#keeps me from having to wonder whether the person who puts that shit on my dash really believes it before i get to the rebuttal

[senalishia]

this is bullshit??? from beginning to end???

"second passport" is THE MOST thinly veiled antisemitic dogwhistle

it is, as others have noted, currently a holiday during which many people travel

the idea that "real natives" stand their ground no matter what is just ludicrous nonsense. many people in palestine are not CAPABLE of fleeing but would if they could. i have SEEN y'all spreading around palestinian fundraisers to help people get out AS YOU SHOULD

smh

[motherlvr]

Your Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman

SPOILERS FOR ATSV, this includes the plot of ATSV

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! Reader, Earth 1610! Miles Morales & reader

This is a continuation of Part 1 but may be read as a stand-alone. this will probably be the last part of this for now, thank you for reading!

Summary: During a minor identity crisis, you question your morals. Further adding to your list of problems, it seems like Miles has a twin brother he failed to mention to you.

Warnings: nothing too serious, established relationship with Prowler! Miles, possessive miles, Major spoilers for ATSV, not canon, minimal cursing, jealousy, reader is so silly sometimes, i got sappy at the end sorry, fluffy ending

A/N: just know that if u interact with any of my works then i literally love u with all my heart

You weren't sure where your morals lie, but you assumed they were in the gray area. Matter of fact, you must be colorblind.

Could you even be considered a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman anymore? You were sure it was against your moral code to be dating a guy that you had previously described as a "cold-blooded killer." Who were you now? The Morally Gray Neighborhood Spider-woman? It wasn't nearly as catchy. Maybe you were an anti-hero now. Is it possible for a Spider-person to be an anti-hero? Surely not, you thought.

Interrupting your thoughts was the buzz of a phone. Miles' phone. You soon realized your present state, burrowed against your boyfriend on his bed. He had a suffocating grip on you, like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go. Letting you get a breath of air, he loosened his grip on you to check his notification.

He slowly unwrapped his arms from around you and started to rise from the bed. He pressed his lips to yours before saying, "Lo siento, mami. Uncle Aaron needs me." He started putting on his Prowler gear.

To be frank, you were sick and tired. You've heard the same excuse over and over from Miles. At this point, you didn't understand why he was being so cryptic. What secret is there to hide if you already know he's the Prowler?

"Miles, enough with that vague shit. You keep acting like you're Batman or something." You sass, rolling your eyes at him and laying up in his bed. It was surprising how much he let you get away with. If anyone else had said that to him, he'd claw their throats out, surely.

"Let me come with you, Miles." You suggested, immediately jumping off his bed to follow him. He didn't like that idea. Not one bit, and it was clear on his face. "Hermosa," Miles started, but you interrupted him, pointing a finger at his face. "You know damn well I am fully capable of protecting myself. Just let me into your life, Miles. I want to see what's so important that you have to go and ditch your girlfriend yet again." You dramatically sigh, hoping he'll cave. After a few moments, Miles eventually gave in. "Fine. C'mon, princesa." He sighed and gestured for you to follow him.

He led you to what seemed to be a sketchy, dull, and grimy basement. If he wasn't infatuated with you, you'd wonder whether he was plotting to murder you down here. Upon further inspection, it was actually an apartment. As your eyes scanned the eerie room, you noticed chains hanging on the walls and an abnormal amount of weapons. However, there was also a large flatscreen and a kitchen. You could only assume that this was their Prowler Cave.

Other than the random civilian tied up on a punching bag, it looked like a fairly normal room. Almost cozy, if you were being generous.

Speaking of, why was there some poor boy restrained on a punching bag? You could barely see him due to the punching bag being larger than him, but from your current standpoint, you could only assume he was around your age or younger.

Miles stepped in front of you, holding a hand out to prevent you from taking a step further. Curling your lip in a frown, you shooed his hand away and continued walking, but stopped before the hostage could spot you. He stayed behind, lurking in the corner.

Miles' uncle greeted you both, "I've got a surprise for y'all." Apparently, Miles had let his uncle know in advance that you were welcome into his Prowler cave.

Miles, ever loving his dramatic entrances, jumped down from the corner he was lurking in. You had to stifle your laugh.

Uncle Aaron rotated the punching bag, revealing the unfortunate boy that got restrained upon it. Your jaw fell to the ground. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How was this possible? You started to wish you had paid attention during Physics.

Attached to the punching bag was a near-identical copy of your beloved boyfriend. His eyes were wide full of fear, and for a second, you felt pity for him. Uncle Aaron left the room, leaving only you and the two Miles.

"Your dad is still alive?" Miles asked his impersonator, astonishingly unfazed by the fact that there was a copy of him staring him directly in his eyes. "What?" The impersonator questioned. "Your father, you said he's still alive." Miles repeated, his voice piquing with interest. "Yeah." The copy replied in a low voice. His face had no remnants of fear, it morphed into confusion instead. "Who are you?" The fake Miles asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He reminded you of your boyfriend in that way.

Your dearly beloved Prowler opened his mask, "I'm Miles Morales. But you, you can call me the Prowler." He said, his accent exposing. Those simple two sentences had more of an effect on you than they should have.

"If I don't go home, our dad is going to die." The fake Miles says with fear in his voice. "Your dad." Miles interjects coldly, lacking sympathy. The hope was slowly fading from the other Miles' face. He shook his head and said, "Please, you have to let me go." with more assertiveness than before. Your boyfriend leaned closer to the fake, "Why would I do that?" he inquired.

Deciding to interrupt their stare-down, you stepped out of the darkness and made yourself known to the fake Miles.

His face lit up with recognition. He whispered your name, "Is that you?"

"First off, how do you know my name?" You questioned, raising a confused brow. This whole situation was starting to creep you out. As you stepped closer to him, both of your spider-senses went off.

"You're like me." You both said in unison.

Your boyfriend was watching this interaction, narrowing his eyes. The fake Miles was only giving your boyfriend more reasons to keep him confined here.

"Look, you've got to help me. In my universe, you were my girlfriend too. Except you weren't Spider-woman. Don't you have a sense of morality? Hasn't anyone told you that with great power comes great responsibility?" The poor guy was practically begging you. You were sure that if he wasn't tied up on a punching bag, he'd be on his knees pleading with you. Which would be a fun sight to watch, you think.

You scoffed at the fake Miles Morales and replied, "You said it wrong. It's, with great ability comes great accountability." Rolling your eyes. This impersonator couldn't even get the quote right.

"That's not-" He cut himself off. "Whatever. You've got to help me, please." The fake Miles pleaded with you. He started to glitch, this universe was taking a toll on him already. As you stared into his eyes, he reminded you of a miserable, dejected puppy. Unbeknownst to you, the less-menacing Miles Morales was only stalling to charge up his venom strike.

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to resort to his venom strike just yet. That would only make this situation harder for him to get out of. He wasn't planning on getting on the bad side of another Spider-person.

"I think we should help him." You broke the silence, turning to your Miles. He was about to argue with you when you continued, "Not only because he's a fellow spider-person, but also because it's harder to resist someone when they look exactly like you, Miles." You grinned, teasing him.

As always, Miles couldn't deny you. He growled to his other self, directing the clone's attention away from you. "You're lucky my girl was here to save you this time, spider. I would've had no issue leaving you here to watch you rot."

As you untied Miles from the punching bag, he mouthed a "Thank you" to you and said,

"Do you guys happen to have a watch that can teleport me back home?" in all seriousness. It was almost comical. "No, but maybe I could help you out." You responded. "I have a good friend, Peter Parker. He's a scientist that specializes in quantum physics, I bet he could help. He works at Alchemax." His eyes seemed to lighten, "You know a Peter Parker?"

On the way to Alchemax, your boyfriend decided the phony version of himself was getting too comfortable with you. He was asking you way too many questions such as,

"How did you become Spider-woman?" The same way you did, Miles.

"How long have you been Spider-woman?" Ever since I got bit by a spider.

"Why are you with the Prowler?" He's not such a bad guy. A few seconds passed and you said, Nevermind. But that's what makes it exciting. You wink at him.

And that's when your lover decided to step in. He interrupted whatever Miles #2 was going on about. "Shut up for once." He snarled at him, towering over his clone. Within a second, your boyfriend had his copy in his grip with his razor-sharp claws in his face, a warning. You noticed sparks flying from the other Miles' fingertips. Why don't I have electric powers? You pondered. Not wanting to witness a homicide today, you pulled your boyfriend away before he could get the chance to slaughter himself. Or at least the morally good version of himself.

Your Miles snaked his arm around your waist possessively. He glared at the other Miles through his screen mask, but you were sure Miles #2 felt his sinister stare. He and you were walking a few paces ahead of his duplicate.

Some days, you weren't sure whether you wanted to kiss him or throttle him during his sleep. Although you couldn't deny that a part of you liked seeing him like this.

“Settle down, babe. He’s not my type.” You reassured him. He almost felt appeased, until he rethought your words. “Not your type? Mami, we look almost identical.” Your Miles said with irritation in his tone. You laughed at his confusion as you shook your head.

Although they were nearly identical in appearance, you noticed clear differences. For instance, your Miles had an intimidating and menacing presence. While the other Miles had more of a "Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man" energy to him.

"No, I mean, he's a little too dorky for me." Your boyfriend seemed to approve of your response, gazing at you. You shivered under his watch.

“I heard that." Miles #2 muttered, following behind you two.

Miles’ gaze was still set on you. He didn’t intend on breaking it any time soon. Although you couldn't exactly see his eyes, you could feel his stare. Nervously glancing the other way, you avoided eye contact. Because you knew that if you looked at him again, you'd pull him in and wouldn't be able to pull away. You felt like you were pinning for him all over again.

You glanced back at him, "Miles, stop staring at me. I might kiss you.” In an instant, his mask was off. He pulled you into a searing kiss, cupping your head with his hands. You reciprocated immediately.

His kiss was demanding and forceful. You could hear the thump of your heart, increasingly becoming louder. It was only a few moments long but felt like forever. He pulled away sooner than you'd liked, leaving you desiring more. “Had to show him that you’re my girl. Sólo mía. Right, princesa?” He stared into your eyes, making your heart pound impossibly faster. You cheekily nodded, the words being lost on your tongue. Miles smirked in satisfaction and closed his mask as you all approached Alchemax.

You strode into Alchemax like it was your second home and looked for Peter's office. Your boyfriend treaded right by your side, while the other Miles strayed behind you like a lost puppy. Which essentially, he was.

Successfully finding Peter's door wide open, you knocked. He looked up from his pile of work. Peter greeted you with a smile, "Come on in. It's great to see you, kid. But, uh, why is the Prowler in my office?" He said to you, his voice barely above a whisper. The Prowler in question was menacingly yet quietly standing in the corner of Peter's office.

Peter looked slightly green, but you consoled him. "Oh, don't mind him. He's my boyfriend." You shrugged. Peter shot you an extremely concerned look, judging your taste in guys, no doubt.

You simply smiled and patted him on the shoulder, "But anyway, Peter. This is Miles, he’s from a different dimension." You pointed at Miles, who stood stiffly next to you.

"We were hoping you could help us create an inter-dimensional teleporter. Or rather, a watch that can jump universes?" You told Peter.

The scientist seemed fascinated by this information about the multiverse. “That's a specific request. Lucky for you guys, I've been working on a prototype. Be wary that it is just a prototype, so there's no guarantee it'll work." Peter said.

"Great! I just have to make sure I get out of here before I either glitch to death or Miguel and his spider-team show up to beat me to death." Miles awkwardly said, scratching the back of his head. His glitching issue was getting worse the more time he spent in your universe.

Spider-team? No one's ever told you about this. If this "Spider-team" really did exist, why weren't you invited? No, you take that back. You could name a couple of reasons why you weren't invited, starting with your boyfriend who was standing next to you in his full Prowler suit. This is what you deserve for not being a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-woman, you sigh.

"Let's hope this works then." Peter says with an unsure tone. He cuffs the watch around Miles' wrist and changes the settings.

Silence falls upon the room as you all observe the watch flash for a moment, and then go dim again. How anti-climactic.

"Oops, sorry guys. Wrong settings." Peter Parker awkwardly laughed and fumbled with the watch again, and then said "Alright, this one should work."

Suddenly appearing to your right is a captivating portal of sorts. It was in the shape of multiple hexagons and had an orange hue. You couldn't take your eyes off of it, you'd never seen something so alluring. Other than your boyfriend, that is. You chuckled at your inner monologue.

Peter was ecstatic, “The other scientists doubted multiversal travel existed, but this is a critical discovery in the history of science!”

Miles, the Spider-Man one, was bewildered. He could finally go home and save his father. “Dude, this is awesome! I can't thank you guys enough. Maybe I'll see you guys again sometime." He smiled, referring to Peter and you.

Miles #2 seemed to be leaning in for a hug when your boyfriend interjected. He stood in front of you and glared at the phony version of himself, "Not too friendly now." he scowled.

“Chill, man! I didn’t mean it like that!" Instead, Miles gives you a two-fingered salute and fist-bumps Peter. "See you around." He finally says, jumping into the portal and wasting no additional time.

The portal closed behind him and you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Maybe you weren't a morally gray neighborhood spider-woman after all.

Who were you kidding? You're dating a murderous asshole. You must've been guilty by association.

You just hoped that the dorkier version of your boyfriend made it to his universe, and wasn’t sent to a completely different one yet again.

Shaking off the thoughts, you told the scientist, "Thank you, Peter! You were a big help." You hugged Peter and waved him goodbye. "Anytime, kid." He replied. Your prowler followed you out, his hand settling on your waist.

As you returned to Miles' house, you sat on his bed with him and said, "You know, your cooperation has to count for something. Even if you were just brooding the whole time."

"I'm the Prowler. I wasn’t brooding, ma.”

"Whatever you say." You rolled your eyes at him. "Anyway, you didn't kill him, so that's a start. I'm proud of us!" You gleamed at him as you mentally patted yourself on the back.

"You know I love you, ma. But you talk too much." Miles said, pulling you by the waist into his embrace.

You knitted your eyebrows as you replied, "Babe. It runs in every Spider-person. Didn't you hear how-" This time, Miles was the one shutting you up by pressing his lips to yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. His gentle lips moved against yours, and you couldn't help but melt into his touch.

You smiled into the kiss, deepening it. You didn't need words to show him how deep your affection for him lies. If you could, you'd freeze time to forever stay in his hold.

-----------

Dating the public’s enemy number one had to be diminishing your PR. Not that you had one, anyway.

Initially, you worried that your terribly different lifestyles would inevitably lead to the end of your relationship. The Prowler and Spider-woman was an unlikely combination, after all. You snuck out at night to fight crime and restore justice, while he snuck around with his uncle to be a hitman of Kingpin. But you loved him like no one else could.

He invoked emotions in you that you weren't completely familiar with. Your mind was consumed by thoughts of him. You couldn't breathe with him around, nor could you control how fast your heart throbbed. But you would gladly suffocate if he was the one taking your breath away.

And you had a feeling that your sentiment wasn't unrequited.

-----------

hermosa - beautiful

lo siento - i'm sorry

sólo mío - only mine

princesa - princess

[navybrat817]

How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺

I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂

Sick Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.

You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.

Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.

“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”

You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.

He had nothing to worry about though.

“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.

A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.

“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”

You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”

“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.

“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”

Why is he getting himself worked up?

“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”

It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.

“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”

“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.

He didn’t need your tears on top of that.

But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”

God, I love this man.

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.

Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.

“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”

Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.

“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”

“We'll watch whatever you want.”

You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”

You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”

With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”

You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.

Which was exactly why he called you down there.

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”

“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.

You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.

“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”

You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”

He also had a cold.

Oh, no.

“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.

“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”

Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.

“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”

Oh, Bucky.

You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.

“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”

Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.

Maybe both.

But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.

When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.

“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”

You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.

And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.

“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”

“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.

Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Oops.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”

“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.

Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.

You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”

He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.

“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”

Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”

True.

“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”

Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.

And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.

Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 13

prev next || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: Who left you that note on the counter? (It was Marc)

Pairings: Marc Spector x gn!reader, (Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader) No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: angst, sprinkle of fluff (more under the cut)

Warnings: like a lot of cursing, spiciest chapter to date, nsfw tho the language is still gn and not overly explicit but you have been warned. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

PREVIOUSLY, on "With You"...

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

'On the roof -M'

Just that little scribble - Marc's handwriting, that he'd taken the time to put into an envelope for you - had you gasping for air.

You bolted for the stairwell, clad in your scrubs and in no mood to wait the brief eternity for the lift. Taking the stairs two at a time, you heaved yourself breathlessly through the rooftop door, gasping out his name.

"Marc!?"

Your husband wasn't exactly the film-style, run-and-jump-hug kind of man, so you were going to have to work very hard not to tackle him.

"Marc? It's me!" you panted, more from the anticipation than from exertion.

Unable to locate him in his usual spot, you peered over the building's edge, down to the city below - in case he was hanging there like Spider-Man?

Dumb.

Scurrying around the rooftop, you checked behind cooling towers and anything else obstructing your view.

No Marc.

Cursing under your breath, you dialed his phone, hoping maybe you missed him somehow, but knowing full well that the roof of your building wasn't that big.

No answer.

So back down you went. Maybe he wasn't fronting anymore. Sometimes it happened, whether one of them wanted it to or not. Couldn't really blame him if that were the case.

That didn't stop you from ringing his mobile again as you raced back down the stairs, narrowly missing a dangerously close face-plant situation once arriving at your floor.

"Marc!" You cried, bursting back into your flat. Releasing a shuddering sigh, your eyes burned with the beginnings of frustrated tears.

