#regular classroom was much worse

[the-overthinktank]

I feel like part of autistic infighting is that the term encompasses such a huge range of disability, symptoms, and experiences that advocacy often struggles to be inclusive without becoming so unspecific it's toothless. On one hand high vs low functioning is a false dichotomy, on the other hand someone who was has severe difficulty communicating and motor disabilities has obviously had very different experiences from someone who found out later in life and can mask

[queerstudiesnatural]

doesn't happen often but my students were really annoying today i'm a little pissed rn. usually after i've seen my kids i feel better but they were all really ughhhh today

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With each email written and received, you and Bradley are both aching for more details. While he's thinking about plans for a first date, you get apprehensive, knowing you're going to be devastated when he returns to wherever he calls home after a few days of leave. If the two of you had an opportunity to speak more intimately, there's a chance the details could fall into place.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley being hot

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

After much consideration on the matter, you sat down at home that evening with your phone and started to type up a response to Bradley. He wanted to know in an overabundance of detail how you'd feel if he asked to cancel your dinner reservation and chill with takeout instead? You weren't quite sure what he was getting at, and it felt a little bit like he had given you another assignment to work on, but you were planning on being completely transparent with him. 

Once again, the ease with which you and he communicated, even through the written word alone, was something that made you a little dizzy. A little needy. Bradley had better communication skills and paid you more attention than half of the men you'd dated, and he wasn't even in the same time zone as you.

Bradley,

We got the package you sent. My kids went wild over their personalized notes, as per usual. You've reached full celebrity status in my classroom. We'll be working on sending some notes back to you in the next few days, so brace yourself.

Please remember that you asked me for an abundance of detail here... What would I do if you wanted to change plans? Wanted to spend a quiet evening hanging out at your place instead of going out? In an extreme effort to sound as cool as possible right now... just thinking about this is making me feel warm enough that I need to take a lap around my apartment. I guess first of all, I would tell you that as far as takeout is concerned, I love Thai food the most. I'm not very picky though, so even a generic pizza and some beer would more than suffice. 

If you said you were tired from work and still wanted to hang out, I wouldn't be too pressed about the details. I would be perhaps a little giddy that you missed me enough to want me around. I'd offer to pick up dinner on my way. I would let you choose the movie. I wouldn't even be upset if you fell asleep. In fact I'd probably just cover you with a blanket and let you doze. There is perhaps no worse feeling than forcing yourself to go out when you just really don't want to. And right now nothing sounds better to me than watching a movie with you on your couch. But I have to know... if you're 6'1", are you too tall to stretch out there comfortably? Where would I end up? Would we be touching? Please reply with an abundance of detail. 

I know this scenario is purely hypothetical, but it does sound pretty perfect. I'll be thinking about splitting some Thai curry with you on your couch for a long time. Maybe during those couple days of leave when you get back to San Diego, we could meet? I think I would like that, even if you just have one day before you have to get back to your regular routine. And now I need to take another lap around my apartment.

One last thing. The aviator who took my photo on the beach was a woman, but I appreciate your response. I can't guarantee I'll stay off the beach, but I can guarantee that I'll give a guy a chance. Also, what does a girl have to do around here to get a dreamy sunset photo of you? 

Once again, hitting send before I can change my mind.

You took another lap around your apartment, even going so far as to walk around the block before it got too dark outside. Thai food and Bradley Bradshaw and a movie on his couch. There was a loop playing in your mind where he leaned in and kissed you before calling you 'Gorgeous Girl' and reaching for your hand.

"Why are you torturing yourself like this?" you moaned out loud when you walked back inside all flushed with desire. You took a long bath. You made some sleepy time tea. You sat on your couch with your notebook and worked on lesson plans until it was pretty late, but you weren't tired at all.

Frustrated that you were letting this man take over so much of your brain, you went to your bedroom and plugged your phone in for the night. And that's when you heard the familiar ping, alerting you to the fact that you had a new email.

"No way," you gasped when you looked at the screen. You'd just send him a response two hours ago, and Bradley had already written back. You flopped down onto your bed, wrenching your phone back from the charger as you started to read.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Your answer was enlightening, thank you. Relieved to hear you wouldn't pout about missing the dinner reservation. I love Thai food, but I would absolutely insist on grabbing the takeout and having you pick the movie (nothing with scary spiders, please). 

