, continues to go on about his tragic backstory, somehow still managing to flex his biceps as he begins to well up in tears. 

Finally, the spider in front of me finishes filling their mug and it’s my turn. God, if I had to stand in line with this melodramatic asshole for a second longer I think I would’ve tried to cut my own ears off. He’s still talking as I fill my cup with coffee, but this time I’m not listening. It’s probably some variation of the same things I’ve been through, anyhow. I wonder how Miguel is able to sit through thousands and thousands of these things whenever he recruits a new spider. He’s not a very patient guy. 

Miguel. He walks through the lobby at 5:30am, every morning. I woke up early today so that I would run into him. Not like I said anything to him; I walked past him, smiling, and he just grunted. Just about what I expected. But I still woke up early to see him. I feel a little stupid thinking about it. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow. 

“Yeah, Ben, that really sucks. Maybe you should see a therapist.” I turn and give him a pat on the shoulder, smiling as genuinely as I can. He nods, and wipes his teary eyes. This guy cries way too easily. 

I swing off into the main lobby. Thank god, I can be free. I don’t know what the plan is today, but I’m always up for an adventure. 

“Oi!” I hear, and behind me Hobie is swinging forward, his mask already on. That must mean there’s something happening. Regardless, I’m always happy to see him. He’s probably the only person I really talk to here; other than Miguel. 

“Hey! Got anything for me?” I ask, as we land on a free platform. Hobie pauses for a moment before he starts digging around in his pockets, and pulls out a bag of my favorite snack from his universe; unfortunately, it doesn’t exist anywhere else, so I depend on this not-so-dependable guy to bring them for me. 5/10 times he actually remembers it. 

“What’s with the drink? I thought you hated coffee,” he asks, plopping himself down on the edge of the platform. I do the same, and we watch as the spiders swing and climb all over the place, like a jungle gym. Every time I take a step back from this whole thing like this, it always amazes me. Just a few weeks ago, I was stuck in a universe where I was the only one, and now I’m in a place where everyone is just as corny as me. It’s lovely. 

“I do,” I start, taking a sip of it. I fight the way my lips threaten to purse in disgust. “I needed a pick me up.”

“Ah.” Hobie pulls at a loose thread of his shirt and smiles deviously. “Up all night thinking about Miguel, huh?” 

Hobie is far too observant for my liking. There’s nothing that gets past him, which is great for combat, but not great for me. 

I swallow hard, and shake my head. “No. And you should stop saying shit like that! What if someone overhears? They’ll think something weird is going on.”

“Like?” Here we go. 

“Like. They’ll think I’m in love with him or something. We’re just friends. He’s cool. I’m cool. Everything’s cool.” I sound like an idiot, and I know Hobie thinks the same when I hear him laugh. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager again, gossiping about my crush in the locker-room. I hated high school. 

“Cool, cool. Everything’s cool,” he teases, mocking me. 

We’re both quiet, basking for a moment in the odd sort of peace that comes out of this chaotic place. 

Hobie snickers softly, shaking his head at something that he’s thought of. “Heard some of the others talking bout how Miguel’s pickin’ favorites. Guess who’s the favorite?”

I sigh, and down the rest of the disgusting black liquid. “Whatever. I’m not his, uh. His favorite. He talks down to me like all the rest.” 

Hobie is quiet. That’s rare. When I look over at him he’s just staring down, a weird sort of smile still on his face. His fingers are drumming against the platform. 

“Hey, what’re we gonna do today? Please say you’ve got something fun.” 

That seems to get him, because his head perks up and that teasing expression is replaced by one of excitement. Thank god. If I had to talk about Miguel for another second it would not have ended well—I tend to get a little loose with the things I say the longer I’m forced to talk about them. 

“Something fun, eh? I’ve got something fun. But only if you’re up for it.” 

I smile. “You know I am.” 

Compared to a lot of the others, I’ve been here for a very short time. Still, I’ve learned the ins and outs, the dos and the don’ts. Like, do listen to what the higher ups (and Lyla) say. Don’t make fun of Miguel’s tediously slow entrance on that weird platform thing. Do make friends. Don’t be an ass. And for god’s sake, do not pull any pranks. 

The thing about spider people; we tend not to really listen to rules. 

Hobie and I are perched on a bar above the lobby. We’re trying to figure out the best way to go about things. Me, I think he should take charge, but he seems to think nobody really likes him, so they won’t listen. He thinks they’ll all fall in line with my beguiling feminine charms and do whatever I say. I think that sounds like bullshit, but I don’t really wanna do the other thing, so I agree to it. 

I drop down smack in the middle of a group of spider-people in a conversation. Immediately, I put on the most panicked expression I can muster and start running around frantically. 