Right then, he emerged from the bathroom, soaking wet, dark ringlets dripping down his cheeks, with a white towel tucked snugly around his hips.

"I'm here," he softly responded, approaching you slowly, stopping before even reaching arm's length. Realizing you were in some sort of distress, he withdrew, almost imperceptibly.

"M-Marc," you stuttered out, unable to believe it as actually him. And not just him - who you had missed terribly for two weeks - he was soaking wet and half naked.

Swallowing hard, he pushed his fingers through his drenched curls, sprinkling the floor with water droplets and creating one hell of a sexy mess.

He figured you must be really upset with him for being gone so long.

Neither of you moved. You just stood, staring, your chest heaving with emotion as Marc wilted, drawing in on himself.

Steven would probably be here soon. You had to do something. Anything!

"I-I saw your note," you blurted. "I ran upstairs to look for you. I- "

"Shit. I left the note earlier, in case..." Figures he would have sent you up to the roof on a wild goose chase. No wonder you were keeping your distance. The quick note had replaced a long letter he had composed for you. Something to try to explain. But he tore the letter up and replaced it with the rooftop note, because the letter was utterly inadequate.

Head dropping in shame, Marc's fists clenched by his sides. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

You had to try anything. Inching forward, you moved carefully, afraid of scaring off the elusive creature he'd become these past weeks.

Stretching your fingers out slowly, you made sure he could see your incoming touch with his eyes - then asked for verbal permission before you made contact.

"Baby...is this okay?" One fingertip grazed his knuckle like a whisper.

Realizing you were here, right in front of him - touching him - soothed his fears almost instantly.

Exhaling shakily, he stared at the floor, even as he pushed his fingers up to meet your palm. With the faintest caress, you traced the length of his fingers, slowly pushing your own in between each one until your hands intertwined.

"Marc...please - I need..." Chomping down on your tongue, you called upon every restraining force in your body to keep from pushing him away.

"What?" He whispered - wide, brown eyes flickering briefly up to yours. Water droplets made his impossibly long lashes glisten. He must have quite literally run from the shower. "What do you need?"

Tugging on your intertwined fingers, he pulled you close enough to feel the steamy humidity of his solid chest.

Feeling your shaking puffs of breath cool his heated skin, he wilted inside as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I...is it okay if I hug you?" Your body twitched with nervous energy, your glassy eyes finally locking with his.

In them, he saw raw truth. He saw you. You weren't angry with him - you were something else. Maybe you needed him to touch you, but you wouldn't violate his safety to get what you wanted. Never. The restraint you were showing him was burning you alive.

'I'll burn down the whole world first.'

Your promise to never leave him flooded back to his memory, propelling him to dip his knees and scoop you up into his arms.

"I'll get you all wet," he murmured, even while nuzzling his sopping curls against your cheek.

"Then get me wet," you groaned, fingers clawing at his shoulders, hauling him into your embrace. "Please just...stay. Just a little longer, Marc, please."

Lips parted, you mouthed the damp skin of his cheek before pressing a kiss there.

Relief surged through him, simultaneously weakening his grip on you while fortifying his desire to stay here with you.

Feeling his hold on you loosen, you cursed yourself internally, face flaming as tears burned your eyes. It must be too much for him - the frantic searching, calling out for him - the pleas to stay and now, a soft kiss to his warm skin.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, releasing him. It hurt so badly, you could barely stand.

Playing the last 30 seconds over in his mind, Marc frantically attempted to figure out what he did wrong. What else he did wrong... You let go of him...although you apologized. For what?

"For what?" He uttered, reaching out for your arms, his fingertips electrifying your skin.

Ducking down again, his heart shattered at the sight of your tears. When would he ever stop fucking up your life?

As your gazes locked, he brushed his knuckles tenderly across your cheek. "I'm the one who's sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I missed you," you whispered, nuzzling into his touch. "Did you get my letter?"

Nodding, he dragged his fingers down the side of your neck to grasp your shoulder. "I'm sorry I did that to you, honey. I didn't mean to be gone so long. I was so tired..."

"It's okay, baby, that's why you have Steven and Jake," you attempted, your hands twitching with the pulsing need to touch him again. Touch him more.

Right. Jake.

The one Khonshu wanted. The one you wanted. The one who was now here with you, living life with you, moving his clothes into the closet, showing you who he was.

The preferred one. Giving you the love you deserved, along with Steven - so alive, full of hope. Steven was the glue in this whole thing, as much as you were. Without Steven, Marc wondered if he might somehow slip away into the recesses of his own mind, leaving your heart in more capable hands.

Moon Knight was certainly in far more capable hands.

"It shouldn't be okay," he sighed, his skin crawling uncomfortably. "It's not okay for your husband to leave you without telling you." Shaking his head, his arms dropped heavily down to his sides. "But I guess it was okay to you because you have Jake now."

Ouch.

Your lip trembled - he'd pulled away from you again. "I...I haven't had chance to talk to you, like I promised I would - about Jake." What the hell? You didn't want to talk about Jake right now, you wanted to see and feel and love Marc!

"A-are you mad at me?" You whimpered, trying to find your footing in this conversation.

"Mad at you?" He gasped in disbelief as his hands found his hips. "You're the one who should be mad. You shouldn't have to fucking live like this." Shifting from foot to foot, he grew restless, like he wanted to claw his way out of his own skin. Or have a drink. Fuck.

Blowing out a long breath, you tried to steady yourself. If you hurt his feelings, oh well. If he withdrew into his mind and you didn't see him for another couple weeks, so be it. You thrived on honesty and communication. The real. No more tiptoeing.

"Marc, I don't need for you to tell me how I should have to live. I can decide the life I want to have," you calmly explained, relaxing your body and boldly holding his gaze. "I'm not mad that you're a system or that you're going through something new or hard for you."

"I know you're not mad," he muttered. "You never are. Because I can't disappoint you or hurt you if you expect nothing from me."

He may as well have thrown ice cold water in your face and then slapped you.

But he wasn't done.

"Why do you want to be on this merry-go-round...roundabout?" He added the less American term. "My drinking, my fucking panic attacks, nightmares - all my shit," he spat, his chest heaving. "I asked myself how anyone could put up with this, or would even want to, and the answer is...obvious."

Pushing a hand back through his damp waves, he re-stated his worst fear. Something he found himself finally able to voice out loud, after two weeks in the headspace.

His dramatic pause was long enough that you cleared your throat and prompted him to go on. He may as well get all this off his chest, even if it destroyed you. "What answer is obvious?"

Daring to meet your eyes, he could see, in real time, how much he was fucking up. But it was like a plane crashing - he couldn't stop the descent.

"The answer is Steven," he rasped, his voice hoarse - thick with emotion. "You don't expect anything from me because Steven is so good to you. He's so good at everything. And now Jake..." his voice trailed off as his dark eyes clouded with moisture. "Jake stepped right into my shoes - with you, with Khonshu. I don't do anything. I don't give you anything. But you're a good person and you love me anyway. Believe, me, I could not be more grateful for that. Or any less deserving."

You were crying now - heavy, wet tears streaking your beautiful cheeks as you sank to the floor. He had actually done it. He had rendered even you speechless.

Without another word, he walked back into the bathroom and shut the door.

God, how every word out of his mouth cut you so deep. You could cry for a week, but where would that get you? He thought Jake had taken his place? If he wanted a taste of the shit you and Jake gave each other, he could have it. But no way would you spend another instant on this floor, no matter how your gut twisted with pain.

Racing over to the bathroom door, you pounded. "Marc, open the door!" You shouted, wincing as you realized this was probably the opposite of what he needed. Lowering your voice, you announced that you were coming in.

Marc was naked.

His towel was hanging up in its usual place and he was reaching for the underwear lying on the countertop.

Why was he getting dressed in the bathroom if you were married?

Whatever. Didn't matter. Fuck him.

"You don't need those," you said sharply, yanking the boxer briefs out of his grasp and tossing them aside. Pushing your fingers over the soft flesh of his abdomen, up onto his chest, your nails scraped his damp skin. "You think I don't need you, Marc?"

Gripping his face in your hands, you lifted up on your toes, crushing your mouth against his.

He was stunned for a moment, but slowly melted into your kiss as you slid your tongue over his demandingly.

His hands found your hips, gripping them tightly before yanking you hard against his chest. The two of you stumbled backwards, breaking your kiss and sending you crashing into him.

Reaching for his muscular arms to steady yourself, you panted, desperate for him in every possible way. That's when your eyes traveled down to plainly see that he wanted you too.

Jerking your scrubs off your body, Marc quickly joined you in yanking and pulling until you were as bare as he was. Between every movement, your lips chased one another's, licking and tasting - connecting at every possible point, until he pushed you up against the door.

The fire in your eyes had him weak for you.

You surprised him by returning to a deeper topic even as your bare bodies pushed and pulled against the other. "You treat my love and compassion as indifference? Fuck you."

He stilled for a moment, but you gripped his length firmly in your palm, tugging and making him groan.

"You think I should be mad?" You spat, working him roughly. "Congratulations. I am."

"Baby," he panted, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as his body submitted to your demanding touch.

"You think Jake took your place, here, with me?" You growled on his ear, biting his earlobe and tugging it between your lips. "Fuck you both. Nothing is taking you away from me."

Groaning your name, Marc's hips stuttered against your hand as his forehead dropped to your shoulder.

"You think I don't expect anything from you?" Yanking on his wet curls, you jerked his head back so you could see his face. "I really fucking do." Using your grip on his length, you guided him to where you really wanted to feel him.

"You think you don't give me anything?" You whined, as he entered you, your body shuddering with pleasure as he groaned on your ear. "You've given me everything." Moving on him slowly, you moaned as he pinned you against the bathroom door. "Give it to me, Marc."

"Fuck...baby..." he gasped, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

He couldn't help himself - after deep, frantic thrusts over and over - he finished before you, whimpering and desperate.

Good. You had him right where you wanted him. Vulnerable and sated. Or at least slightly relieved, maybe.

Yanking the towel off the rack, you handed it to him so he could clean up a little bit. "Go lie down on the bed," you ordered, your eyes dark and unreadable.

Swallowing, Marc nodded once and complied. As soon as he left the bathroom, you stared at yourself in the mirror, exhaling shakily. What just transpired between the two of you felt really fucking good, but it was more than sex. You were doing battle. And Marc wasn't getting out of your bed until he understood a few things.

Moments later, you climbed on top of your husband in bed, salaciously kissing him, draping your body over his.

"I want you to do something for me," you murmured after a long while, as both of your bodies stirred with new desire.

"Anything," he whispered, his hands finding their way between your legs.

Gasping as he teased you, you reveled in his touch, forgetting to finish your thought.

"What can I do, baby?" Marc hummed against your skin. Being needed by you? He lived for it.

You kissed him again, your body writhing under his caress. "I want you to stop deciding how I feel."

"O-okay," he groaned as your breath tickled his lips.

"I'm serious," you went on, forcing him still - waiting for him to look at you. "If I'm mad, I'll be mad. If I'm patient and understanding, you can't tell me to be angry."

He was trying to listen, but he really wanted you again. "Uh-huh," he ground out, thrusting upward, hoping...

"You see this?" Showing him your wedding band, you pushed your fingers through his. "You remember the vows I made?"

"Yes," he panted, desperate for you, wishing you would touch him back. "Please, honey..."

"I know," you cooed, kissing him again. His mouth, his cheek, his eyebrow. "Who did I make vows to?"

His eyes locked onto you and he melted. "Me."

"That's right," you smiled gently down at him. "So stop with all the bullshit you keep telling yourself. And stop telling me how I feel."

Feeling a little relief in the air, Marc sat up and kissed you urgently. "So damn bossy." He said this while continuing to stroke and caress you.

"You were being an asshole," you half teased, shivering as he grazed a particularly sensitive spot. "I definitely prefer your usual method of stress relief."

His eyebrows shot up playfully as he slowly removed his hand, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. "Is that right?"

The air between you crackled with electricity as you waited...

Wetting your lips, your eyes traveled down from his warm gaze, over his sharp nose to the fullness of his parted lips. The strong line of his jaw twitched with anticipation and that wasn't the only thing that twitched under the heat of your stare.

He pounced, rolling you underneath him, face down, nuzzling into your neck as his body smothered yours. "Are you sure, baby?" He growled, licking a stripe up the side of your neck while dragging his palms up your bare thighs. "Because I need a lot of relief."

With that warning, he pushed his way inside you, groaning on your ear. His strong hand slid around your abdomen, pulling your body against his as you began moving together. "I am sorry," he breathed.

"Shut up," you gasped as the hand on your abdomen traveled down between your legs.

You and Marc stayed in bed for hours, relieving a lot of stress. He had to re-visit the shower, not that you were complaining. The two of you did finally make your way to the rooftop, after the moon shone in the dark sky.

Wrapping his arms around you from behind, Marc nuzzled your cheek with his nose. "Can I ask you something? About your letter?"

"'Course," you murmured, tracing his forearm with your fingertips.

"What did you mean when you said I was the real Moon Knight?"

You thought for a moment, thinking back through the composition of your letter to him.

"Well...I mean - when Khonshu found you - or you found him, rather - he was in search of an avatar. The only reason he still has one is because you said yes. You're still the real Moon Knight," you explained. "I'm not saying you have to be him if you don't want to be. But if Khonshu wants Jake, he should be grateful to you. Otherwise, he might still be searching for an avatar."

"I guess so," he mumbled with a sigh. "Still prefers Jake though."

"For being a deity, he is dumb as a fucking rock sometimes," you sarcastically remarked. "I know you and Jake are different, but he may have noticed you share a body. If he needs Jake, he needs you. He needs Steven."

Marc was quiet for a few minutes, but it was a calm quiet, rather than the tension from earlier.

"I don't know, babe, I...I just can't seem to find my place in all this lately. And, believe me, I know how that sounds - a new husband, saying shit like that. It's not right."

"Sweetheart, you feel how you feel," you softly responded, resting your head against the solid warmth of his chest behind you. "You don't always have to make a judgment on that. You're too hard on yourself."

"That's what Steven says," he lightly chuckled. "You're much too hard on y'self, mate."

His terrible impression of his alter made you giggle.

"Well, you know he's right," you replied, "And - the other day, Steven told me I'm always right, so...I think you should really listen to us."

"Yeah..."

You hadn't noticed at first but the two of you had started to gently sway to the muffled tune drifting out a neighbor's open window. Something from the 1970s...American.

"Can I ask you something?" You echoed his question.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer.

"Do you want to be Moon Knight?"

He didn't answer for a while. And that pretty much told you everything you needed to know.

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @cicithemess2000  @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean peregrine-nation local-mr-frog @bitchotine @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @thebestrouge @mintellaine am i missing anyone? dividers by saradika

[sherewrytes]

Lost cause

Sukuna x reader

Sukuna and Y/n has been distant for some time. Talks and time spent together become less and less.

genre. fluff to angst (idk), established but toxic relationship, 18+

tags/warnings. boyfriend! sukuna, profanity, smoking, alcohol/intoxication, talks of depression. minors dni.

notes: This is just straight off the dome, unedited. I just had a plot and rain with it. Hope it doesn't make you cry.

You were tired

It was 8:51pm, you hadn't heard from Sukuna in two weeks really. The last messages you got was him saying

Bro stop spamming my messages. We will talk soon I thank you for checking in but I'm not in the right headspace rn, I'll talk to you soon

Thank God you can see notifications on your screen so you won't have to open his messages. You left it unopened. This is how things were between you two right now. You'd barely speak then hang out once a month, talk a bit then he's MIA again. You knew Sukuna had shit hard. Family passed, taking on a lot of responsibilities that aint his own. You knew that somewhere deep down he cared, or maybe you wanted to believe he still cared.

The I love yous over the months were less and less, you went from babe and baby to just a simple bro. You felt iced out of his life. You kept your promise to be there for him but it's like he was failing on his.

You laid in bed contemplating calling him but knew he most likely won't pick up. You contemplate smoking a blunt or just drinking altogether to ease the pain you felt but you thought "what's the point." You wondered if to pray for some sign he still wanted this and much as you did.

Your mind played on a conversation you guys had last month where he told you he still wants this relationship and still wants you. He said, "I stay away when things are hard with me mentally cause I don't wanna bring that shit to you." You laid in bed replaying old voice notes to hear his voice. You closed your laptop and turned off your wifi on your phone just so you won't be tempted to call him.

You remember the moments you'd talk for hours on end. He would always show up when you needed him most but these days it felt like you were showing up for yourself more than he was. Some days you felt tempted to end things other days you felt the love come back.

You remember another conversation you had with him after an argument you had over something, and he said he's worried that you're losing feelings for him. You didn't confirm or deny it.

It's now 11pm

You already texted Sukuna for the night, and there was no answer. Your messages were unread. You saw a text message came in. It was Sukuna it was just a voice note saying

"Hey there, good night. Still not in a good space mentally but as you know when things get tough you gotta keep going"

You listened to it, missing the sound of voice so much, it almost moved you to tears. You felt like confused on whether you should keep trying with him and being patient or just end it. You simply responded

"Thanks for the motivational pep talk and you're happy to see he's a bit better."

After that, it was back to radio silence with Sukuna again. You felt like your world was falling apart. He was the one who chose you. He pursued you, so why was he acting like this. He kept saying he cared, but he's never around. The stuff you know about his personal life is tough and you get why things are a certain way.

You were tired of always feeling like you were putting in more than you were getting, wondering if you were just being played or used. Tired of conversations so you decided to just live your life and whatever happened between you and Sukuna happened.