I actually don't really fit on my couch too well at all. If I really stretch out, my feet dangle over the arm, and there wouldn't be much room left for you, too. Would we be touching? God, I hope so. Where would you end up? I'm blushing just thinking about the possibilities. 

You asked for details? Well, I'd ask for permission. If you gave me permission to touch you, we'd be holding hands. If you gave me permission for more than that, then you'd be covering both of us with a blanket, and I'd be holding you a lot closer. I don't think I should provide further details on that right now, actually. Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head.

If you're feeling generous enough to give me a chance, then I'm feeling generous enough to send you a sunset photo. But frankly a girl like you isn't going to have to do much at all to get whatever she wants. Next decent sunset around here is all for you.

Your Truly,

Bradley

Well, you may never sleep again. You read his email twice before pulling up the photo of him in front of his jet, and your mind started to wander as you looked at his face. No, you'd never sleep again.

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

Bradley felt pretty ridiculous. He'd never taken so many photos of himself before in his life. Snapping a few for your class while in his cockpit with all of his gear on was one thing, but trying to get a flattering one of his face with the sun setting in the middle of the ocean was something else entirely. He was alone in a deserted part of the deck, thankful nobody else could see him. 

"Maybe she won't notice if I'm not in it," he muttered as he snapped one of the setting sun. The sky was glowing a deep orange, and the clouds moving in made everything look even dreamier. He started thinking about you and the fact that you said you were going to give him a chance. The details weren't important. He'd work that part out. When he got back to San Diego, he was going to see if you and he were as compatible in person as you were right now. But the remainder of his deployment was the one thing that was preventing that from happening immediately, and you did ask him for a photo of himself. If you really wanted it, he'd make sure you had it.

He had never been so stressed out about his scars in his adult life before right now. The best photo he took of himself was one where they looked a little more prominent. He'd sleep on it tonight and consider if he wanted to send it or a different one. Usually he didn't care at all. He supposed that in person, women would either talk to him or not, depending upon if they were bothered by the way he looked or not. But you weren't with him in person, and the more detailed the photos were, the more likely you were to dwell on his face now. He really wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

After grabbing an inspired dinner alone in the mess hall, he thought about eating spicy Thai curry on his couch while you and he argued playfully about which movie to watch. Then he thought about you sitting on his lap and maybe even touching his scars which he hoped you wouldn't be bothered by. Then, as he changed to head to the gym, he imagined all the things he thought about but didn't tell you. Like pulling you onto his lap or stretching out on his couch with you lying mostly on top of him. His hand would find a nice resting spot on your back, or maybe even a little lower. His lips would eventually find yours, and the movie would become a distant memory in his mind.

"Shit." Now he was the one who needed to walk a lap before he could even go to the gym. He was already sweating by the time he got there, making it his continued mission to avoid the married woman while he listened to his playlist. He did a few extra reps, knowing you were on dry land in San Diego and wanting to make sure he looked as good as possible. Maybe he could make up for the close up photo of his face with his body.

Without sleeping on it, Bradley went back to the lounge and logged in. He sent you the best photo of the bunch along with two sentences.

Thinking of you, Gorgeous. Tell me about your week.

But he didn't hear back from you right away, and it wasn't for lack of checking his inbox. He hoped you and your students were working their way through the last batch of notes that he'd mailed. Or maybe you were busy and tired from taking them on a field trip. He was hoping there was a reason other than you not liking his bad selfie that meant he didn't get a response. 

Luckily he got busy over the weekend so he didn't have to think about it as much. Each time he climbed that ladder up to his cockpit and waited patiently for his jet to launch from the carrier deck, he took a few seconds to clear his mind and make sure he was focused on the right thing. He needed to survive this deployment so he could even potentially allow his thoughts to go further with you later.

When he made his way back to the lounge after dinner and a shower on Sunday night, he definitely got more in his inbox than he was hoping for. And not in a good way. There was a new message from you, but it was sitting right beneath a second, newer message. From Vanessa.

"What the fuck?" Bradley asked himself, loud enough that the guy next to him turned and glanced his way. It had been months since they'd spoken. Literally fucking months, and she was emailing him now? "No." Sudden panic started to boil to the surface as he quickly tried to click on it, now terrified about what she could be contacting him in regards to.