“Jessica’s gone into labor! I repeat, Jessica is giving birth at this moment! Help her get back home so she can go to a hospital... or something!” I shout, trying to get as much attention as I possibly can. Of course, everyone loves Jessica, so everyone starts rushing to her aid. None of them actually know where she is, but they just launch into help-mode, as Spiderman does. Soon, the lobby is basically empty. Sometimes, I think about how gullible I must be if I’m really just a variation of this same person. 

“Coast’s clear,” Hobie calls, dropping down from above. “We don’t have a lotta time, gotta make this quick.” 

I frown. “We? But you said all I had to do was get them out!” 

“Yeah, that was a lie.” Hobie shrugs and tosses me a spray can. “Now, you gonna help or not?” 

The idea of getting caught spraying painting the building Miguel has built specifically for us makes me queasy. The idea of being caught doing anything that would make him upset makes me queasy. But if I back out now, then I just made a fool of myself for no reason. I don’t mind looking stupid, but it’s gotta be for a reason. 

I sigh, and reach up to tug my mask over my face in case someone realizes that Jessica is not even here right now, and decides to come back. I mean, not like I would really be hiding much, considering everyone knows what my suit looks like, but there’s no harm in it. 

The moment I pull it down, the room is doused in red light and an alarm starts blaring. Fuck. 

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, mate,” Hobie groans, tossing his head back in frustration. “That old man did not just sound the alarm ‘cause we’re pulling a goddamn prank. Might as well do as much as we can before the rest of ‘em come back.” 

That does not sound like a good idea. If Miguel is angry enough to turn on the alarm that signifies intruders, he will definitely not like us continuing in spite of his obvious warning. But Hobie’s already swinging up, spraying bright purple in a strangely elegant ribbon across the walls. I start to hear footsteps, but they’re far enough away that I think I have some time. So, despite my better judgement, I follow Hobie, tagging wherever he’s painted with a green design of my own. Gotta admit, it looks pretty dope. That assuages my fears somewhat and I find myself letting go a little, whooping in excitement as I swing around the lobby. 

Then, I hear it again. Footsteps, but I know these very specific footsteps. Heavy, fast, angry. My stomach drops and I land, turning to Hobie to see he’s still painting away. He probably hears it too, he just doesn’t care. I wish I could be as carefree as him. Especially when it came to this sort of thing. 

But I can’t. In fact, once Miguel actually appears in the room, hair slightly disheveled, face twisted up in an almost scary amount of anger, I freeze in place. God, he’s fucking fuming. His eyes sweep the room like we just painted Miguel Sux! in somebody’s blood. And then his gaze lands on me, and I feel myself shiver; in fear, in anticipation, in... something else. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Miguel bellows, and that catches Hobie’s attention. Before he can say anything else, the flake is gone. Typical Hobie. Saving his own ass. I can’t even really be mad at him, because if it weren’t for the annoying way my feet were sticking to the ground I would’ve done the same. 

The alarm shuts off, and the room goes deadly quiet. I’m still staring at him as he approaches me, his chest heaving as he takes deep breaths, probably trying to calm himself down. He needs to see a therapist, I think, but don’t have time to even smile at my own quip before he’s looming right above me. 

“Do you get joy out of causing this type of shit? Out of wasting everyone’s time?” Miguel spits, and I know I’m supposed to be hurt by what he’s saying, but god if I don’t wanna just pounce at him right here, right now. 

So I keep my mouth shut. He doesn’t seem to like that. His fists are clenched tight at his sides as he studies me. 

“You know, if I knew you were gonna be such a fucking nuisance, I would never have brought you here.”

Ouch. That one sort of hurts, so I take off my mask and I look up at him, trying to keep my composure. I frown. “It was just some harmless fun, Miguel. No need to get so mean about it.” 

That was not the right thing to say, apparently, because his eyebrows furrow even deeper. Before he can open his mouth to say something that will probably make me cry, I force a smile and swing up to the wall. 

“And it looks great! Don’t you think this place is too... I don’t know. Sterile? Everyone’s gonna love it.” I hope he can’t hear the way my voice is trembling. When I hear my words echo back to me, I’m relieved to find that I sound quite confident. I’ve always been good at that, faking like I know what I’m doing. I think that’s a Spider-man thing. 

Miguel doesn’t speak. He crosses his arms over his chest and inhales deeply, hanging his head. 

“You are going to clean this shit up. Understood? And when I find that little shit Hobie, I’m gonna tell him the same thing.” 

I think that’s the closest I’ll get to him saying he isn’t really that mad about it, and that’s good enough for me. I swing back down to stand in front of him, and this time when I smile, it’s real. 

“Are you sure? I’m telling you, it looks super—”

Miguel’s eyes narrow and I feel my stomach twist. “Don’t test me.” 

I straighten up and salute him, fighting the urge to run as Miguel’s eyes burn into mine. “Yes, sir!” 