He was tired

Sukuna was tired of always making you feel like you meant nothing. There was no one else for him but you. His feelings for you overwhelmed him. All he could think about was you. He needed a moment to clear his head and all it made want was you. He won't deny the time away from you helped him. He was scared to come back around. He knew you weren't one to tolerate shit. He wants to be better not only for himself but for you. He hoped this time away helped you as much as it helped him.

He saw your texts, your missed calls. He was avoiding it, fuck, he was avoiding you. Maybe he was avoiding the emotions you made him feel. He still remembers how your lips felt when you first kissed him. How soft your hands were in his. How the shade of baby blue on your nails when you first met warmed his heart.

He was scared to lose you. He felt like you were done with him. He wasn't done with you. He wants to be better. He hates pushing you away. He knows it's his trauma and his pain from his fucked up life.

He hates that it's ruining everything he wants. He wants you, only you. You're the only one he gets emotional with. You're the only one he talks to on a deep level. He knew from the moment he heard you in the background some months ago when he called Toji. Your voice alone, let him know you were his.

He wants to fix things but he feels like you're done. He sees the signs. He knows he should be doing more but right now, his life and his mind is overwhelmed. He still loves you but he isn't sure if you still love him.

Sukuna finds himself outside your apartment, dreading this moment. He decided to try to fix things. He runs his hand through his hair then knocks on your door.

Your door opens and it's Sukuna. You were shocked to see him there. It's 10pm. You sigh and said "Oh you suddenly remember me?"

Sukuna face paled just a little then he sighed. " y/n, can we talk...please."

You study his face expression, you want to hear him out but decided against it. You told him frankly "Sukuna it's late. I think you should just head home." Sukuna felt tears sting the back of his eyes. There was no love or anything he remembered in your eyes. He panicked " y/n please, I just wanna explain what's been going on with me."

You sigh and close the door in his face. Sukuna was shocked he never got that reaction from you ever.

Were you done with him for real Did he not matter to you anymore Did he spend to much time away Did someone get into your head

All these thoughts were racing through his mind. He fished out his pack of cigarette from his pocket and lit one up. He stood at your door for as long as it took him to smoke three cigarettes back-to-back before he realised he should just leave.

He headed down your complex's car park and hoped on his bike and headed home. He walked into the usual. Mom and Step dad on the their phones. His little sister on his laptop. His twin brother studying trying to use education as a way out of this hell hole they all lived in.

He sat alone in his room, thinking about how he fucked up, the one thing that was good for him. He found himself outside sitting on the wall in his family back yard scrolling through old messages between you two. He saw how his I love yous became less, how you'd express how him being hot and cold upset you. He saw everything. He saw you lashing out on him cause of your own issues as well. It made him feel sick.

He approached you first and he couldn't be consistent. He started hating his life. he mumbled to himself " If shit wasn't so fucked him in my life I'd have her. I'd give her everything she wants."

he remembered an issue you both had where a former friend/ fling of yours was trying to get with you. He remembered you showing him the messages and the emotion seething through him. He remembered the fear that he might lose you to someone else. How can a guy say he knows you better than him, knows what you like what you love. That's his role. He begged you for the guys handle to have a word him with him. The guy paid Sukuna no mind.

Sukuna realized he has no pictures of you and him together. NONE. all he can do is look at the pics you sent him randomly and feel sick. Why the hell was he doing this.

He found himself back in your messages sending a long voice note.

You were pissed off at Sukuna having the audacity to show up at your door. It's been almost a month of almost little to no contact. You decided to send him home and get back to your own devices. You were scrolling on Tik Tok when you saw a message from Sukuna. You clicked on it, planning to leave him on read and saw it was a voice note. 7 minutes.

You were curious so you pressed play. The first thing you noticed was the lick of his lighter and the usual inhale. His voice sounded a bit shaky y/n. You...You, there's shit I've done that I didn't mean to do. I wasn't aware I was doing this shit. I've just been treating you based off my past experiences and that's how I usually am with people. I tried to handle you different, well they way you would want me to..... for the most part. I dont have the type fo conversations we have....had with anyone. I dont sit down one on one and talk to people the way I do with you. You heard him flick his lighter again and inhale then exhale. then he continued People around see me different than how you see me. They see me as positive and serious. The way Im with you. I don't be like that with anyone. If you get what I mean. I won't lie y/n you're difficult to deal with, fuck even Im difficult to deal with. I know you're way more sensitive and I can't deal with you, the way I deal with others in my life. Dealing with you sometimes, it's complicated for me, highly so but it's also new and different. Im still trying to learn you in that way. I've never had anyone like you before y/n. I can only do so much from what I know and try to understand your old world and how things are from your perspective. Im being honest it is difficult for me. Sometimes I need to take a step back to try to understand and if I can't, you make me understand. You heard Sukuna sigh then he continued on again.

Me working on myself and bettering myself for you and like my future with you would be an amazing thing. I understand that you gotta work hard and grind to get that shit as well but everything I do is for a reason. I don't do shit to spite anyone or hurt anyone especially not intentionally. I may be rough at times but I got my reasons. Im only human. Im always....Im used to thinking people are attacking me and I always push people away. Idk why I do. I don't know if it's ptsd, I don't know if it's self harm. I don't know if there is something I don't like about myself that causes me to act this way and push people away. I don't know if it's just that I can't accept certain things about people and certain things about myself. I try to understand a lot more every day and that's one of the reasons why I wanted some time to myself.

I wanted time for you for yourself as well to think. I wanted time for me to think. You told me when we met, I met you at an awkward time and from there everything was like a rush. I just wanted to take a breather. I wanted to live in the moment of life. hopefully this mini break which was partially intentional. I wont say it was fully intentional only partially. I felt like I didn't have a choice. I mean in a way I did and I didn't because I know couldve gotten help but at the same time y/n I didn't wanna use the time I had to just drop everything and come online and be around when I wanted to just grind and try to get shit together. I just needed that space for myself to think and comprehend things and I hoped it worked for you as well. I didn't do any of this to like really..... I won't say it's all your fault. I wanted some time to recuperate my mind. you know, there is multiple reasons why. That's why I came overI wanted to have a talk with you. I'll you sometime...if you want that and we could discuss a lot of things. Im only human.. I dont know if anything I said made sense to you y/n....

The voice note ended. You didn't know how to respond to him

He then sent you a gif with the caption this be us fr

You just stared at your screen not knowing what to say. Sukuna's words confused you. You decided to at least sleep on it and think.

[gatitties]

Hanging out

─ Tenjiku x fem!reader

─ Summary: you have the courage to ask the guys who tried to recruit you to hang out

─ Warnings: swearing, mention of ways to die, kisaki

Part one / Part three / Part four

no because I'm thinking of making a miniseries for these bois because I'm an idiot for them 😭 I think I did it a bit long, sorry-

"Come on honey! It's the first time in a long time that you've been out with friends, or talked to someone, or seemed to have friends, or-

"Mom, you don't need to degrade me anymore, I know I don't have friends."

"But not anymore! That's why you have to go out with them, you can't spend your life locked in your room."

"What are we betting? If it's the family heritage then…" a bump grew on your head from the blow your mother gave you "Okay, okay, I guess I can try to get out of the house."

"That's it! Get out there and shine love, you deserve everything good in the world."

"Even the family herit-?"

You didn't even finish when you already had another bump on top of the previous one, deciding to leave the subject you said goodbye to your mother, well, she had to go with a friend, meanwhile you finished doing some pending things that you had to finish by tomorrow. When you finished, you threw yourself on your bed, flipping through the social networks a bit, doubting whether to contact the boys, after all, you only met them once in person, the rest was all conversations in the group that Izana put you in, although you had a lot of fun with them there, it's not the same to talk on a screen than face to face.

After several minutes you decided to take a brave step, seeing that some of them were even talking on the group chat.

Tenjiku will rule the world

[Matchstick] So i grabbed the bat and left him bleeding in the alley

[Izana] deserved more punishment tbh

[Izana] we can't go easy on traitors

[Sanzu] next time leave it to me

[Sanzu] i won't let them recognize the corpse

[You] is that a new flirting method?

[You] i don't think it's very effective

[Izana] aye

[Izana] glad to see you're on

[Shion] not me

[Kaku] stfu

[Rat] protective boyfriend material huh?

[Kaku] stfu too Rat

[You] yeah leave my baby alone

[Rat] whatever [Rat] can you at least change my name?

[You] nah, i like Rat more than rindou, it suits you better

[Rat2] can you change mine?

[Rat2] i'm supposed to be the oldest

[Rat2] he would have to have the 2 not me

[Mochi] picky boy

[You] okay

You have changed the nickname of Rat2 to Rannabelle

[Rannabelle] …

[Matchstick] pfft-

[Kisaki] i keep asking why you decided to include her in the group

[Kisaki] the rumors were false after all

[Izana] do you have something against the opinion of your superior?

[Matchstick] bro she's funny

[Kisaki] ...

[You] anyway

[You] who tf are you?

[Shion] oh right, they didn't meet in person

[Kisaki] i wouldn't like it either tbh

[Sanzu] speak for you

[You] i already like you Sanzu [You] you're already among the 'handsomes'

[Shion] not that shit again- [Shion] you didn't even see him

[You] i don't need

[Koko] you're just jealous cause you're not in the handsome group [Shion] i'm not jealous [Koko] sure [You] anyway i have something to ask [Matchstick]shoot

[Rat] you want a date with me? aww, of course! [You] yikes [You] i think i prefer a date with a homeless man who can time travel than you

[Kaku] i'm really concerned about your mental health right now [Izana] she's just in her haunting nature [Rannabelle] bet she likes me more than you rin [You] i like hanma better ngl

[Matchstick] bwahahah~ i'm the favourite ♡  [You] no, you're not ♡ 

[Matchstick] </3

[Izana] so... what do u want to ask?

[You] oh right

[You] i was just wondering if you guys had some free time to hang out?

[Izana] sure ;)

[Kaku] i'm in

[Matchstick] of course i have to get to be the favorite~

You didn't pay attention to the other messages, the truth is that Izana and Kakucho were enough for you, you weren't going to belittle Hanma either, he was trying anyway. You just texted a couple more to meet up at a certain place, quickly got ready in the most comfortable clothes you could find, plugged your headphones into your phone to have a walk to the location.

Normally you were like a damn rock when it came to expressing your feelings or opening up to people, you didn't like to socialize much but it wasn't a pain either (depending on the person), the fact that you didn't like to talk or express yourself a lot didn't mean you were one of those people who get nervous when they have to order pizza by phone, call a waiter or order a drink at any bar. But today you had that little nervous feeling, as if these guys were going to judge you and decide if you were worthy or not, even though it was clear that they already liked you a little for the simple fact of adding you to their group chat.

You were pessimistic so you kept those feelings throughout the journey, however, swallow them because as soon as you saw the boys just forgot them, there were three people you didn't know, the rest were Izana, Kakucho, Hanma and the Haitani brothers. You assumed that neither Koko, nor Shion, nor Mochi were there because they had to do something important or simply didn't want to see you.

"Hey honey, here!"

Hanma waved his hand as his eyes met yours, drawing your attention to come closer once and for all, you murmured a greeting to everyone, looking at the three new faces.

"So you don't intend to introduce me to your friends? Oh wait, I want to guess, can I?"

"Go ahead, please give us one of your amazing comparisons."

Rindou said, completely amused, even though you also messed with him, your comparison ability can always make fun of others, it's not like you make distinctions, no one was going to escape your critical eye.

"Mmmh… I don't know why I have the feeling that the one who seems bacterophobic is Sanzu" you pointed to the long-haired boy who had a mask covering half of his face "he seems to have pretty features, and Sanzu is in that side without hesitation."

"Madarame must be tossing and turning in his bed when he heard you, you've got it right."

Sanzu offered you his hand in greeting, noticing how his eyes narrowed a little, he had a cheeky smile that no one could see. The next one you looked at was Mucho, he seemed almost as stoic as you, another rock on the team huh? You also guessed that it was him, then you exchanged glances with the boy with glasses who seemed to be here by force, there was no one else left so he could only be…

"Are you Kisaki? Man, aren't you cute? Are you the baby of the group or something?"

Everyone tried to hold back their laughter when you approached him to ruffle his hair in an affectionate way, more like to annoy him a bit, poor boy, you were taller than him so your action and comment only irritated him more than he already was, he moved away your hands from his head, clicking his tongue.

"Maybe you're taller, but I'm sure I surpass you in age and intelligence."

The others looked at the interaction, you had that dark look that managed to scare away so many fucking thugs, it looked like you wanted to hit him right there, but they didn't expect you to laugh like Izana the time he met you.

"Oh please, don't be silly, I'm older than you, in fact, I think I'm older than all of you."

"You're kidding, aren't you? Most of us here are of legal age and you are still studying."

Izana questioned looking at you, you scratched the back of your neck sighing, you weren't very proud to admit it, but it's not like it was a big deal either.

"Well, I'm nineteen, I repeated a couple of courses…"

"You what!?"

The Haitani brothers were the ones who were most shocked by the new information about you, you just downplayed it, the last thing you wanted right now is to be treated differently because of your age, even if it's only a year older than some, these guys can be very offended at not being the oldest.

Kakucho finished off the general daze, talking about doing something and not just standing there like idiots, so you guys moved around just taking a walk while talking about random nonsense, it went pretty well, at least the guys appreciated some 'healthy' time, since usually their free time was also related to causing chaos in other gangs.

The truth is that it was not as bad as you thought, they all seemed quite funny, Izana and Kakucho managed to drag you into every interesting thing they saw, more like the leader of Tenjiku, Kaku thanked you because he could see his friend behaving like if he were a kid again (although he did threaten the others if they made fun of Iza for being a bit softer).

Hanma and the Haitani brothers tried to irritate or flirt you, you just looked at them with a blank face, completely ignoring them when they brought up the whole 'love' and 'relationships' thing, when they weren't bothering you they were quite nice, but that meant that now you were messing with them, that was your mechanics.

Surprisingly, after a while you and Kisaki 'clicked' simply because Hanma was bothering you both, you looked at each other silently as if you could communicate with your eyes, ignoring the poor boy as you started small talk out of the first thing that came to your mind, of course that didn't stop your little comments about him being smaller than you either.

Sanzu and Mucho stayed more on the sidelines, you didn't complain, they seemed more reserved than the others, or at least less expressive, you understood them perfectly because you were like that most of the time, it's just that these guys ─Izana more than anything─ made you take out to bring out your more sociable side a little more, it was different and nice.

But you knew well that hanging out with a gang would bring trouble, some punks recognized most of the group you were with, how could they not anyway? You were unintentionally involved in a small fight, but you weren't scared either when the fistfights between the teenagers started flying back and forth, you knew it was going to happen at some point so you just watched on the sidelines disinterestedly.

Ironically, Kisaki stayed by your side ─this guy doesn't know how to fight─ because the guys felt threatened by your dark gaze, honestly you were a little scared now, but only when one of the thugs came up to pick a fight with you, you saw yourself in the obligation to use your second wild card.

´"If you get one step closer, I promise that death will be the most beautiful thing you want to wish for, how do you want your body to be found? Ah, better if they don't find it, right?"

They immediately backed away, you're lucky most people find it hard to read your true expression because if they were like Kakucho the first time you met him they would have already beaten you up. But it didn't end there, there was another brave man who came up thinking that despite your threats you would be an easy target, which, well, you were.

Everyone seemed to see just as you were hit square on the cheek, your body seemed to fall in slow motion until you hit the ground, you closed your eyes letting a tired sigh slip past your lips, watching out of the corner of your eye as Kisaki did his best to defend himself against that same guy. You dedicated yourself to looking at the clouds in the sky without even getting up again, as if you were an opossum playing dead, hey, at least that way they wouldn't hit you again.

You only lay there for a long time, you even closed your eyes because you were starting to get bored, the boys only took a few more minutes, all their bodies surrounding you, guilt gnawed at some more than others ─Kakucho was very angry with himself─ but still it remained there.

"Do you think she's dead?"

"That's something very pessimistic, I haven't been able to go on a date with her yet."

Hanma and Ran murmured over the others who kept their questions as to whether you were okay inside, they didn't know if you were that weak or not, if you suffered from some disease or anything that could literally kill you, much to their relief you opened one of your eyes noticing how the sunlight darkened because their figures obscured it.

"It takes something more forceful than a punch to kill someone, unless the person is hit with a more forceful object or has already been seriously injured, statistically it is impossible for someone to die from a punch, well, unless it is a newborn baby."

"Oh never mind, she's perfectly fine."

Everyone sighed with relief, some being more audible than others, Kakucho helped you up, asking your forgiveness for not helping you before they hit you and they decided to go to a store to buy you a cold patch for the bruise that began to form on your cheek.

"Did you really just lie on the ground to wait?"

You hummed affirmatively at Mucho's question, who was waiting with you outside for the others to leave the store, you saw that he tried to hide his small laugh at your stupidity, if he had received that blow he would not have remained impassive, that person would definitely have to have a broken neck.

"We will accompany you home, come on."

"Huh? Izana, I appreciate it, but I'm not five years old."

"We're not taking no for an answer."

"Kakucho, not you too… I'm literally older than you."

“Well, look how we don't give a shit."

You looked at Rindou with a grimace for simply dismissing your words that you didn't need a squad to escort you home, but you couldn't do anything, even Kisaki accompanied you even though he said that he had business elsewhere.

These guys would cut their tongues out before admitting it out loud, but they took a liking to you in no time, and even though these idiots were a year younger than you (most of them) they would start behaving more carefully around you, they're not going to let today's incident happen again because they definitely wanted to spend more time with you.

"Gang members but you're being soft because someone hit a girl you only talk to from a group chat, that's cute."