Hi,

I'm only writing to you because I have a bit of an issue that I need your help dealing with. I can't find my favorite water bottle anywhere. I think it's in your kitchen cabinet, and I just started at a new gym, so I really need it. Let me know how I can get into your house to retrieve it. And please don't take forever to respond to this like you usually do. Like I said, I really need it.

Vanessa

It was a joke. It must be. Bradley double checked the email address to make sure he wasn't being pranked by Nat or somebody else, but no, it was really from Vanessa. 

"A fucking water bottle?" he muttered. He couldn't even picture what she was talking about. Unless it was that ugly, oversized pink thing she used to carry around with her everywhere? The one with the big handle that he joked could double as a weapon? That thing?

What the fuck. He wrote back to her before he even bothered to open the email from you.

Vanessa, it's a water bottle. And it's already been months. Can't this wait until I'm home?

He hit send, rolled his shoulders and took a few deep breaths. He could archive her message so he didn't have to see it again, and he'd just deal with her bullshit later. He would read what you had to say instead, and hopefully it would cheer him up. But after he stood and stretched for a minute and sat back down, there was already a new response from Vanessa waiting for him.

"What the actual hell?" he grunted. He didn't even know what time it was at home, and he didn't take the few seconds to do the math as he started to read.

No, Bradley. I can't wait. It's a $65 sustainable, dual temperature, leak proof water bottle in a limited edition color. And I would like it back. I tried to find a replacement online, but I do not want a potentially used water bottle. Please advise.

He sat there with his fists clenched and his jaw set tight. He literally could not believe her. Anyone else would just use a different water bottle like a normal person, but he knew she'd be on his ass nonstop about this now. The fact that he was going to have to explain this situation to Nat and beg her to go over there with his spare key was almost laughable. He'd probably owe her two steak dinners if he asked her to deal with his ex girlfriend, because she never could stomach Vanessa. 

He sent Nat a quick email anyway with Vanessa's phone number which he had to look up in his phone, begging her to take care of this for him. It would be worth the price of two dinners at this point. Then he settled back in his seat and tapped on your beautiful name, letting the monitor fill up with your words. When he started reading, he forgot he was supposed to feel nervous at what you sent back in response to the close up selfie.

Bradley,

Wow. I didn't think things could improve after the photo of you with your jet and the video where you're speaking. But I was wrong. So wrong. And I'm not upset about it. You're very handsome. The sunset looks okay, too. Now you're the one messing with my head.

I'm sorry I didn't write back immediately, but you should know that your hot photo has taken up residence in my mind. My week involved three of my students getting sick with the flu as well as a bunch of parent/teacher conferences, and tonight I'm really tired. The idea of snuggling, or more, with you on your couch has been playing on loop. I'm giving you permission to hold my hand if we ever meet in person. You have very nice looking hands. You have a very nice looking everything. Would you mind me asking how old you are?

Right, well, we mailed another box back to you on Friday afternoon. My kids asked me to project a photo of a Super Hornet onto the wall so they could have a drawing contest. I finally caved and let them, and they want you to be the judge. And once again, you'll have eighteen individual letters to read. Nineteen if you include the one I put in the box.

On that note, I'm going to take a bath and snuggle up in bed. And you can't blame a girl for looking at that photo again.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal 

Now this was the kind of thing he wanted in his inbox, not questions about missing water bottles. Bradley hit reply immediately, happy that you hadn't even mentioned his scars. You thought he was handsome in the close up picture? He always figured he was okay enough looking that his height and build made women say he was attractive. But you actually called him handsome. He started typing back to you, already feeling so much better.

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

After resting all weekend, you were definitely feeling better. You loved your students, but sometimes dealing with their parents was more than you bargained for. Adults were often worse than kids when it came to complaining and exercising patience. All of the conferences from last week were a thing of the past now, but you still felt a little bad for taking so long to write back to Bradley. Especially after he sent you that photo.

Maybe you felt like you had to reel it in a little bit. What was the most that was going to happen? He'd agree to meet you during his short leave in San Diego? Maybe you'd go out on a date? It would probably be the best date of your life. It might even turn out to be the best night of your life. And then he'd leave for another station with the Navy, or maybe he'd return back home, leaving you feeling even lonelier than you did before you inadvertently mailed him that first box.