I swear to god, he almost smiles, before he just shakes his head. 

“Don’t do shit like this again. I won’t go so easy on you next time.” 

                                                       𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

“You don’t let yourself have anything, do you?” 

Miguel pauses. He finds himself looking up at you, despite the desire to remain stoic and focused and uninterested. It’s always hard to do that, with you. 

“What?” he says, his voice slightly biting. He means it to be. He wants to scare you away so you will leave him alone, finally. It’s been mere weeks since you joined them, and in those weeks, you have made it your mission to annoy him more than anyone ever has in his life. It’s like you live to bother him. He should hate it more than he does. 

He should hate your stupid fucking pranks and your dumb, unfunny jokes. But he doesn’t. He knew it was you today, even before he got to the lobby, but for some reason he wasn’t that mad. And then the fact that he wasn’t mad about it made him mad about it, and he was mean to you. He wants to apologize, but that’s not like him. Everything he does or feels when it comes to you is a contradiction to the person he has built himself up as. The whole thing is just so muddled up he’d rather ignore it. 

You sit on a metal box to his left, swinging your legs back and forth as you scrutinize him. Miguel doesn’t like how you always have this knowing look on your face, like you’re waiting for him to discover something you’ve already found out. Frankly, all the Spider-people have that sort of glint in their eyes, but with you it’s different. He bites the inside of his cheek and forces himself not to look away. 

“I mean, you don’t let yourself have anything nice, or fun. The closest you get to letting yourself feel happiness is those empanadas you make me bring you.” 

You smile at him, and he thinks to himself that he wishes you would do it more, but the moment the thought passes he stamps it out with a frown. 

“And even then, you always scowl when you eat them.” You cancel out his grimace with a little laugh that makes Miguel fucking furious.

“You know, it’s not in your best interest to keep talking about this. If causing a useless ruckus is fun to you, then yeah, I don’t fucking do that.” He practically spits it, and swivels his head to focus again on his work. He doesn’t know if he wants you to apologize or if he wants you to just go. Apologize? He’s kidding himself. You would never. 

He can’t help but listen carefully for your movements, wanting to hear if you’ll leave or not. But he hears nothing, and he turns again to see you just sitting there, swinging your feet. Still smiling. 

“What are you still doing here? Don’t you have shit to do?” Miguel asks, narrowing his eyes at you. He notices that his tone lacks the sting he meant it to deliver and chooses to ignore it. 

You boost yourself up from the box and stand. “Not really. Can’t I just stay? I won’t make any noise, promise.” 

Miguel frowns deeply. “That’s impossible.” But he doesn’t tell you to leave. 

You sigh, your body swaying side to side. Miguel thinks its a subconscious thing you do when you’re standing; most people would just be still, but he’s noticed that you cannot possibly remain perfectly in place for more than a few seconds. 

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna get some sleep. You should too.” You send him a small wink and turn, walking off toward the exit. You stop briefly, turning to face him with an expression he can’t quite read.

“And, uh. Sorry about today,” you call, and he says nothing. You turn again and he watches you leave. 

Everything has changed since you showed up, and if anything can be taken from his obsession with anomalies, it’s that Miguel hates change. Especially when it seems like there isn’t much changing for anyone but himself. 

It was him that found you. He went on a mission to a universe he had not yet traveled; a rare occasion, because it wasn’t to destroy an anomaly, but because something was telling him to go. It wasn’t like a voice, or even a sense. More like a feeling. There was something there for him to discover and so he went without saying anything, hoping he’d be back before anyone noticed. 

Miguel found you on the roof of a museum. You were sitting on the edge, swinging your feet back and forth, just staring into the streets. You had your mask off, which he remembered thinking was incredibly stupid, seeing as it was still light out. Your suit was nothing to gawk at, nothing too different than the hundreds of others he had seen, but for some reason he knew it was you he was supposed to find. You, he had been called to. For what, he didn’t know.  

You noticed him before he intended you to. When you saw him, you didn’t look shocked, or scared; you looked happy. No one had been happy to see him in a long time. 

“How long you been standing there?” you asked, turning your body to face him. You crossed your legs and watched him approach, staring up at him like he was someone you knew, someone you had been waiting for. 

Miguel was quiet. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 

“You know, one of us is gonna have to change.” And you laughed hard at your own dumb joke. Your laugh made him uncomfortable, how truly happy it sounded, how real it felt. You seemed like you hadn’t yet experienced the tragic things that came with being a Spiderman. You seemed innocent. Like you needed to be protected. 

And by god, you were beautiful. The suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. 

The thought startled him and he stayed quiet.  

“Your suit is super cool. Kinda cyberpunk.” You stood and you watched him carefully, walking slowly around him in a circle. Miguel’s eyes followed you, his body on guard as if you were going to suddenly lunge at him. 