You closed the door of your house in their faces after saying that, you laughed silently when you heard several shouts about how they weren't being soft and that they weren't cute for that, except for Hanma, he just smiled with his typical smile because you said he was cute, did that mean that he was advancing in his position to be your favorite?

[wheatnoodle]

MMMMMMMMMPART FOUR BARK BARK BARK

other parts

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

—

eddie’s squished in the corner of his own couch, mike wheeler’s bony knee digging into his thigh. why couldn’t they pick someone else’s house? code red, group meeting, maybe the wheeler basement? not his tiny trailer?

one by one, they file in. nancy, mike, max, lucas, erica, robin, dustin-…dustin shuts the door behind him. he shuffles over to stand next to robin, scrubbing a hand over his face and staring at the floor.

“i bet you’re wondering why we um…we called this meeting,” dustin clears his throat, adjusts his hat so he has something to do with his hands. lucas looks around and he holds up a hand to stop dustin from continuing.

“everyone’s not here,” he says, leaning around to look at everyone. eddie sits up, takes his own glance at the group and does an internal head count.

“where’s steve?” he asks and sits up to look out his front window. maybe steve was just running late. he could’ve been far away or something, who knows. there’s a choked off sob that has his head flicking over to robin. she covers her mouth with her hand, turns to face away from everyone.

“that’s what we called you guys to talk about,” dustin says after a deep breath. he can’t look any of them in the eye.

“okay…what’s going on? You’re making it seem like he’s…like he’s dead, or something,” nancy scoffs softly. she crosses her arms over her chest, her face taking on a look of concern.

“holy shit, is he dead?” max asks. silence fills the room, all eyes on the pair standing front and center. why them? why’d they have to be the ones to deliver the news? robin wipes under her eyes, releasing a heavy sigh that turns into a groan of frustration. she turns back to face everyone.

“okay…um…a few days ago, at the bonfire, i tried to talk to steve because he…he’d been really quiet all night. like, nance and i were walking back up and he was still sitting there. so- so i went to talk to him. and he just seemed…really…out of it. jumpier than usual…s-sadder than usual?” she paused, needing to squeeze her eyes shut and clench her fists to keep from crying more than she had on the way over. “and he…he wasn’t at work for a few days. guess he called keith and told him he was sick and would be out for a bit.

“day he was supposed to come back, he doesn’t show. keith can’t get in contact with him. i can’t get in contact with him. dustin can’t either,” robin explains. she sounds exhausted.

“alright, now you’re freakin’ me out…did he fuckin’-…is he dead?” eddie cuts in, his forehead creasing in the center. he hears max’s sharp breath in and reaches behind mike to grip her shoulder.

“no, no he’s not- he didn’t kill-…he’s not dead,” is what robin settles on. her fingers are itching for a cigarette, she doesn’t even smoke. “dustin went to go check on him and he’s just…gone? like- like all of his things, his car, his pictures, him. he’s just gone.”

“what, he just packed up and left?” mike asks, his voice edging on anger. he furrows his thick brows, leaning forward on the couch. he looks ready to square up with someone.

“that’s…yeah. that’s what it looks like.” dustin sighs heavily.

“and nobody’s looking for him? after- after everything?” mike scoffs and shakes his head before pushing the long locks behind his ears. he stands up, moves to grab his coat.

“mike-“ nancy tries and rises as well. she reaches out to take his arm but he shakes her off.

“no, nance! look, he’s not my favorite person in the world, he’s your ex and he used to be a dick. but he’s family now, whether i like it or not, and i don’t fuck around when it comes to who i pick for family,” he starts, “also, it’s steve! y’know, hundred and one concussions? you want him just…out there? on his own? with his shit memory and his headaches, hell, he can barely hear! so you guys can sit here, be sad, whatever. i’m looking for steve.”

“‘scuse me,” eddie mumbles, barely even audible to himself before he’s putting his hands on his knees and standing up. he doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes, instead just slips a cigarette from his pocket between his lips and pushes through the small crowd in his living room. he can hear dustin call his name but he keeps going until he can shut his bedroom door and twist the lock behind him.

steve was gone. he may never see him again. he may never see him again. he may never get to smoke with him again and listen to the wild stories from high school that he never seemed to share with anyone else. he won’t get to shuttle the kids to his house or meet them somewhere and listen to the way steve mothers over them, fixing collars and reminding them to walkie if they need anything.

eddie would never be able to look into his eyes again. those big, brown, beautiful eyes that glow like the moon when eddie gives him his full, undivided attention. those eyes that eddie’s realizing he wishes he could look into them forever. and if not forever, maybe just one more time.

he wouldn’t be able to tangle his hands in his hair and feel the way the strands slip like silk through his fingers. it always looked so soft. and now he’d never know. eddie wouldn’t be able to hug him and god, what he would give to smell him right now and what kind of a thought is that to have about your fellow man friend? slow your roll, edster.

not that it would even matter anymore that just thinking about him makes eddie’s heart ache. because steve is gone. steve is gone.

and suddenly, all at once, eddie can’t breathe and he’s drowning in his own saltwater tears. the unlit cigarette falls from his lips and he’s sliding down the door, all dramatic movie style, until he’s sitting with his knees to his chest. broken sobs are yanked from the deepest parts of his chest against his will, collapsing his ribs with the force. he crumbles forward into his knees, pressing his forehead into the skin that sticks out from his ripped jeans. one hand is trying to cover his mouth and muffle himself, the other finds it’s way into his hair.

steve is gone and eddie didn’t know where he went. steve is gone and he left eddie behind. steve is gone and he is going to find new friends. he is going to find someone who makes his heart race and he is going to take them out on cheesy dates and dance in the kitchen at three in the morning and kiss them like his life depends on it and eddie is going to throw up oh my good he’s gonna be sick stop it stop it stop it.

he loves him.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

steve is gone and eddie was too late. too late too late and now everything makes too much sense. all those nights he stayed awake in bed, staring at his ceiling with thoughts of steve harrington running through his brain. every time he was in the room with the jock, eddie gravitated towards him. he’d stand behind him, prop his chin on a toned shoulder and wrap an arm around his waist. tell himself it’s just because he liked making steve jump when he doesn’t see him coming, but really he just…fits. so well against eddie’s chest. and the blush that rises in his cheeks.

steve is gone and eddie loves him.

there’s a tentative knock on the door that pulls him from his sorrow and has his head snapping up. he smacks his hands against his face to swipe away any tears, scrubbing at his eyes before he stands up.

“eddie…?” it’s robin. she sounds nervous, uncomfortable. shit. they’re probably all listening to him cry like a baby. “it’s just robin. i kicked everyone else out.” is she listening to his thoughts? “um…no, no you’re just…y’know, talking.”

oh.

“oh.” he takes steadying breath and cracks open the door, only a couple inches, enough to look at the disheveled girl on the other side.

“eddie…” robin says in a sad sigh, her shoulders slumping as she takes in the sight of him. she wants to reach out and take his face in her hands, wipe his tears and tell him how they still had each other, but she knew it wasn’t the same. and right now, she feels as though she is approaching a wild animal recently caged and cornered. reaching into his space is not what he needs.

“robin.” his voice wavers and eddie’s pulling his wobbly lower lip between his teeth to chew on.

“i’m right here.” she’s quick to reassure him. eddie turns his head behind the door as a fresh wave of tears floods his waterline and he chokes on a whimper. he sticks his hand out of the crack in the door and she tangled their fingers together, letting him cling to her as hard as he needed.

robin rests her forehead on her side of the door, lets her own tears slip as she listens to him feel his world come crashing down around him, the same she had. she wants to scream. wants to smash all of the harrington’s windows in and set the place on fire and run into the middle of the lake with rocks tied to her feet and scream.

instead, she squeezes eddie’s hand tighter and cries with him through his bedroom door.

—

september rolls around and the kids are back in school. a whole month without steve. that’s how long she makes it before max is cracking open her lined math notebook to a blank page and uncapping her pen with her teeth.

dear steve,

i don’t know if you remember even giving me this address. you were pretty drunk when you did. but, you left, and this is the place i hope you ended up. you seemed happy when you talked about it.

things are different now. we’re different. not a good different, but i have hope. dustin is pretty mad all the time. doesn’t talk except to bitch at people which was funny at first, but now it’s pretty annoying. lucas quit the basketball team. he said that his teammates kept bugging him about what happened to you since they know he was close to you. but hey, now he has time for me to teach him how to skate. (fyi: he’s shit)

part of me wants to be mad at you. like, how dare you leave me, you bastard! but i saw how you were before you left. you were so tired. i’m really proud of you for looking out for you. i would much rather know you’re alive on the other side of the country than dead here because things got too much.

robin misses you so much. she talks about you every day even though it always makes her cry. but she keeps doing it. i think she wants to make sure everyone remembers you. she writes poetry now? all starring you or this girl in marching band. but what i mean is she’s got an outlet at least. which is good. she’s good at it.

eddie…isn’t around too much anymore. he stays in his trailer most of the time which now reeks of weed and has music blasting 24/7. i will say though, he’s been playing a lot of smiths on his guitar. can you believe it?! eddie! the smiths! which brings me to reminding you that your “special friend” seems more than willing to wait.

i hope this reaches you. you don’t need to answer or anything. i just wanted you to know that i’m happy for you. and i’m proud of you. i like you more than the rest.

that random girl,

max

—

taggie waggies:

@wonderland-girl143-blog @callme-keys @kgne-k @hagbaby420 @24-7shipping @coolestjoy30 @v3lnys @sirbackpains @definitely-not-cereal-og @alienace @starlight-archer @eli-flower @luthienstormblessed @zerokrox-blog @awkotaco24 @sundead @vintgememry @adankrivervalleynearyou

[nagitoshopejar]

A show of the ages

Summary: Velvettes show has gone wrong and her adopted dad decided to help calm her down

THIS IS A PLATONIC PAIRING

“Fuck off Vox!” The youngest of the vees was throwing her usual tantrum when one of her shows wasn't going to plan, or at least the preparations before it. There was a problem. Velvette’s models were not to be seen. “Vox go find them!” 

“Velvette dear, you know what chasing bitches does for our reputation.” The TV inquired, “we have a reputation to keep. Find someone else. There's more demons here my love.” 

Velve, looking as if she was about to tear up, who knows if she was gonna cry at all, it wasn't typical of her to be teary eyed but through all the stress of the show it wouldn't be too crazy. She always manages to save her show whether that means making someone fix it or doing it herself. Right now it seems like she doesn't have a way for the show to go on. Her normally clean dressing room had clothes and props scattered about the floor in Pink haired demons onslaught and fit of rage.

“Listen my dear, I’m sure we can find someone. Perhaps we should tell your fans the truth. We could put out a contest to see who would be a new model, our ratings may go up.”

“Shut up Vox! Is everything about ratings and stuff to you?” The youngest, face turning red just as much as her hair started sputtering insults, “Help me for real or I’ll unplug your moth attracting life support you old ass ornery bitch!” Velvette while her tone was getting louder had Vox trying to calm her down.

“Velvette, calm down please we will find a way.” Vox was unsettlingly calm with his usual trademark grin plastered anywhere there was marketing.

“Vox I swear to god you are no help to you and your big dumb stupid tv head like you're supposed to be modern tech and you're old but no smarts and you're not wise. It's any wonder why anyone would even trust in our brands with a face not matching a personality or smarts like yours!” Velvette was going on about this forever even closing her eyes tight to make it seem as if she was serious.

“The time spent yelling and insulting me could be spent solving this little conundrum of yours, Velvy.” Velvette hated it when he called her by that name. Yea they had the father daughter bond of a blood family but that doesn't mean he could just call her by that name whenever he wants to.

“Don't call me that you fuckwad.” she muttered loudly enough for Vox to hear while giving him a death glare of the century. “If you're not going to help then you need to leave.”

“But Velve my dear I am. I heard your loud noises and thrashing and now… your mess on the floor. I am here to help you so just work with me here.” Velve huffed still eyes locked on the older of the two not moving an inch from her spot.

“Vox, leave. Now. NOW.” 

“Now, is that any way to speak to your dad, young lady?” Vox cocked an eyebrow with an ear to ear grin.

This set Velve off on a tangent, “you, of all people are not my dad. You couldnt even care for a fucking cat, a goldfish if you wanted to, what makes you think you take care of me? You’re old, ugly, not good for nothing piece of shit just some side piece of A-” in her incessant rambling you could see Vox with a sinister, almost mischief grin, he had a plan and was gonna put it to good use. Velve in her onslaught of insults stops mid sentence and simply drops to the ground in giggles.

“Vohohoox what are yohoho doingggg?” she whines trying to suppress her giggles like a river to a beaver dam.

“You are not behaving. Clearly I can't ground you but I can tickle you.” He walked up nice and close to her face to just mention what was happening, “you don't know this but I have little electric bolts that I can use to humble someone with mere giggly antics. You could call it a tickle ray, and we could sell it!” Vox was not excited about his new VoxTech idea but first he had to deal with the little lady who thinks she can disrespect her dad. “Shall I crank it up a notch?” 

“VohoHOHOX” of course she couldn't be belittled to begging so she just yelled at the modern man not that she did want it stop “NOHOHOHOHO OHO MY GOHOHOD!” her now ball of giggles was simply melted into a puddle of giggles as Vox kneeled down beside her.

“Maybe this will make you think twice before insulting me.. Velvy.” he snickered, dragging his pointy claw down from the forearm to the hollows to spider along Velves pit.

“NOHOHOT THEHERE PLEASE IM BEHEHGGING YOUHUHU.” 

“Awww is the little Velvy ticklish? Just a wittle sensitive? But y'know, if you don't want here I could always move to another spot.” Vox slowly trailed his finger down to her hips with her trying to squirm away from his tickly claw. Note that he's working with one hand, the rest is his tickle ray. Velve was clawing, grabbing at his hand but wasn't pushing it away.

“SHUHUHUT UHUHUP- AGH!” The little lady was surprised by the sudden squeeze on her most ticklish area. “NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE EITHERRR AHAHAHAH VOOHOHOHOHO PLEEHE!” She couldn't create full sentences quite at the moment as the TV head started using both his hands to squeeze her hips.

“You know, I haven't heard you ask me to stop or made any real effort to stop me.”

Velve was blushing like a maniac, her face red and hot from the embarrassment and laughing so much. “SHUHUT UP OHOLD MAHAN!” She was thrashing all over knowing full well she did enjoy it.

“But if you want me to stop all you have to do is apologise for insulting me.”

Through her laughter she spit out sentences mangled with words that sounded like she would never apologise even if part of it was her liking this attention and bond with her adopted dad you would never catch THE Velvette apologising. “VOHO- NOHOH- NEVEHRHRR PLEEAHAHHAHA.”

“Well then, I guess I have to keep going.” The taller figure liked the bonding like this as well. They both needed a let loose kind of activity to bond to and this was just it. Vox was enjoying tickling her just as much as Velvette was enjoying receiving it. Her smile was a genuine one, not one of forced due to the scene going on in front of them.

Eventually in the screaming laughter of the overlords Vox relented when it seemed as if she had enough and calmed down.

The TV smiling down at her, offered her a hand to help her up. Velvette, who was all giggly still from the ghost tickles, took the offer trying to stand. “By the way, the electricity might last a few extra minutes.” Vox mentioned with one last smirk on his face. “Now then my dear, why don't I be the model. I will even let you put make-up on me and dress me in pretty clothes if it makes you happy.” 

Velve with an honest and gently happy look for the first time, then had a look of astonishment, “really? Why didn't you mention that you old rag before doing that?” 

And with a soft demeanour Vox had replied looking at the littler one with much content, “you look like you could've used it you were too tense. You need to remember our reputation. I can't have you running around making us look like we lost control.” 

That night Vox put on his best performance in a dress to make his daughter a happy one.

[its-time-to-write]

Hi y’all! This is my last unprompted angsty fic for a little! Gonna go back to our usually scheduled hijinks that are sitting in my request pile, I wanted to do this one first. I write all these as a way to deal with things that happen in my own life, whether it’s stressing about school and work, stupid romance, great romance, family, health, whatever, and I wanted to say (yet again) thank you for all the support. Sometimes I still can’t believe that you all like what I write but hey, there ya go

It’s funny, because my most popular fics are the ones that have been written directly out of my actual life. The ones that start out hard-to-deal-with, or with real, palpable heartbreak. The endings are often different because real life isn’t guaranteed a happy ending, but I’m allowed to take the past and see what it would be like if things went differently.

My characterization of Jamie is based on the only person I’ve ever really loved, which is why I can write his voice so clearly. I first watched Ted Lasso and was surprised at how similar they were, stupid hair and all. A lot of these fics are my way of archiving our story and immortalizing parts of it, as well as reminding myself that the love was there. It didn’t last and it wasn’t supposed to, but it was there.

Now, what’s real and what’s fiction? I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that it’s more than you might think and less than you might hope for.

So if you read this current fic and think, “huh, that was a really specific premise,” well I got news for you! It is. I’m in the first part of my journey on this, the early stages, and this story is not the way I want things to go for me. But I’m hoping that by creating a good ending out of a rough beginning, I can better face whatever lies ahead for me whether I approach it on my own two feet or with the assistance of some really sick wheels.

Anyway, enjoy this or skip it, it won’t hurt my feelings!

how to love being alive

Jamie’s at training when he gets the call. He barely registers the words on the other side when he’s cursing something awful, enough to make Roy Kent blush, and saying something about an emergency before speeding out the door. He pauses for a moment to look up an address in his phone, then he’s tearing out of the parking lot in a manner that puts Colin to shame. 

To summarize, he’s not acting like himself. 

He pulls up to a chiropractor of all places and the girl at the front desk must be able to tell who he’s here for because she just points to a door down the hall. Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never moved this quick in his life and wonders if this could translate to the pitch. Sure he’s fast, but he could always be faster. 