It was a good thing you had your students to take your mind off things on Monday morning. 

"Are we going to talk about aviation now or after lunch?" Violet asked as she unpacked her pencil box.

You took a deep breath and said, "We're actually going to start a unit on Natural History today." Eighteen pairs of eyes stared at you like you'd completely lost your mind. "It'll be great!"

Oliver's hand rocketed into the air. "Does Lieutenant Bradley also know stuff about Natural History? Is that what we're going to write to him about now?"

Great. Your students were just as attached as you were. "Well since our aviation unit is going to be tapering off, we probably won't need to be writing to him as much now."

"What?" gasped Jayden. 

"No way," complained Nia. 

After that, you tried to move along with your lesson plans, but the entire class just sat there quietly, barely engaged with what you were saying. And perhaps part of it was your fault, because you didn't really feel like teaching this after all. By the time lunch and recess arrived, you felt defeated. You sat quietly at your desk in your empty classroom while your kids played outside, and you ate your lunch while you checked your phone. Bradley had written back an hour ago. Even if you wanted to wait until later to read it, you wouldn't have been able to.

Hey, Gorgeous,

That note from you made my day. I can't wait for the new letters from the kids to arrive so I can spend my evenings writing back instead of absolutely living in the gym right now. You want me to judge a drawing contest? Bring it on. I'm so ready.

I'll tell you how old I am. I wasn't expecting to be so nervous about it, though. I'm thirty-six. You definitely look younger than that. I know it's never appropriate to ask a woman how old she is, so maybe you'll offer that number up without me asking? And maybe you'll tell me that I'm still within the age range of men you let email you regularly? Please?

Not gonna lie, taking a hot bath sounds amazing right now. And snuggling up in something bigger than an extra long twin bed would be heavenly. And thinking about you doing either of those things is enough to get me through the week with a smile on my face. Maybe even through the rest of the month. Maybe even to the point where I'm in San Diego. You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?

I'll be waiting for more air mail and another email.

Yours Truly,

Bradley Bradshaw

"Damn it," you groaned, melting back into your desk chair and shoving a cracker into your mouth. Even if meeting him was going to be a one-off, you still wanted to do this. You still wanted to write back to him and flirt and listen to his voice in the video he sent for your class with Marty the mechanic. You wanted to think about him working out on the aircraft carrier. You still wanted him to call you Gorgeous. You'd write back tonight.

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

Bradley was taking another video and some more photos in the shop with Marty for your class when one of the admirals stopped by. He jumped to attention and addressed him. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw, you haven't put in for a phone call. Would you like to?"

Bradley just blinked at him for a few seconds. "I don't really have anyone to call, Sir." But that wasn't completely true. He'd never actually asked you about it, but he wouldn't mind calling your number. Which he didn't even have.

The admiral nodded and said, "Just giving first dibs to my high rankers who haven't made a call home yet. Otherwise you're dismissed, Lieutenant."

As soon as he started to walk away, Bradley found himself following along. "Actually, Sir, I may have changed my mind."

If he was already thinking about Thai food and a picnic on the beach for a first date, he might as well just ask you for your number now. As long as you didn't tell him his age was an issue. As long as you seemed keen on the idea of him calling. So he put his name down on the list, and then he started to sweat. He finished up with Marty, and he headed for the lounge.

When he logged in, he braced himself for another note from Vanessa like he always did now, but the only new item he saw was from you. He decided right then that if the vibes still felt right, he'd ask for permission to call you. And yeah, the vibes were feeling pretty fucking good. 

As soon as he opened the email, the attached photo at the bottom pulled his gaze in like a beacon. You were in bed, mostly under the covers, and the thin straps of some sort of tank top were the only thing preventing him from having a completely unobstructed view of both of your shoulders. Your skin looked impossibly soft, too perfect for him to touch with his rough hands, and your expression was playful and maybe a little nervous. He could see the soft swell of your breasts before the blankets enveloped your body in the most comfortable looking cocoon. He wanted to join you there in the worst way, and keep you warm enough that you wouldn't even need that blanket.

His heart was pounding as he started to read your note.