“Why aren’t you... surprised?” Miguel finally said, his tone accusatory. But you didn’t seem to notice, and if you did you didn’t mind. You stopped in front of him and stuck your hand out, inviting him to shake it. 

“Welcome to Earth-72, Miguel. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

And that’s how he found out about a Dr. Strange, and how you knew about Miguel already; in fact, you were expecting him. The idea made him irrationally angry. Someone like you, obviously flippant and probably reckless, with knowledge about something as dangerous as the multiverse? You were most likely new to your abilities, to the mask. You were too naive and carefree not to be. 

But Miguel was wrong. You had long been bitten, lost your uncle, your sister, your best friend. You just seemed to lack that bitterness that he saw in the others, in himself. You were happy. 

Like most things, that also made Miguel angry. 

You begged him to let you join the Spider Society. You said you had known about it for a while, and you dreamed of being apart of it, of something bigger than yourself. Your words exactly. He was slightly impressed by that, but didn’t show it. In fact, Miguel wanted deeply to say no. But he didn’t, for reasons he’s not quite sure of himself, and that’s how he ended up with a permanent, relentless distraction. He was starting to wish he never brought you back in the first place. 

If you were more like him, he thinks, he probably wouldn’t have this problem. But you’re not. You’re almost the exact opposite. It drives him fucking crazy.

Miguel shook his head, grunting in frustration at his own inability to focus. It seemed even when you weren’t there, he was plagued by the thought of you. 

And think about you he did, for hours on end, sometimes. When he would lie awake in bed, his body aching from the strains of the day. He wouldn’t be able to close his eyes, because the image of you was always waiting for him. Smiling, laughing. Looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He would find himself imagining what it felt like to be close to you. Your skin would be soft, he knew. Your lips would be softer. Your hands, calloused by years of fighting, swinging, winning, losing. How they’d touch him. How they’d hold him. 

How he would touch you. Make you feel good. Make you think about him, just like he thought about you. Make you want him. 

Miguel always lost himself in thoughts like that, and he was usually able to bring himself back to reality. When he got back to his room that night, though, he felt as though he couldn’t push it down. He didn’t let himself have anything nice. And god, did he want something nice. 

The water ran over his taut back, soaking his hair and running down his cheekbones. One hand, splayed against the tile wall, and the other by his side, just inches away from an itch he is fighting not to scratch. His cock is aching. He swears he can see it pulse with every second that passes, every drop of water that lands on his shaft, veins prominent and throbbing. 

Miguel imagines that you’re there with him. That you stand in front of him, and that instead of the wall it’s you he’s touching, your skin slick with water and sweat. That your hands are on his chest, your nails scratching him just the slightest bit, and god, those eyes, staring into his like he’s the only thing that has or ever will matter to you. 

When he finally wraps his hand around his cock, it takes his breath away. 

“Jesus,” he whispers, slowly stroking himself, gripping so tight he’s sure his fingertips are white. It’s not enough. 

Miguel closes his eyes, and immediately he pictures you. He feels almost guilty to think of you this way, on your knees, with your lips wrapped around his dick. But he can’t stop. His breathing grows heavier as he imagines you taking him deep into your throat, gagging on him, your nose brushing against his pelvis. He thinks about what he’d say to you. How he’d tell you how good you were doing, how perfect you were. He grips himself impossibly harder and is unable to stop himself from relentlessly jerking his cock, his hand pushing so hard against the wall he’s afraid it’ll crack. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice breathy and deep. More water drips onto his shaft and immediately he thrusts desperately into his own grip, envisioning that it’s you, spitting on him before you take him in your hand, running your tongue over his tip, looking up at him. 

He thinks about what you’d say to him. He knows he would be too big for you. But you’d try to take him all, because that’s what you do. He’s sure your hand wouldn’t even wrap around his entire length. And you would tell him how big he was, how beautiful you thought he was. You’d probably tease him too, about how quickly he’d been reduced to a mess, how eager he was. He’s surprised at how close that thought brings him, and he has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a shameful moan. 

When Miguel comes, he says your name. It’s not loud; it’s more like a plea, a prayer. His body caves in on itself and he shudders with the force of it, his legs trembling ever so slightly as he tries to bring himself back to reality. He stands there for a moment, trying to catch his breath, feeling a little ashamed at how quickly he finished. He hasn’t had the time to do anything like that in so, so long. He hasn’t let himself. 

He washes himself off and gets out of the shower. 

When Miguel lies in bed, he’s haunted by the thought of having to see you tomorrow, knowing what he’s done. And then he grows angry. You did this to him. And you’re not even trying; you’re just there. What a nuisance you are. 

He tries to close his eyes, but he finds himself plagued by you still. 

                                                      𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪

CHAPTER TWO