He bursts through the door to see you borderline catatonic, staring at the floor while a doctor pats your arm. She looks at Jamie and says, “Let’s chat for a minute outside,” before he has a chance to say a single thing. Jamie can’t tear his eyes away from you as the doctor leads him out and shuts the door. 

“Thought emergency contacts were for like, hospitals and shit,” he says. 

The chiropractor shakes her head. Jamie notes that her name tag says “Dr. Hadley,” and has a vague memory of you mentioning her a few months ago. 

God, it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“We’re not confident she’s in a fit state to get herself home,” Dr. Hadley says. “Her headspace is a little messed up, which is to be expected. Usually people come to these types of appointments with some moral support.”

Jamie asks, “What kinds of appointments?” and Dr. Hadley tilts her head at him. 

“You are Mr. Tartt, aren’t you?” she asks and Jamie just scoffs because he can’t decide between responding obviously, or telling her no, he’s not Mr. Tartt, that’s his father. He’s just Jamie. 

Dr. Hadley knows who he is because she doesn’t live in a hole in the ground, so she doesn’t ask for identification. She takes his scoff as permission to keep talking, so she says, “She’s here for her MRI results. We’ve been in the process of treating a protrusion on her spine.”

Jamie is positive everyone in this office must think he’s on drugs because Dr. Hadley is talking like he’s supposed to know this, but for the life of him he knows you’d never said a thing. 

“Your girlfriend has been in a severe amount of pain over the last few months, and we’ve finally been able to see the extent of the problem. Apparently she thought it would just go away, but it never did. So now she’s here with us.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie says automatically. Because it’s true, innit? You’re not. You’ve been broken up for a month because he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take the irritation at attending his matches and the tossing and turning in bed at night and the fact that you were wound so tight that you’d snap at the most minor offenses. 

You hadn’t been surprised when Jamie said he couldn’t do it anymore, it’s over, and at the time he had wished that you’d shown just a tiny sliver of emotion. After all, a year and two months is a long time to be with someone for you to coldly slide him his key and then turn away as though he were a stranger. 

He could have sworn there was a glimmer of tears in your eyes, but they’d looked that way for a bit now so maybe it was just allergies. There’s no reason for you to have been in the verge of tears for the entire month before the breakup, right?

Right. 

But he can’t think about that now because Dr. Hadley is frowning at him in a way that so comically reminds him of Roy’s sister that he has to bite back a laugh. 

Everything’s all twisted. 

“I certainly hope your split was amicable,” Dr. Hadley says. “You’re the only one listed as her emergency contact. She needs someone to get her home safely.”

“Right,” says Jamie. “Yes. Fuck. Right. Um, what exactly is wrong with her?” 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head. “That’s her personal information to share with you at her prerogative. And we should probably go see her, I’m sure she doesn’t want to be alone for long.”

Jamie snorts at that. This doctor doesn’t know you at all. If you’ve received any type of bad news the last thing you want is people hanging around. 

Jamie used to pride himself on being the only one you’d let into the bad-new bubble. 

You don’t count with those other people, you’d said once while wrapped around Jamie so tight he thought he’d have to call Ted to bring a crowbar. You said, I don’t have to pretend around you. I don’t ever get tired of you.

Jamie bitterly thinks that that statement turned out to be a lie, but he shakes it off because you’ve only been separated a month, and apparently he’s still your emergency contact for a doctor he didn’t know you had been seeing and fuck if you didn’t look like the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen. He’ll pretend it’s ok for as long as it takes to get you home and comfortable, and then he’s calling this office to get his number switched off. 

So he follows Dr. Hadley back into the room as she softly says your name in order to break whatever trance has you studying the carpet like your final exam is in ten minutes. 

You can barely look at her as she whispers something about going home and being gentle, to which you nod and finally look at Jamie. 

He wonders if you recognize him, because the stare you have is so vacant that you might as well be looking at a stranger. 

“Is she on drugs?” he asks because it looks like you’re on drugs. 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head and holds out her arm to help you up. “No, she’s just in a lot of pain. And emotional distress. It’s a killer combo, and she’ll need extra gentle handling for a while. No sitting for too long, no bending, no lifting. There’s a back support at the front desk for you to take.”

Jamie thinks he hears something pointed in the way Dr. Hadley says, extra gentle. What, like he doesn’t know how bad an injury can take you out? He’s in the Premier League for fuck’s sake. He knows how to deal with a strained muscle. 

Dr. Hadley transfers your arm over to Jamie’s so smoothly that he barely understands what’s happening as she ushers you both out the door, thrusting a small foam roll into Jamie’s free hand. 

“For lumbar support,” she says. “Won’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jamie’s pretty sure he’s said thanks as you climb in the car and then he’s in the drivers seat and it’s dead quiet. 

“Right,” he says to the silence. “What the fuck.”

You’re picking at your nails something fierce. Jamie has to fight the urge to take your hand in his. A month of separation is not long enough for this shit. 

“Can you just drive?” you ask in a broken voice. “I don’t want to be sitting for longer than I have to.”

There’s a new pitch in your voice, one Jamie’s never heard before, so he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t turn on the radio or a playlist or a podcast or anything, just drives in silence. He knows if it’s quiet long enough, you’ll talk. 

He’s the opposite. He doesn’t need time to crack wide open, just a kind touch or a soft glance and he’s an open book. He was always shocked how early into your relationship you’d figured that out. A soft, “What’s on your mind, Jaim?” and he was unloading about whatever stress or fear he had. 

He’s two minutes away from your flat when you break the silence. “I have gradual onset paralysis,” you say in a voice devoid of emotion. “‘Gradual onset’ means it happens over time. Paralysis means, well…paralysis.”

Jamie can hear what you’re saying and he understands it, but what catches him is the way you’re like nothing more than a hollow body. Not cracking a joke, not picking a fight. Just- empty. 

Jamie says a long and drawn out “Fuuuckk,” because what else can you say? It’s not really his business to comfort you or to pry, except he’s the one the doctor called, so he allows himself one question. 

“How did it happen?”

Last he knew, you were healthy as a horse. 

“Two disks in my spine popped,” you reply, still in that same awful emotionless voice. “They’re not really sure how, could’ve been any number of things. Anyway, it got into my nerves. And my spinal cord. And it’s messing things up and it’s only going to get worse. The scans were to see if they could operate, because sometimes you can remove the shards. Or whatever it is. But I guess they can’t, because if they tried I’d definitely be paralyzed. So all I can do now is be in pain and wait for my legs to shut down.”

Jamie doesn’t know how to respond to any of that but he’s saved from thinking of an adequate response because he’s at your flat. 

It was smart of you not to sell it when you’d moved in with Jamie. He wonders if you knew the breakup was inevitable. 

He hops out and opens the door like a gentleman, offering his hand like he’s some Mr. Darcy-type shit, except you had both agreed that Roy was Mr. Darcy and he was Bingley. So it doesn’t fit at all except as soon as you’re done clutching his hand so you can get out without unnecessary pain, his hand flexes itself like he’s in that damn movie. 

It wasn’t even a conscious choice, just a thing his hand decided to do, and he definitely thinks he’s going to have to talk to Ted about this. Or maybe Sam. Sam knows shit and is good at empathy. Maybe he’ll know what to say when your ex-girlfriend tells you she’s not going to walk ever again. 

Jamie follows you to the door as you fiddle with the lock and push it open with a sigh. For a moment he doesn’t know if he should go inside, but it smells like honey and cinnamon because it’s the beginning of fall and he thinks that he should at least make sure you’ll be alright. 

He notices you’re moving weird. All stiff, like. You’re trying to get an icepack out of the freezer but you can’t maneuver in a way that’s comfortable so Jamie grabs it and hands it to you. 

You mumble, “Thanks,” and Jamie catches a glimpse of the perpetual glimmer in your eye. 

“D’you need me to call someone?” he asks. “I can get Keeley down here. Or fucking… Ted. Or Colin.” He doesn’t say Sam, because he needs Sam. He can’t talk to Sam if he’s here with you. 

You shake your head. Jamie wonders if it hurts to talk, but he remembers how much you hate the sound of your voice when you’re crying. 

You take a slow, shallow breath to collect yourself. “I’m ok,” you finally say. “Not much anyone can do, and you’ve got training. I- I didn’t know they’d call you. I still have to switch your number with someone else. I’m probably going to ask Keeley since my family’s still far away.”

“Right,” Jamie says. Not much else to say. Except- 

“You were seeing that bone doctor when we were together, and you didn’t fucking say anything?”

It’s accusatory and he knows it, but he can’t for the life of him say it kinder. Ted’s always on about communication and shit, and that is not communication. 

You shuffle over to the couch and use it to help you lay face down in the floor. The icepack is precariously balanced on the small of your back. 

“Didn’t know how to tell you,” comes your muffled voice. “Least, I figured out how to tell you too late. What was I gonna say, ‘Sorry I’ve been a complete bitch to you for four weeks, I’ve got shit floating around in my spine that makes me hurt so bad I want to die?’ Sounds fucking stupid.”

Jamie wants to say, Swear jar because it’s a long-standing joke, but he catches the words right before they reach the tip of his tongue. 

“You could’ve said something,” he replies instead. “Chronic pain’s shit. It’s really shit and it makes you act like shit to the people you care about. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason.” As the words are coming out of his mouth, Jamie is reminded of a time when the roles were reversed, and you were giving him the “excuse versus reason,” speech. 

You’d said, You’re dad’s an abusive prick, Jamie. Makes sense that you’d have a lot of negative emotions. 

Fuck, if only you’d said something sooner. Maybe this would be something that you’d be cracking jokes about, or Jamie would be holding your hand, or he’d be laying right next to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

But your muscles spasm so that thought gets banished as you bite on your forearm in an effort not to yell. 

“Fucking hell,” Jamie says. “I don’t think you’re sorted on your own. I’m calling Ted.”

He walks to the other room so he can pretend he can’t hear your protests. 

—

Ted leaves training to Roy, Beard, and Nate. What’s the point in having four coaches if one of ‘em can’t leave for family emergencies?

Sure, you’re not actually family, but that’s Ted for you. He doesn’t do casual friendships. 

Jamie is out the door like a shot as soon as Ted knocks with a “Sorry, coach,” that Ted barely has a chance to wave off. 

Ted doesn’t say much once he’s inside, just rambles on about training and Kansas and Henry. He’s clattering around in your kitchen and you can’t find it in yourself to care what he’s doing so you just keep laying on the floor, willing your back to stop hurting. 

Finally, he comes over and sets down a smoothie in a short glass with a straw. 

“It’s so you can drink it without moving,” he explains. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” you say more to the couch legs than to Ted.

He sighs from where he’s crouched down next to you. “You don’t really have a choice, darlin’. You have to do this. The question is, are you gonna go through it alone?”

You shrug as best as you’re able. 

“Wrong answer,” says Ted, standing up. “You’ve got a whole crew of people here who are gonna root for you and support you with whatever you need. All you got to do is ask, sweetheart.”

Ah, fuck, you’re crying again and Ted can definitely tell because your shoulders are shaking. He’s pretty sure you’d want to save face so he stands up and says, “Beard’s coming over after training. Says he wants to figure out how to modify your house for a wheelchair or something. Thought I’d make us all dinner so we’re not so hangry when he mentions taking an ax to anything.”

The mental image of Coach Beard chopping down your stairs is enough to make you smile a little through your tears.

—

Waiting is really shitty. Like, really shitty. Every day is the same thing: tingly legs, shooting pains, phantom cramps. The worst was when Dani and Richard were over and you stood up to get something from the fridge, and your legs decided at that moment to lose feeling. You panicked with your arms held out for balance as you swayed back and forth for a moment, willing your feet to fucking move. They did, but not before Dani and Richard were on you in a flash, ready to catch you if you fell.

“Well that was weird,” you joke in an effort to cut the tension. They laugh, but you still catch their worried glance.

“You do not have to put on a brave face for us,” Dani says. “If you want to joke, we will joke. But if you want to cry, we will cry too.”

“You can cry,” Richard says, “I will just pour more wine.”

You laugh. There’s been a steady stream of Greyhounds at your flat for the last week and a half. Everyone and their mother (quite literally) has come by to see you. Your own parents were coming in a week to stay indefinitely while you sorted things out.

You wonder if it’s easier to lose control of your legs slowly or all at once? On the one hand, you at least have notice. But on the other hand, the long, drawn-out waiting feels like slow torture. Every day you wake up from restless sleep and experimentally wiggle your toes. Every day, you check off one more box on your mental calendar as you count down to a date that doesn’t even properly exist.

The only person who hasn’t visited is Jamie. You don’t blame him, though. Keeley’s come round almost every single day and has been successfully switched to your emergency contact. She’s the one you’re calling as soon as you discover you can’t move.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting closer. Your legs fall asleep more frequently and things are all numb. It’s like you know you’re in pain, but it’s not quite registering with your nerves.

It fucking sucks.

—

You don’t believe in intuition like spirits and all that, but you believe in it in that your brain can pick up things that you couldn’t if you were actually trying.

That’s why you’re pretty sure this is it.

Walking is pretty much a no-go right now, so you stiff-leg yourself to the couch and sprawl out as comfortably as you can.

You call Keeley, and she’s over in no time.

“Hi babes,” she says as soon as she’s through the door, “Can I call Rebecca for girls’s night?”

“Sure,” you say, “Might as well live it up.”

Keeley replies, “Great! She’ll be here in ten minutes,” and you laugh, really actually laugh, because of course Keeley’s already called her.

Rebecca swoops in all smiles and no sympathy which is great because if one more person pushes their lower lip out at you, you’re going to scream. She’s brought drinks and Keeley’s pulling out snacks and you’re going to talk and giggle until you fall asleep, ready for what the morning has.

“Is Shandy making a move on that one player?” Rebecca asks Keeley from the couch. 

“Nah,” Keeley calls back, “He said he wasn’t interested right now. Still hung up, I think.”

“What player?”  you ask. You know what Shandy’s like, and you feel for the poor guy.

Rebecca and Keeley are silent before Keeley says, “You wouldn’t know him.”

“Bullshit,” you reply. “I know everyone on that team and I know you haven’t signed anyone new recently. Is it Colin?” 

Rebecca shakes her head and gives Keeley a look. Keeley shrugs. “You’re the one who brought it up, babes.”

Rebecca turns to you. “It’s Jamie,” she says. “She’s been trying to bag him ever since Zava showed up.”

You shake your head. “She’s not right for him. He deserves someone better than that.”

Keeley’s back from the kitchen and scrutinizing your expression. “And what exactly do you mean by better?” she asks.

You laugh. “Oh no, not me. I wasn’t talking about me. No, I’m not- he needs someone different. Like, I don’t know, Roy’s sister, maybe? She’s great and a doctor to boot. Very caring too.”

“You’re caring,” Keeley says slowly, “And anyway, Molly doesn’t like him like that. They’re just friends.”

“Hang on, are you putting yourself in the same bracket as Shandy?” Rebecca interjects.

You shrug. “I was a complete bitch the last month we were together. There’s no excuse for it. I’m just surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“You were in fucking pain!” Keeley exclaims. “You said you weren’t sleeping and everything fucking hurt and you couldn’t even think straight.”

You grab a handful of candy from a bowl. “Keels, I appreciate the sentiment, but I majorly fucked it. Like, there’s no going back. So he can date whoever he wants as long as it’s not fucking Shandy. Can we please, please move on?”

Rebecca’s eyes are narrowed but they both acquiesce. “Keeley, what about your love life? I’m sure it’s boring as usual.”

Keeley shrieks and smacks her with a pillow. “Fuck off,” she replies. “I’ll have you know it’s going very well…”

—

You were right. You wake up still on the couch tangled in Keeley’s arms, and the standard toe-wiggle just… doesn’t happen. It’s quiet, the early morning type, the kind where the sunlight isn’t so harsh and birds are chirping softly and all of Richmond hasn’t quite got up to begin their day. 

As you look at your unmoving toes, the first thing you feel is a rush of relief. The waiting’s over, you think. 

You look over to the wheelchair that’s been leaning patiently against the wall all this time. Here’s the first day of forever. You’re in no rush for it to start, so you let Keeley’s little snores and Rebecca’s heavy breathing lull you back to sleep. 

—

It’s definitely a learning curve. And it’s frustrating. And if one more person catches you crying out of sheer rage, you’re going to start throwing things. But like Ted said, you don’t really have a choice. 

Your mom said, “The only way out is through,” then grinned at the murderous glare you shot her way. She opened her phone and pulled up a picture of you, age three. “Same lovely expression as always,” she remarks cheerfully. That cracks your frown. You always were a funny kid. 

It takes a while to figure out how to get places. Keeley (the absolute angel) volunteered, but she’s busy with the PR firm and quite frankly, a little too delicate to help you into a car. You made the mistake of saying this exactly one time and because subject to a rant about how she’s “not weak, just PETITE FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!”

Roy had punctuated her argument with a couple “That’s fucking right, babe"s all while rolling his eyes behind her back. It made you giggle. 

The general consensus was that at any given reasonable hour (or unreasonable if you’re Richard or Bumbercatch) a Greyhound or coach would be able to get you where you’re needed. And today, that place is Nelson Road. 

“How often does Jamie come visit?” Jan Maas asks, straightforward as ever. 

“Um, never,” you reply. “We broke up, remember?”

“Right,” agrees Jan Maas. “We all know that, I just assumed you had gotten back together.”

You laugh. How absurd. “And why on earth would you assume that?”

“Because he talks about you all the time,” comes his prompt reply. 