Bradley,

You know, it's funny you should mention that, because my currently inactive dating app profile says I'm interested in men who are between 30 and 40 years old. So you sound kind of perfect to me. And not that you asked or anything, but I turned 30 earlier this year. I hope that's within the age range of women that you let email you regularly.

I'm writing this from my bed. I have attached a photo. I'm not wearing any makeup, and I'm all snuggled in for the night, and of course I'm thinking about you. Whether it's a good idea or not, I find myself frequently thinking about you.

Your favorite pen pal

He scrolled back to the photo and sighed. Oh, he knew it was a good idea. Maybe you just needed a little bit more convincing, but it was definitely a great idea. That first date was looking better and better in his mind. He wished he could give you an estimate on when he'd be home so the two of you could start planning it. Bradley's stomach was growling for dinner as he pried his eyes away from your photo long enough to type out a message.

Hey, Gorgeous,

You're the only woman I'm going to let email me regularly. And I was right. You do look adorable snuggled up in your bed. That photo is going to keep me up at night wondering how cute you'd look in mine...

It looks like I'll have the opportunity to make a phone call soon, and I'd love to hear your voice. If you want to talk. I can't guarantee I won't sound like an idiot, tripping over my words the whole time, but hey, a guy can dream. Will you let me have your phone number?

Yours Truly,

Bradley

And now, once again, he would wait for you to respond, hoping his luck wasn't about to run out.

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

A phone call! She him your number immediately, Gorgeous! There are some things you need to hear him say in that raspy, sexy voice! Thank you @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞! | genshin males x gn!reader

「 "𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!"」

— in which you give him chocolates before he attempts to give you his??

— fluff. highschool!au but built like a shoujo manga lmao ... happy valentine's day ~ ♡ another fic will be going out tomorrow :)

THOMA, albedo, ayato, alhaitham, childe, KAVEH, HEIZOU, VENTI, GAMING, CHONGYUN, KAZUHA, wriothesley, tighnari, freminet, lyney ♡

Calling yourself a "romantic" person would be quite a stretch.

Saying Valentine's was your favorite day of the year would be even worse.

Sure, sure, you'd heard plenty of things, from the nagging old man manning the grocery store, always red in the face from regular swigs of cheap liquor, or the seemingly never endless musings from your classmates, swooning and fainting every moment anyone, or more specifically, the leads starring in those dramas of theirs, did anything remotely affectionate.

Young, innocent love, while a splendid thing, for someone like you, your really only option was to endlessly pine after someone who would certainly not return your affections.

The recipient of such foolish affections? That much was obvious. What a rather hopeless person, you were.

At the very least, he seemed to enjoy your presence. A smile would adorn his lips, and he'd always meet your gaze with his familiar greeting of, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Fuck, you hated how such a simple line, questioning of your wellbeing, could tug at your heartstrings so effortlessly. The man was playing you like a fiddle, and a part of you didn't try to resist that.

So the moment February 14th rolled itself around, bearing promises of youthful laughter, baby cupids, hearts, and sweets, you tried not to pay heed to the extra weight of chocolates in your school bag.

Had you stayed up late making them just the right sweetness, making sure they were perfectly heart-shaped?

Yes. As stated previously, you were truly hopeless.

"Ah, good morning." Wow, look at you, taking the initiative to greet someone? Truly, a day of magic and wonder! You're almost jump scared at the sight of him in your classroom, just what the fuck was he doing here? He leaned against the doorway, looking terribly pretty in the morning lighting.

This was not doing wonders to your heart.

Upon seeing you, he straightened his posture, looking suspiciously sheepish with an extra non-characteristic, flusteredness on his features. "You're here early today."

"It's Valentine's." That's all you managed to sputter out with that tied tongue of yours.

"Yes, and?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, not entirely convinced, and followed you to your seat like some sort of lost puppy.

Your brain raced to find a rationale he'd deem reasonable. "Uhm, ah... my friend... is planning to confess to a guy, so I had to come early and help her... set up the place she's planning to do so at?"

"I see... ah," His eyes lit up like he had thought of something. "Are you free after school? We should meet up afterward, so you can tell me how it went...?"

"Yes!" You responded a little too quickly, and cussing yourself out in you head, you corrected it. "Ahem- yes, I'd like that." The burning feeling that arose on your face was starting to become too prominent to ignore.