Huh. That’s interesting. You haven’t received so much as a single emoji from Jamie, but hadn’t thought a thing of it. But this, this is strange. This does not fit into your idea of how broken up people act. 

“Weird,” you say. “Wonder what the fuck that’s about.”

Jan Maas shrugs and moves to lift you from the car. 

—

It’s weird to be at Nelson Road, number one because it’s been FOREVER, number two because you’re eye-level with all sorts of things you’d never noticed before (ahem, part of the wall Roy kicked that no one cared to patch up), and number three because the last time you were here, it was as Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend. 

Jan holds open the door as you roll in, ready to face whatever lies in wait. 

It turns out whatever is a very excited Ted and Beard as well as a neutral Roy who present you a coaching jacket and a whistle. 

“You’re coaching with us today because that little rat bastard Nate went to the dark side,” Beard says. 

You remark, “Tell us how you really feel,” earning a snort from Roy and a chuckle from Trent Crimm. 

“Oh yeah,” Ted says, “this is Trent. He’s writing a book.”

“Cool,” you say, “but you do know I know jack shit about coaching?”

Beard shrugs. “Neither do we. Worked out pretty well so far.” That earns another snort from Roy. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I guess I’m up for anything.”

“You mean ‘down,’” says Ted. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too soon?”

“Never,” you reply. “It’s never too soon to make trauma-related puns and this world, it’s either laugh or cry. So fuck it, I’m going to laugh.”

“Fuck yes,” grunts Roy before turning on his heel to yell at the team to GET THE FUCK ON THE PITCH YOU LITTLE PRICKS!

—

You don’t do much except sit there and watch as the coaches yell and point and run drills. It’s a chore to remind yourself not to check out Jamie’s butt as he runs by so you start thinking not yours, not yours, like a mental mantra. 

He’s not looking at you so you won’t look at him and you’re sure it won’t be a problem because there are so many people to look at and talk to, except lunch rolls around (haha) and you sit at the head of a table and Jamie’s on the bench right next to you. So. There goes the no eye-contact plan. 

You take exactly two bites of your sandwich before thinking fuck this and pushing yourself back so you can roll away. You can just take the elevator to see Becca. 

You’ve made it a good way down the hall when you hear Jamie calling your name while saying, “Wait,” so you move a little faster. 

But it’s still new and you’re painfully reminded that arms are not legs so he catches you with ease. 

 “The fuck are you running away for?” he asks, and you want to point out that technically, you weren’t running. Metaphorically though, he’d be right. 

“I’m not running,” you reply. “I was just going to see Rebecca.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “I know you, and that was running. Is it because of me?”

“No,” you say, and you realize how much you’ve been looking up today. Your fucking neck needs a break so you rub it and look straight ahead, past Jamie at a life-size decal of O’Brien on the opposite wall. 

“Why would I be running away from you? You’re not- I’m the shitty ex in this situation. I’m the one who fucked things up, Jamie, so… you don’t have to like, pretend that it’s your problem. I actually think it would be better if you were just mad and avoided me instead of whatever the hell is currently happening.”

Jamie rubs his jaw. He should be exasperated, he should, but instead the gears in his mind are turning. A few words stick out to him and then it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. 

“Hang on,” he says slowly. “Hold the fuck up. Did you mess things up on purpose?”

The moment the words are out of his mouth he wants to take them back and apologize, because there’s no way they’re actually true, except you have a look on your face that can only be described as guilty. 

“Fuuckkk,” Jamie breathes out and you hurriedly interject, “It wasn’t intentional! At least, not at first. It started because I was irritable because I hurt a lot, and then I convinced myself that I was faking it so I got mad at myself for being a little liar. And then I couldn’t sleep because I hurt so bad and everything was making me uncomfortable so I started snapping at you. I noticed it pretty quick so I figured I’d get the pain checked out and sorted because I didn’t think pulled muscles were supposed to last this long. And it turned out that it wasn’t a pulled muscle but some of my disks were all weird, and then one day in between physical therapy and the chiropractor, I fell on my back and jostled everything wrong and it fucking popped.”

Jamie thinks he knows exactly when that was. He remembers you saying something about falling while walking to your car after work and him asking if you needed ice. It was at the tail end of things, and he’d taken your stiffness figuratively as opposed to literally. Like, you were acting all cold because you hated him, not because you couldn’t move. 

“So,” you continue, “I just leaned into it. I mean, Dr. Hadley was only one of my doctors, but she’s the one who told me I- you know, could end up like this. She said if things popped and it got into my spinal cord or fluid or whatever and they couldn’t get it out, it was only a matter of time before it messed everything up. They only way to stop it at that point would be to not move so either way, I end up stuck.” 

You half-sob, half-laugh. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I could tell you were already annoyed with me so I just decided to let it happen. You’re better off without me, anyway. I hate asking for help and I hate when people give me empathetic looks or what-fucking-ever, and I was going to have to ask you for a lot of help. You don’t even fucking have time for that, Jamie.”

Jamie is at a loss for words, and you’ve run out of things to say. 

You stare at each other in the hallway by the elevator, breathing heavily. You’ve both triggered each other’s fight-or-flight response, and it seems you’re both down for a fight.

“Right,” Jamie says finally, “ok, yeah, ok. You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to have to deal with this?”

You nod. 

“Right,” he says again. “That’s fucked up.”

You don’t respond and he looks at you closely. “You know that’s fucked up, yeah?”

You shrug. 

“Jesus, babe.” Jamie runs his hands through his hair. He’s going to have to fix his headbands. “Alright,” he says yet again, “look. Dr. Sharon and me- we talk. And, you’re supposed to be able to talk to people about shit like this. Like, me playing football isn’t supposed to mean I don’t have time for the people I love. And if you’re feeling that way or if you’re hurting, you have to tell me so I don’t think you’re being all pissed off because you hate me. That’s the whole point of love, babe. You take care of each other’s shit.”

“Jamie, I can’t get places easily anymore. I can’t drive and I can’t go up steps. I will never be able to storm the pitch to kiss you or walk with you in Brazil. I get mad really easily because everything’s so fucking frustrating and I just want to punch something.” You shake your head. “You don’t deserve any of that. You need someone who can be there for you and isn’t a total pill to be around.”

“Are you fucking trying to push me away?” he asks.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Obviously!”

“Well fucking don’t. You almost had me the first time, but good luck getting rid of me now.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“For fuck’s sake, just kiss,” groans Will, walking by with an armful of laundry. 

“Fuck off, William!” you both say in unison and then Jamie’s on one knee, eye-level with you and brushing a thumb across your chin. 

“Fucking hell, love,” he breathes. “You have to remember that you can talk to me, yeah? Just promise you’ll remember.”

You nod, unable to speak. 

“Good,” he says. “We’re giving this another go. And if you can’t kiss me on the pitch, might as well do it here, yeah?”

[elulsdr]

WHAT DO PEOPLE THINK ABOUT YOU?

PILE 1 PILE 2 PILE 3

hey guys, it's my first pac ever so i would love to have your feedback. this pac also has random messages too rather than what do people think about you.

it's mainly about the messages i got. i hope it resonates⭐️ (i swear i'm better at personal readings LMAO)

PILE 1

people think you're very self oriented and love to have the power over them. maybe you have leader qualities and they can see that. i'd say they think you're more likely to choose logic over emotions. they think you're def the overthinker one. they know you know you're worth and know when and what to say something. they can feel that you like to be seen as cold hearted and powerful. in your head being numb equals having power. people think you're very materalistic as in, whatever you wear you make it seem expensive. people think you're very soft inside but don't let a lot people in. sometimes they can sense that deep down you're really insecure and they can see the other side of you. where you're not sure of anything you do, you don't trust yourself enough. sometimes you come off as really complex and a lot. you seem to be stuck on something. you want to let it go but can't really do it cause you get used to it. so that's why people can sense your imbalance energy. you could be indecisive or air headed these days. still, people know you have the strength to get over it. you could intimidate people at first but when they see the real you -which you dont show it to many they love it. maybe you got hurt on the past, that's why you put a mask like that. you could be very obsessive, and passionate about the things you love. you come off as competitive too.

PILE 2

oooh my broken heart pile.. if you recently gone through a breakup, doesnt matter if it's romantic or friends. people see youve been thru ALOT. you show it to everyone whether youre aware of it or not. people can sense the broken energy. you keep trying to explain your feelings? or what happened between you and the other person and they're like, can she move on already?? but it's cruel to think like that. cause i feel like this relationship somehow connected to your inner child. maybe the relationship helped you with healing your inner child that's why you felt those emotions that hard. people think you're sensitive and a romantic. everything i said was in the past, your energy now seems very refreshing and stepping ahead. also i have a really bad headache rn, are u ok? take care of your health and make sure you sleep enough. you have many sleepless nights. anyways, people see your steps to a better life. although you might got addicted to the new me concept and ignore everyone who tries to help you or tries to talk to you. you're like, i don't want your help i've been by myself all this long i can take care of myself from now on. they are a bit annoyed by this. they think you're a bit stubborn. DEF a hopeless romantic. don't try to burden everything and try to move on with your life asap. take your time to heal. and take people's help -only the ones who really care tho. aww i just got the 3 of swords. pls keep your precious heart safe bby. your love is enough and you will find someone that loves you as much as you love them. (wow pile 2's photo says the exact same thing, i didnt mean to do that lol)

PILE 3

hey pile 3, why do you feel so alone even if you're out with your friends? you like to ask people for advice but somehow you don't trust them as much as you trust yourself. i mean good for you but people -maybe your friends can tell that you're faking your feelings sometimes? maybe you feel the need to be happy around everyone even if you feel like shit. they can tell that. there's this person you are stuck on. it seems like you arent able to let them go. people really wonder about you guys. you could be a heartbreaker too. you and your friends are sarcastic people. people could get annoyed by the fact that you guys have fun lol. people think you have it all and you will have it all. they dont like the fact that they cant get a piece of you, your space, your time. it's like, there are people who want you but you got someone else on your mind who you seem to cant have. you like to learn more and more. you're very smart and people like that. but there's just this unknown people love about you. you have the friends, you have the grades, you have the face but what is it that makes you sad(?) and broken? people wonder the shit out of this lmao and you don't give them a chance to understand it. you tend to zone out a lot during the day and your thoughts makes you go nuts. people just seem to curious about you. they don't know enough. the more you don't give them the chance the more they wonder. people feel that you have tons of other shit to do than answer their questions. they know they don't deserve to steal your time like that.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 35

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

I jumped when the local radio station cut in on the silence after just a short cruise onto the main road from the school lot. The deejay’s booming voice let me know that I had been playing my music just a little bit too loud on the ride in and I grasped my chest.

“Wait..” I said the word aloud and frantically searched the compartment below the radio where I typically keep my phone. And then I reached into my pockets, checked my cup holders and rustled through the bag in my passenger seat with one hand. “Shit!”

My phone. Where the fuck did I leave it?

I pulled the car into the lot adjacent to the one I had just come from and gave a more thorough inspection of my vehicle. Nothing. No phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I thought for a moment, wondering when the last time was that I had it.

In class? Yes. As I walked out. Yes. I relived the text that Dr. Miller had sent me. That was the last time I remember having it. So, I assumed it had to be somewhere between the classroom and the parking lot.

I exited the side lot, got back onto the main road for a couple hundred yards and then pulled back into the parking lot where I’d just come from. My spot was still available and so I pulled back in, checking the ground around it for a sign of my iphone. Nothing.

“Come on.” I smacked my open hand on the center of the steering wheel and then got out to look around. And then I stopped for a moment. There were texts between Dr. Miller and myself there that I didn’t want anyone to see. I didn’t have a passcode because I never saw a need for one. What if someone reads them? What if someone realizes it’s him who has been texting me? I had his name as ‘Joel’ in my phone, so at least there was some barrier there that wouldn’t lead someone directly to Dr. Miller at first glance.

Chill out and just look around.

I wandered around the parking lot, and then the sidewalk. I went back down the stairwell and into the basement level, even asking random people that were lurking around if they had seen an Iphone laying around. “No,” was the repetitive response.

I gave up on the basement and took the stairs again to find nothing, as I suspected.

Maybe Dr. Miller found it. I hoped he had. He would have recognized it if he saw it laying somewhere.

I was aggravated when I emerged back out onto the sidewalk. I knew I was in a losing battle if I hadn’t found it by now. Still, I walked around the area, looking in every little place I could think of. I hoped I hadn’t accidentally run it over on my drive out. It would be in a bunch of shattered pieces if I had.

“Fuck.” I walked up the dark sidewalk a bit farther and turned back around when I felt someone behind me. Before I could contemplate if the person was a threat, Dr. Miller’s Mercedes came whipping up, invading two handicapped spots and practically screeching to a sideways halt.

My mouth hung open as he hurried out of the car, rushing up to confront the hooded stranger behind me.

“Stop!” The voice was recognizable anywhere. It wasn’t a stranger.

“Trevor?” I wasn’t as startled by his presence as I was Dr. Miller’s in the moment.

“What are you doing?” Dr. Miller asked him angrily.

Trevor pushed the hood of his jacket down away from his face. “I waited around on the chance she'd come back,” he shouted out with his hands raised. I’d never heard Trevor raise his voice. “I was just going to tell her about her phone.”

I whipped my head in his direction. “You found my phone?”

“Yeah, and I was trying to flag you down when you drove off,” he claimed, “It fell out in the parking lot.”

“Did you know he was behind you?” Dr. Miller asked me.

I looked back and forth between the two of them. “No. I.. I was just looking around because I realized I didn’t have it.”

“So, you waited for her on a chance she’d come back but you didn’t call out her name?”

“Not yet,” Trevor went on, “I was about to and then you came running at me.”

“Because I saw a guy in a hood following a young woman,” Dr. Miller went on, “On the same campus where two women have already been killed.”

“Well, I could say the same about you,” Trevor shot back. “I went to check on (Y/N) when you followed her out the back door a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, the night my car was parked in the back parking lot?” He asked, “That night? Would you prefer me walk out the front door to get to the back lot where my car is parked? That wouldn’t make much sense, now would it?”

Trevor glanced down and back up, sort of like a lightbulb went off and he had a ‘duh’ moment.

I felt awkwardly caught in the middle of a giant cluster of misunderstandings. Dr. Miller glared at Trevor. Trevor glared back.

“Whatever you guys think of each other,” I said, “I think you both are just misunderstanding what happened - on both sides of things.” My eyes met Dr. Miller’s apologetically. I was trying to sound neutral and diffuse the situation. “Dr. Miller didn’t follow me out the back, Trevor. I probably shouldn’t have been walking alone, but I wanted to see if the pond was frozen and decided to take a little walk.” Lie. A terrible lie; but who was to argue?

Trevor still had a sour look on his face.

“And I’m sure Trevor didn’t mean any harm,” I told Dr. Miller, “I did lose my phone.”

“He knows,” Trevor said, waving a hand in his direction. “He has it.”

I raised my eyebrows, relieved, “You do?”

“I gave it to him,” my classmate added. “I was going to give it to you tomorrow during Dr. Stevenson’s class, or hand it in to the campus police. I know you’re friends with that guy.” Trevor eyed Dr. Miller again.

“Well, thank you Trevor.” I nodded to him and even put a hand on his shoulder for good measure. I wanted this to end. I wanted to go home. I didn’t want any questions being asked that would make me stutter and choke on my words, or expose my relationship with our professor.

Dr. Miller sucked his teeth from the interaction and put his hands on his hips. He then reached into the pocket of his jacket and placed the phone back in my palm. Our eyes locked and I could see he wasn’t happy.

“Thank you,” I said to him, holding his stare for an extra second. “I’m sorry my mishap caused all this. Everyone should just.. get home.” I nodded. “And I appreciate the concern.. from both of you.” I looked back and forth between them, “But I’m really alright. No one has to come to my rescue.”

“He could have attacked you,” Dr. Miller looked at me with a hard glare, motioning to Trevor again.

“I wasn’t going to attack her!” Trevor shouted.

“Stop!” I shouted out loud. I could see Dr. Miller was having a hard time letting it go in the moment. “Just.. I’m okay. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have walked alone.”

“Well, it seems like it’s a habit at this point,” Dr. Miller said to me now. “Smarten up. There’s a man killing women in the area and you’re out here alone with no awareness that someone’s even behind you.”

“I thought they caught that guy.”

“They didn’t catch anybody.” He shook his head and raised his voice just slightly.

After a brief moment of silence, Trevor looked to me. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

I looked to Dr. Miller and I could tell he hated the idea. If he was capable of breathing fire, now would have been the time. He was fuming and it was written all over his face.

“So she doesn’t walk alone,” Trevor added, challenging him.

“Thanks, Trevor.” I looked at Dr. Miller with apologetic eyes and anticipated an argument back at home.

Dr. Miller watched us go and I knew he wouldn’t leave until he knew I was safe in my car. I bid him a casual farewell and allowed Trevor to walk with me the rest of the way. When I glanced over my shoulder toward him, his eyes burned into mine.

“Hey, really,” I said to Trevor as we went, “Thanks for grabbing my phone. I appreciate it-”

“I thought you said you couldn’t ski,” he interrupted.

“I can’t.”

“Well, why do you have lift tickets then?”

“Excuse me?”

“Lift tickets. Vermont. I saw a notification pop up on your phone.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s none of your business. Why were you going through my phone?”

“I wasn’t going through your phone, it just popped up.”

“Well, still, it’s none of your business,” I said harshly, “And if you must know, my roommate Tori booked a girls weekend. I really don’t ski. I just agreed to go so I could get away for a few days.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that instead of saying you were going to see your parents?”

“I don’t know, Trevor.” I shrugged, “We don’t know each other very well. I just.. I don’t know. You shouldn’t have looked at my phone.”

“I know. I wouldn’t have. It just popped up in my face and you had just told me two minutes before that you didn’t ski.”

I sighed and shook my head.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Trevor went on, “I invaded your privacy and I had no right to question you.”

“Thank you.”

“Dr. Miller creeps me out.”

Talk about an abrupt subject change.“Why?” I shook my head and squinted my eyes. I needed this part of the night to be over.

“He had to have been watching you to know exactly where you were when I started to walk up to you.”

“Maybe he was doing the same thing you were doing,” I suggested with a shrug.

“No.” Trevor shook his head, “I don’t trust him. Maybe he was waiting for you because he’s the Lady Killer.”

The Lady Killer. The fucking Lady Killer. I was sick of hearing about this shadow; this lurker. This evil manifested that was making everyone, myself included, fucking crazy.

“Dr. Miller isn’t the Lady Killer. The Lady Killer is Alec Pryor,” I informed him.

Trevor shook his head. “You apparently aren’t up to date on your facts.”

“What do you mean?”

“They found that guy in Pennsylvania. They brought him in for questioning and he had an alibi. There was even camera evidence that he was somewhere else when the second murder took place.”

What?  “Then why would he run?”

“He gave two reasons. One, he thought he was going to be the patsy and go down for the murders even though he didn’t do them.”

“Well, he’s a sex offender. I wouldn’t feel a bit bad for him.”

“But a killer would still go free,” Trevor argued. He wasn’t wrong.

“What’s the second reason?”

“He thought someone was going to kill him.” Trevor nodded toward me. Did I hear him right? Poor Alec Pryor thought someone was going to kill him. Gee, I couldn’t imagine why. 

“Bullshit.” I shook my head, “He’s looking for sympathy.”

“Maybe.” Trevor went on, “But there was evidence to support his claims that someone broke into his home the night he fled. He fled to get away and stay alive.”

“Well, we should all be glad that a sex offender is alive,” I said with heavy sarcasm.

“(Y/N), I want that asshole behind bars as much as the next guy,” Trevor confessed, “And I wouldn’t bat an eye if he died, but you’re missing the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“There is a coed killer still out there who hasn’t been caught. And I hate to say it, but Dr. Miller is right. Do you have a death wish?”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I’m out of here.”

“I’m sorry,” Trevor reached for my arm to pull me back. “I just think you should live by the motto, anyone who isn’t a killer is a target. I mean, what if I was the killer tonight and you were just wandering around alone?”

“Are you the killer?” I asked, showing zero concern in the expression.

“No,” Trevor said, exasperated right away. “Me? A killer?” He let out a laugh and I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. “I would worry less about me and more about our professor.”

“Dr. Stevenson?” I joked.

“You know who I mean. I know everyone loves him, including you, but I know he’s hiding something.”

Yeah, he’s fucking me. I would have loved to shout the snarky truth in his face but I would never. Plus, I didn’t want to label the depth of what we had together with a word as simple, shallow and overused as just ‘fucking’. 

“I’ve got to go.” I ducked into my car. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Trevor. And thank you for getting my phone back to me in one piece.”

“You can thank Dr. Miller.” He shut the door once I was in and began to wander away.

I immediately checked my phone and I saw Dr. Miller’s text.

Wrap it up, he wrote, we need to get home.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[voxofthevoid]

I get hate comments on my fics once in a while and I do my best to ignore them. The few fans I have are amazing, but those 1 or 2 awful comments stick like bubblegum in my brain for MONTHS. I write FF to deal with my anger issues, but sometimes I feel like it's a lost cause when I get comments like that.

How do you deal with the anger/frustration? Any tips for a newbie?

...I generally just call them a cunt. To their face and also here on Tumblr. Being the bigger asshole is my chosen method for dealing with hate comments.

I don't go around recommending this method, but if you struggle with anger issues the same way I do, it might actually be helpful.

The most common advice for handling hate comments is to delete and/or ignore—basically, to not give them the satisfaction of getting a rise out of you. Objectively, I think that's good advice, albeit reductive in how it characterizes the haters. Some of them just want attention, yeah, but some really believe what they're saying or think they're exercising their civic right to be a hater. The vast majority are anonymous cowards either way, and even the ones who slap their name on their bullshit usually can't take what they're dishing out. You can't really know what type you're getting though, so deleting/ignoring is optimal in that sense.

I've tried that. It didn't work out because, like in your case, it sticks to my brain for months and keeps pissing me off.

So I switched to just tearing them a new asshole, plus putting up a hall of shame on Tumblr. And that's worked wonders. I get it out of my system and am calm afterwards. As for the hate commenters, most of them scuttle away like garbage rats. Honestly, I've only had one person keep coming back for more, and that seems to be a case of unhinged obsession with me—always a risk for any writer (or anyone who gets public attention) but not very common behavior overall.

Ultimately, my stance narrows down to two things:

Hate comments say more about the commenter than you or your story. It's anti-social verbal diarrhea from people who never learned that the world doesn't revolve around them, and it should be afforded exactly that level of value. It's a matter of whether you silently clean off the mess or call them out for taking a shit on your carpet.

Your Ao3 comment section is not a democracy. Free speech protects one from the government, not a pissed-off author. Anyone who starts shit in the comments forfeits any right to be treated with civility.

TL;DR: Call them a cunt.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you're tired of your relatives asking you if you're still single every Christmas. on the spur of the moment, you lie that your have boyfriend. luckily, your best friend sweeps in like your knight in shining armor to save the day pairing: jin x reader genre: romcom with a lil angst, best friends to fake dating to lovers warnings: nosy annoying relatives, lying, fake dating trope, one bed mentioned, some crying, insecurities, confessions, kissing, it is quite mild tbh author's note: the title is super lame but hey, Jin likes dad jokes so here we go 🤷 also i intended to post this for his bday but didn't have enough time to finish it word count: 2.4k

Christmas is the loneliest time of the year for you. Even though you spend it with your relatives, they always make a point of asking whether you are still single. Spoiler alert: you are. It's gotten annoying that they don't appreciate you for your academic and personal achievements and they are only interested in your relationship status. You are so tired of the recurring question which is why you dread Christmas so much. A few weeks before it, you get a call from your parents.

"You're coming home for the holidays, right?"

"Of course, mom," you respond, rolling your eyes.

"So…have you found a special someone?"

There it is. Again. Ugh.

"If I hear this one more time…" you sigh.

"Got it," your mom chuckles condescendingly, which frustrates you to no end.

You don't know what spirit possesses you to do what you do next but the words are out of your mouth before you can think twice about it.

"I actually have a boyfriend but maybe if you weren't nagging me about it every Christmas, I would have told you earlier."

"You do?" your mom exclaims, surprise evident in her voice."Well, isn't that wonderful! You should bring him, introduce him into the family."

"He's really busy, mom, I don't think he'll make it," you keep lying, trying to get out of the situation you'd brought upon yourself.

"Nonsense, no one works on Christmas. I expect to see the happy couple soon. And no excuses!"

Before you could argue, your mom hangs up. Great. Now you have two weeks to magically find a boyfriend to bring home for the holidays.

You are sitting on your best friend's couch, playing games with him.

"Damn, you're so good at this!" you shout in fake annoyance at being defeated but you are actually happy for him. You know how much Jin loves winning.

"What can I say? I was born this way," he smirks confidently and puts the console on the table.

"Humble, as always," you tease him, nudging his shoulder.

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"Why? I thought you loved Christmas movies and decorations and all things Christmas-related," Jin tells you and you are beyond touched to have someone who knows you that well and remembers such details.

"I do, but…I got myself in a bit of a predicament."

"Do share," he turns to the side so that he can face you.

"Well, you know how my relatives always ask whether I'm still single? And they're especially persistent around the holidays."

"I know," he laughs. "You've only complained about it like a hundred times."

"Sorry," you grimace at your own predisposition to torment your best friend everytime something goes wrong in your life. "So, um…this year I told my mom I have a boyfriend."

"And I learn about this now?" Jin puts a hand on his heart, expressing disappointment that you'd kept such a big secret from him.

"What? No, I don't have a boyfriend. I lied to my mom and now she expects me to bring a guy to meet the family."

"Oh, shit," he now understands why you're not looking forward to Christmas.

"Yep. I'm such a mess. Everyone will be so mad at me when I come home alone. Again. Kill me now."

"Well…you don't have to be alone."

"Huh?"

"Hear me out. What if I pretend to be your boyfriend? Just for the holidays. Then, your relatives would get off your back."

"Jin…I can't ask this of you."

"Good thing you're not asking. I came up with this brilliant idea myself. If it bothers you, you can tell them we broke up some time next year. Don't you want one Christmas of your relatives not repeating the same old annoying question?"

"I do want it, more than anything. But I would hate to inconvenience you…"

"Come on, it will be fun! My parents are spending this Christmas in Australia, drinking cocktails and soaking in the sun. It's not like I have anything special planned. It would be delightful to spend it with my best friend," Jin keeps talking and you are almost convinced.

"What about your best friend's super messy family?" you try to change his mind.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll charm the pants off them."

You are not worried about how your relatives will immediatelly fall in love with Jin. You are concerned that it will be you being charmed…

You are revising every small detail while Jin is driving his car to your grandparents' place.

"When did we start dating?" you ask him.

"Three months ago. We naturally realized that we are great friends and would make an even greater couple," he responds without hesitation. "How did I ask you out?"

"You told me I am the best thing that happened to you and I would make you the happiest man in the world if I went on a date with you," you reply naturally. "What was our first date like?"

"We went to watch a movie together, after that we had dinner at a lovely restaurant and I walked you to your apartment where I kissed you in front of the doorstep."

"The roses! You forgot to mention the roses!" you cry out, almost panicking. This has to be perfect or your snoopy relatives might suspect something.

"I was supposed to bring roses to your grandparents? I thought the wine would be enough," Jin mumbles in confusion.

"No, for the first date details! We agreed that you'd mention the roses. What if…what if they ask and we mess something up and…"

"Darling, relax. We've got this. We've been best friends for seven years. We know each other well enough to handle anything."

You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he calls you darling. Damnit. When he'd suggested pretending, you hadn't thought about the fact that it wouldn't be pretending on your part.

"Do you trust me?" Jin asks.

"Unequivocally," you assure him. It is yourself you don't trust.

Once he parks the car, you are immediately greeted by a bunch of your relatives.

"Come, come! It is lovely to meet you," your mom welcomes Jin.

"Mom, this is my best friend," you say by force of habit and then correct yourself, "and now my boyfriend, Jin."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Jin shakes her hand politely.

"Pfft, call me by my name," your mom says and introduces herself.

Quickly enough, your poor bestie is hounded by your grandparents, your aunt, your cousin and her kids. It's a lot of excitement considering you'd just arrived and you are already looking forward to going to bed. You love your relatives but sometimes they can be…a lot.

Jin, however, seems to be thriving. He talks to your mom about cooking, to your grandparents about fishing and politics, to your aunt and cousin about acting and singing. Even the kids seem to love him, as he takes the time to play hide and seek with them. He also promises to build a snowman with them when it is warmer tomorrow. You have no reason to worry and yet, seeing him naturally fit in with them on their first meeting…when you have felt like an outsider your whole life, is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You excuse yourself from the table, saying you need to use the bathroom.

Not expecting anyone to notice your absence, you cry quietly in your room, feeling as if you have never been good enough and your relatives were always disappointed in you. You hear a soft knock on the door, which takes you by surprise.

"You alright, love?" Jin asks.

You let him in and he wraps you up in one of his warm hugs that have the magical ability to make you stop crying.

"What's wrong? I thought it was going well," he whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"It's going splendidly," you agree. "It's just that…they love you more than they do me."

"That can't be true, you're the most precious granddaughter, niece and cousin anyone could possibly have."

You sniffle and look up at him.

"You only say that 'cause I'm your best friend," you try to make light out of the situation.

"Girlfriend," he corrects you with a wink.

"Right," you chuckle through the tears.

"Come on. Let's not give them the opportunity to discuss us behind our backs," Jin jokes and you decide to return to the table. He gives you the strength needed to face them again.

The Christmas holidays go by smoothly and in the blink of an eye. The days are filled with laughter, hot chocolate, yummy meals, wholesome Christmas movies, cozy socks and snowball fights with your cousin's kids. This might be the best Christmas you've ever had. You wonder if it's Jin's presence that made it so special and heartwarming. During the family dinners, he is the life of the party, always knowing the right thing to say to each and every one of your relatives. And when the two of you are alone, cuddled up in your room, he is your rock. You know you can count on him and tell him everything that has bothered you. And you know that he would understand you and comfort you like nobody else could.

Which is why it hurts so much when he is now driving you both back to the city. The pretense is over. You would no longer have an excuse to hold his hand or sleep in the same bed as him or kiss his cheek so openly. He is back to being your best friend. And perhaps that's the way it should be. You couldn't risk your friendship by doing something stupid like confessing your undying love for him. No, that would certainly be a terrible idea. Perhaps more terrible than having him as a fake boyfriend for the holidays.

"What's on your mind?" Jin asks.

"Hm?"

"I can see the gears turning in your head. Something is bothering you."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to look at the road instead of the gears in my head?" you tease him.

"I can multitask. Come on, just tell me."

"It's nothing. I just found myself wishing the Christmas holidays could last longer. I really had an amazing time, which doesn't usually happen around my relatives."

"Glad I could be of service," Jin smirks proudly, making you laugh. You would never grow tired of his casually confident nature.

Silence ensues for a couple of minutes and you are back to worrying and thinking about your unresolved feelings for your best friend. When suddenly, he interrupts your thought process with an unexpected suggestion.

"How about we have a second Christmas?"

"A second Christmas?" you repeat in confusion.

"My place. Just the two of us. We'll do all the things we didn't have the chance to do at your grandparents' house."

"Such as?" you inquire, wondering what you've missed.

"We'll play games and I'll make you my famous roast beef. We'll have midnight snacks and watch anime with no one judging us. We'll bake Christmas cookies together and we could even go ice-skating."

"That…sounds lovely. I'm in," you immediately agree, excited to have a second Christmas with Jin. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle will happen.

The next day, you arrive at his place and are amazed to find how magically decorated it is.

"Ta-da! Welcome to your own personal winter wonderland."

"My goodness, Jin, it looks incredible! How did you achieve all this so quickly and all by yourself? You must be exhausted."

"Nah, it was my pleasure. And besides, seeing the smile on your face is the best Christmas present I could hope for," he responds.

"Merry second Christmas to you, too," you grin and give him a hug. It feels so natural and like you were meant to end up right there.

As promised, the two of you get to do all the things you couldn't at your grandparents'. You watch the spiciest animes with zero shame, you eat ramen at 1am and you play violent games that would make your relatives gasp in horror. It is genuinely the most incredible Christmas. Even more incredible than the time you spent with your family.

But all good things inevitably come to an end. Tomorrow, it is time for both you and Jin to go back to work. And with that, the magical holidays will be over. You don't want them to be. You wish you could stay in this bubble forever, with Jin's arms wrapped around you.

"I should probably head home. You have to wake up early tomorrow."

"Or…you could stay. We can share the bed," Jin suggests and you can swear you hear a hopeful hint in his voice.

"Jin…we're no longer surrounded by my nosy relatives. You don't have to pretend it's okay with you to have me intruding on your personal space."

"Who said I was pretending?" he whispers and you probably shouldn't but you allow yourself to dream. There is no way he feels the same…or is there?

"Don't…don't say stuff like that if you don't mean it," you mumble, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

"I'm tired of hiding it, sweetheart," he sighs and presses his hand against your cheek. "I only offered the whole fake dating thing because I was hoping you would finally get the hint and realize how important you are to me. But in case it wasn't obvious enough, let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Crazy. About. You."

You blink in shock.

"Pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming. You…like me back?"

"How about I do something better?" Jin smiles softly and leans in to kiss you. It is slow and sweet, just as how you'd imagined it hundreds of times. No, scratch that. It is so much better. He makes you feel so special and loved. You wish you had confessed earlier. You have been missing out on so many Christmas kisses.

"Look up," Jin says gently once he finally breaks the kiss.

You do as he asks and you realize that you have somehow ended up under a mistletoe decoration he must have put up and you haven't noticed before.

"Aww, man, did you only kiss me because of that mistletoe?"

"Let me take you to my room and prove you otherwise," Jin vows, grabs your hand and urges you to follow his lead.

Christmas is truly the most wonderful time of the year.

The End

[cultpastorkevin]

Jean ;; On Giving A Fuck

I have seen mixed reviews from the chat regarding how much yet simultaneously how little Jean cares for his Raven-teammates. They seem to settle mostly on a “he can’t help it, he cares so much, he’s just a softie at heart, all that torture and he still gives a fuck”

put the brakes on yourselves and let me explain to you something about cults : )

When you are in a cult, especially one that engages in violence and extremes, connections fucking matter. They don’t need to be deep. They don’t need to mean shit. What you need is an understanding, a “I scratch your back you scratch mine” and humans inherently will depend on and become bonded to the people they spend all their time with and are forced to trust. You need someone reliable. You need consistency. You need safety. People within the cult can provide you that, often at a cost, but in the end it is for self preservation.

Jean does not love his teammates because he is kind at heart. He does not save Zane’s life because even after so much, he values Zane. Fuck no. Jean gives a fuck because he had to; he had no choice but to, and cult connections are strong enough to kill. You don’t get to walk away from something like that.

The Ravens are dropping like flies. You ever wonder why? Once one of them killed themselves (Riko) the Nest fucking shattered. As soon as cult members start losing who they have to keep them sane and push them through the worsts, they snap. 16 Ravens got put on suicide watch. 16. That’s an entire classroom.

Riko. Jean tried. Wayne. Colleen. Zane tried. Jasmine would’ve if the suicide watch wasn’t implemented. You don’t put people in the trenches together, make them dependent on a partner setup, then forcibly rip them away from each other and expect them to be able to just cope.

Cults are a hive mind. You orbit each other whether you want to or not. Your lows drag each other down and your highs elevate you to the gods. Partnerships in cults are one of the best ways to anchor the members into them, to keep you there and trap you. You and your partner will become each others air and water. One of you stumbles the other is there to catch, and if one of you wins, the other was right behind pushing you up. There is no “me and my” there is only “us vs the world” because a cult takes you, melts you down and remolds you into a link that helps them build their fence.

The Ravens didn’t deserve it. They didn’t deserve feeling so lost after being removed from the Nest that to them the only natural option was to kill themselves. Jean knows this, he’s been there. He wants them all to burn because he is seeped in anger and hatred and god he wants them all to rot in hell because he loathes what the Nest stands for but it is home but he doesn’t want them to kill themselves because they don’t fucking deserve to die before getting a second chance, because them dying off makes you wonder if it was all worth it. Was it? Is continuing worth it if everyone you bled with for years is dying around you and you’re left clutching onto memories that are too heavy for one person alone to keep? Last man standing is a trope that people idolize, it means resilience and strength, an ability to beat the odds. Last man standing for a cult means indescribable guilty grief.

He is trying to unlearn soulwrenching, forced loyalty. They all are. They are so young. They didn’t deserve this.

[littlemisskookie]

Crocodile Tears: Ch 3 Teaser

Lucky for your shaking legs and exhausted body, Taehyung carried you back to the house from the woods. You didn’t even have to ask him, simply accepting the kisses he peppered across your face adoringly. He pulled you up and into his arms, pulling the hoodie back onto you and carrying you back to shelter. You giggled, swinging your legs a little as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving soft kisses to his neck as a tired thank you. Whether it was for carrying you, fucking you- no, fuck it, both- he seemed to understand. He turned his head to capture your lips once you were back on the porch. He gently put you down on the couch, brushing your hair now that you guys were in better light. “How’re you feeling, pretty girl?”

“Wonderful,” you replied honestly, a warm buzz going through your body at his words.

He kissed you softly, his demeanor so sweet and endearing in comparison to how brutally he had fucked you just moments ago. You couldn’t help but lean in further, wanting to deepen the kiss, to feel more of Taehyung. As though hearing your thoughts, Taehyung smiled into the kiss, slightly leaning back and forcing you to follow in desperation. “Careful,” he murmured against your lips in warning. “You might get addicted.”

To him or to sex, you weren’t sure. Again, perhaps both. “I might be already,” you whispered back, moaning softly as you feel his tongue pressing against yours sensually. “Could get used to this.”

“You can come to me for this anytime, sweet girl,” Taehyung grinned assuringly. “I don’t think just a taste was enough.”

You sputtered at that, eyes wide. “You consider that just a taste?”

Taehyung’s devious smirk only deepened, confirming his words. From the corner of your eye you spot your discarded underwear being taken by Taehyung. You’re suddenly embarrassingly aware of how naked you feel underneath just the oversized hoodie. You reached out towards Taehyung, but he calmly grabs your wrist to stop you. “Nah,” he said smugly, grinning at your pathetic expression. “Want you to squirm all day with my cum inside of you- let the next guy find it.”

You guffawed at him in disbelief, shaking your head and reaching for the bong from earlier. Unfortunately, most of the bowl was already spent, and you were only able to get in perhaps three hits with Taehyung before it was dead.

“You want more?” Taehyung questioned.

“More what?” You question suspiciously. You were beginning to question if Taehyung had also eaten one of the sex brownies to keep up with your increased libido.

He laughed at that. “Weed. Go up to Namjoon’s, I think he’s got a bunch of his good shit in his room. He won’t mind if it’s you.”

You felt a bit more confident about that. At worst you were going to run into Namjoon, and knowing him, he hasn’t touched his phone all day. Namjoon was the type to go on about how phones were rotting people’s attention spans and ruining connection- which is true, you feel as though you’re an overgrown iPad kid at times- and so tries to spend as little time on it as possible. Most of the time he was on Do Not Disturb and would only bother to check a message if the person decides to notify him already. He was also notorious for being bad at responding. There was no way he was one of the people who had been dropped your secret blog.

Knowing him, he was probably lounging on one of his sofa chairs in his room and smoking. Namjoon was a big reason you guys had so much weed to spare today, as one of his hobbies was growing plants, of all kinds. His most impressive had ended up being over six feet wide alone, his green thumb proving to be one your entire group could deeply appreciate. Namjoon doubled as a dealer for many of you, though you of course got the biggest discount. No one gave you shit for it- except Jimin.

Lucky for you, you didn’t run into anyone on your way up to Namjoon’s room, and true to theory he was sitting in his chair, reading a book and smoking out of a pipe. It was one of those old-timey fashioned ones, a gift you specifically had given him as a joke. Truth be told, it suited him.

He looked up at you with an unsuspecting and innocent smile, giving you a breath of relief. He didn’t know.

“Y/N, what’s up?” Namjoon questioned unassumingly, his voice deep and raspy from smoking.

“Not much.” Just praying you can’t smell the cum I’m trying not to let dribble down my thighs. You motion to the pipe in his hand. “Can I hit?”

“Of course,” he responded, passing it over. Hopefully he didn’t mean it for just the weed.

You gratefully took the pipe, lighting it and inhaling the smoke. God, Namjoon looked so good, with his meaty thighs spread before you like a platter. Before you knew it, dirty thoughts raced through your head as your gaze locked with the little amount of his thighs the shorts revealed. You were akin to a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankle for the first time, despite the fact that you had been fucked two ways to Sunday by two men already.

But… what will one more hurt? Who could resist sexy, charming, intellectual Kim Namjoon? He was so respectful and sweet, how could you not just suck his dick?

(How long did these fucking brownies last???)

You tried to recall your experiences with drugs before. Before your tolerance for weed had become as exceptional as it is now, you could still feel high through a “high hangover”, as you and your friends called it, until the day after. When you did mushrooms it lasted for about six hours, and you couldn’t sleep during the entirety of it. You wondered if the brownies would work the same way. Maybe it was the brownies dosage or your own insatiable need that left you restless for more.

“Whatcha reading?” you inquired, sitting down in the sofa chair next to his. You guys were only perhaps a foot apart, now, and when you crossed your legs and bounced your foot you could tap against him. The energy Taehyung had fucked out of you seemed to be returning.

“One of my philosophy books,” he answered, taking the pipe from you to take another hit. “It’s not the type you’d like.”

“Mm, that’s true, I’m more of a fantasy type of girl,” you say. Your favorite books to read were romances in faraway lands filled with mythical beings- who you could fuck, of course. You let your foot run lightly over Namjoon’s shin, hoping he’ll catch on to your flirtation through the double entendre. Surely a smarty pants like him would get it.

“Are you?” Namjoon asked. Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the door swings open to reveal none other than Min Yoongi.

Unlike Namjoon, the look on his face when his gaze met yours did not read as friendly and oblivious. No, instead his eyes darkened and a small smirk formed on his face as he made a beeline to the two of you. You tensed, adrenaline rushing through you as though you had been caught in the act. In a sense you were- you probably would’ve jumped Namjoon’s bones if he gave you an opportunity. Yoongi’s smile was so similar to the one Jungkook and Taehyung had worn right before devouring you. Excited, cruel, the smile of one who already won but wanted to rub it into someone’s face. Sadistic.

He knows.

[saikolikes]

Aki’s P5R  fanfic recs! (part 2)

Hi and welcome to another one of my recs posts! As you can see, this is part two: part one of this post can be found HERE and includes fics I bookmarked between April 2019 and December 2020. This second post will deal with everything I bookmarked during 2021 and 2022 (... so yes, part 3 is bound to happen some times in the future)

Here a brief disclaimer:

Everything in here is spoiler for either P5 vanilla, Royal, or Strikers;

I won’t report the tags, as it would take too long, so if you’re interested in a fic, please open the link;

Fic recs obviously reflect my tastes and preferences. For example, I love suffering and I don’t like fluff or domestic works, so browse this list knowing that;

The stark majority of the works here is shuakeshu

If you want more recs you can find them in my bookmarks, most of them are public!

MY ONGOING RECS Again, I don't read a lot of ongoing works (although, admittedly more than in the past) and these are the ones I'm subscribed to that I'm adoring!

The Lovers, Reversed by salexectria, Terra5 (E) | Royalty a/b/o AU | akeshu | series in three parts, ongoing "A Thief is caught stealing from the Northern King, and is sentenced to death for his crimes. The Alpha Prince intervenes, but at what cost to them both?" What I love about this AU is the amount of politics and worldbuilding put into it, as well as the uniqueness of double povs who constantly switch from Akira to Goro creating one back and forth that acts literally like poking into their minds. Plus the slow burn and the pining are just on point.

never die when I'm dead by threerings (E) | Royal & post-Royal | akeshu | series in 2 parts, ongoing Two one shots featuring one of my absolute flavors of this ship: sad, intense and unhinged

IDC FOR UPDATES I resolved to defeat my abandoned-wip trauma one excellent fic at a time so here's a list of works that haven't been updated in a while or the author straight up confirmed they won't keep writing them, but they are so good you just have to read them and let them remodel you. Do it. Do it now.

the year of the knife by theexistentiallyqueer (M) | No powers AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "The plan for Akira's junior year of high school was to keep his head down and his nose clean, but he hadn't counted on his new high school having more trouble than it was worth--and he specifically didn't plan on Akechi Goro, the haughty, machiavellian vice president of Shujin Academy's student council, dragging him face-first into political scandal and a series of encounters that would change his life." Please let teq bring you through a journey of spot-on characterization and stunning prose that will rewire your brain chemistry completely. Their take on machiavellian Akechi is really good, and the snark Akira spits in this fic is really something I cherish.

kiss & cry by MajorGodComplex (T) | Figure skating AU | shuakeshu | 2 chapters "Goro’s first thought when he hits the ground is some combination of the words ‘shit fuck hell fucking bullshit bitch fuck motherfucking hell.’ His next thought is wondering whether Akira Kurusu, senior debut, constant thorn in Goro’s side, and the only person anyone this season seems to talk about, is also trying to land a quad axel at the moment." I don't know what to tell you, the prose of this one is so witty and funny you just have to read what's published of it as of now!

honeybrains by succubused (T) | Time loop | shuakeshu | 4 chapters "a chronicle of the twenty-fourth time akira kurusu lived through the month of january 2017" What can I say, I am really a sucker for time loops and this fic took me by the heart. Tagged as character study and with rights because the characterization here is very interesting!

in the snow globe by aminami (E) | Time travel | shuake | 1 chapter "It’s your heart,” Joker says like it’s the most obvious thing. “Your desires, your hopes, your fears. I’ll carry them with me always. My little snow globe." This fic will hurt you so badly but it will be so worth it, I swear. It's just so melancholic and tender and angsty and it carved a place in my heart.

my love has never lived indoors by rhodophytae (E) | a/b/o | shuake | 1 chapter "Ren Amamiya knows he's an alpha, and he's comfortable with that, but he's pretty sure that being an alpha is, well...different for him than it is for other people. He resigned himself a long time ago to the fact that he'd probably go his whole life without finding anyone else like him. And then he meets Goro Akechi." This fic has such an interesting take on omegaverse! Paired with a stellar characterization and delicious pining, it's no surprise it's a fic I will never forget.

GENERAL RECS The fics I’ve enjoyed the most and that I go back to reading sometimes.

how joker and crow survived the coronavirus pandemic of 2020 by shntlvs (T) | Royal | shuakeshu | series of 2 works "Escaping from Maruki's false reality gets interrupted by the Coronavirus pandemic." Could you have ever imagined reading a fic centered around the pandemic? Me neither, but this one and its sequel work so well and have very compelling bits of characterization for the boys. Unexpected premise, but I utterly loved it.

straw house, straw dog by caelam (T) | 3rd sem | gen | one shot "In the saccharine utopia of Maruki’s reality, Goro Akechi’s mother is still alive." I admittedly don't read too many fics with mamakechi so I won't claim to be an expert, but this one really left me impressed with how clear and tangible the tangle of feelings is.

Knight of Pentacles, King of Spades by Naometry (M) | Medieval AU | shuakeshu | 11 chapters "“Hifumi passed on your greetings,” Akira Kurusu says, fury simmering beneath his conversational tone. “And I’m polite enough to give you my own in person. So greetings, General Goro Akechi. I am the man who will kill you.”" I started reading this fic for the war captive trope but this story has so much more to it than just that. Nao's superb skill with writing violence and viciousness will have you thrust into a cruel world where two boys seem to be bound to kill each other... unless?

Ripples by Riona (T) | gen | canon compliant | one shot "Ten people know exactly who the news is talking about, and now they’re going to have to deal with that." A peek into the heads of 10 of Joker's confidants upon learning about his death. The fic I would never imagined myself reading, but I did because it was recced to me, and now I'm recc'ing it to you, too.

When Your Eyes Meet Mine by seths_dream (E) | no powers AU | shuake | one shot "The way the bellboy lingered on him made his heart jolt, made him think that maybe, maybe the bellboy was looking at Goro the same way Goro was looking at him." I've lost count of how many times I read this fic because the horny is just so juicy, it's unironically one of the fics I come back to when I need to remind myself how to write horny stuff. (the same author also wrote this delicious pegoryu that you have to read)

a study in what not to say by succubused (T) | 3rd sem | shuake | one shot "Akira has finally had enough of Akechi's bullshit; they resolve it the only ways they know how." If you like the boys being really nasty to each other, this fic is a must. It has excellent dialogue, dynamics, and a tad of homoerotic wound tending which can't hurt no one!

MY ALL-TIME FAVOURITES The fics that rewired my brain chemistry, took my heart out, slapped it, put it back, and left me a whole new person.

27 steps to seduce a crow by relationshipcrimes (G) | Royal | shuakeshu | one shot "A handy bullet-pointed list on how to flirt with, seduce, and keep your local Akechi Goro." Still to this day, I think of this fic in terms of Goro's characterization. If I have a thing for post-canon shuake chasing each other, it's probably due to this one.

The Brigverse by TzviaAriella (E but most works are M) | Pirates AU | akeshuake | series, ongoing I admittedly don't care that much about pirates but the og fic from this series (A Brig Too Far) was being passed on so much that I gave it a try and. Oh boy. Not only is the characterization impeccable, the story compelling, and the action thrilling, but at least one scene and/or line from each work in this series has altered my brain permanently. I am a new person after reading Brigverse.

wild and free by bangandawhimper (E) | a/b/o | shuakeshu | one shot "Akira Kurusu hasn’t always been an omega. But now everyone he meets in this city assumes he’s an omega. He’s treated like an omega. He feels like an omega. He knows he feels like an omega because he remembers what it was to be an alpha." This work might have my favourite take ever on shuakeshu omegaverse, it's so fitting for them, so thought out, and the characterization is so on point... my god. Read this fic now.

The Diamond Chest by kinneas (E) | post-Royal | shuakeshu | 3 chapters, complete "Who says you have to see Morgana speak in the Metaverse before you can hear him in the real world? Not the few hundred officers who arrested Ren in Sae’s Palace two years ago, that’s for sure." Honestly everything kinnes writes is gold but I'm shouting this fic out because I reread more than a few scenes from this fic more than once, and it's a 100k-words baby. I am a sucker for heist stories, I am a sucker for dealing with trauma in very tangible ways, and I'm a sucker for kinneas' characterization of the boys.

before midnight by specterthief (Not rated) | 3rd sem, canon compliant | gen | one shot "“I—” Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Sumire sets down her chopsticks and rubs her face with both hands. “Um—who told you I was going to training camp?” (On January 9th, Sumire goes home.)" This is the stellar Sumire characterization fic you're looking for. Read this. Read this right now.

I HOPE THIS DOESN'T AWAKEN SOMETHING IN ME (DELUSIONAL) I clicked on these fics solely due to my trust in the authors/the summary/one rec and now I find myself with a new kink. Thanks.

Containment Breach by salexectria (E) | Space pirates AU | akeshu | one shot Akira gets stranded on an abandoned spaceship seemingly infested by a terrifying creature. He finds the lonely survivor of the crew and they begrudgingly start to work together to contact help and survive. I am just going to say that I clicked for salex's name, I stayed for the stellar characterization, pining and top-tier bantering, and got overwhelmed by the tentacle sex. (/pos)

it takes two by lumensd (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | two-shots By all means, this series has some things I usually am not interested in (phone sex, degradation) but Jay is so skilled and his akeshus are so fucked in the head that now I've signed up for the masochist Joker agenda. Hurray!

i dream of you draped in wires by rime (E) | 3rd sem | akeshu | one shot "Maruki's Shadows don't want to fight; they just want to collect data. Wait, are those cat ears?" You would think a work with the tag "catboy shibari gunplay fuckordie" can't be too serious. Wrong! Excellent character study attack 🔪🔪🔪 (from the same author there's also this P5 vanilla fic that is excellent)

Darken my doorway by EnlacingLines (E) | 3rd sem-post canon | akeshu | one shot ""I don’t need to test my theory. You should be thanking me, really. Opening this door for you.” “A door to what?” Akira says, exasperated by just how self congratulatory Goro still sounds.“ Submission.” Or: I am a firm switch shuake shipper, I don't vibe with too-extreme dynamics *proceeds to go ballistics over this fic regardless*, *awakens to the wonder of d/s a lil fucked up dynamics*