He didn't seem to pay it any mind, and instead beamed in a close-eyed smile. "Perfect. Then, I'll see you?" You were to bid him goodbye, but he ran off before you could even utter a sound, leaving you rather dumbfounded, blank-faced and still feeling the tingling warmth on your cheeks.

Holy shit, is this my chance?? You’d made chocolates on the eensiest, weensiest off chance that you might grow bold enough to hand it to him, even if under the pretense of “as friends”, but with the violent way your heart was pounding in your chest, you didn’t think avoidance would be an option.

Ahaha, you were making a mistake, weren’t you?

Only one way to find out.

The rest of the day went by as predicted. Fanatic screams and a wave of crazed people chasing after the more popular figures of the school, throwing boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses... hey, wasn't this a safety hazard? There were other screams too - but not of excitement, but terror as a man was crushed and trampled under a wave of love-sick girls chasing after the popular boy in class 2-A.

You just hoped that he wouldn't sue the school. The place was already cutting enough corners when it came to the monstrosity of cafeteria food.

The bell rang, signaling your freedom, and you massaged your shoulders with a sigh. You'd survived, somehow. As you stepped out the door, a ding from your phone alerted you with a text, and as you lit up the screen, the corner of your lips unconsciously turned upwards into a soft smile.

hot guy <3 - don't forget.

hot guy <3 - ill be waiting for you

Stepping into his classroom, you scanned your surroundings for the familiar sight of the man. Low and behold, there he was, sat upon, presumably, his desk, and staring out the window like some main character. You walked over, trying your best to disregard the clamminess of your fingers - or more specifically, the hand that was holding your homemade chocolates hidden safely(?) away behind your back. His features brightened at the sight of you, and he swung his legs, ushering you over to share the view with him.

"Sorry, did you wait long?" You sheepishly grinned as he scooted to the side to give you space to sit down next to him. As you did so, you were made painfully aware of how his body was still pressed up against yours. “I almost got trampled on my way here, not a pretty sight.”

“...Pretty sight?” He echoed his words, tilting his head as he pondered, the slightest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “You?”

“W-What? No, I-” You cleared your throat before he could say another word, trying to dispel the blush on your features. Naturally, you failed to do so. “What kind of things are you saying now? Just who’d you learn that from?”

“Haa? What do you mean, learned? I just said the truth, that’s all…”

God, he was so adorable. This man had definitely run off with your heart.

Now or never, you supposed. Standing upwards abruptly, you pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’d been hiding behind your back the entire time, visibly trembling as you held it outwards.

“Will you be my valentine?”

It took him the count of three to respond, his eyes round and doe-like. He blinked rapidly, and then his cheeks flushed - not with his usual cheeriness, but a red that definitely spoke of flusteredness. “H-Hey, that's no fair…”

“...What?” Damn, was this your rejection? You had expected as much, but-

“I was supposed to give you chocolates first, y’know…”

And just like that, the familiar boy before you reached beside him into the darkly lit space and pulled out his own box of chocolates, lightly colored and wrapped beautifully in shimmering golden ribbon. “It took me so long to do this, and yet…”

“Holyfuckingshitwhat.” The curses flew from your mouth, condensed into a single word. “W- H- Y-You… You got chocolates for me?”

Now this was a first. Seeing his cheeks and tips of his ears all rosy, and seeing him all kicked-puppy-like. He nodded slowly, “Mhm… But, this is good too!”

He likes me.

He likes me.

He likes me.

Hoooooly shit.

“Ah, oh no, I didn’t give you an answer, did I?” His usually soft eyes now filled with panic. “Don't tell me I'm too late, I’ll be your valentine!”

The chocolates, surely, would be sweet. But the sensation of your lips meeting his, the undeniable warmth he bestowed upon you — it was sweeter than anything. ♡

(a/n) lmao guess what. i got sick again. i was sick last month and i mfucking sick and dying again and the only thing saving me is shitty couhg medicine that doesn't even work and like expired coughdrops my couhgdrop supply is running low and oh god i don't THINK IM GOINNA MAKE IT-

hahah anyways remember when i said id come back. well . guess what. ive been working on original works for a while now, but the delulu has indeed returned ( for longer than a week this time, hopefully )

i did work on some stuff during my inactivity! the post will probably be out tomorrow, but please don't be upset if i push the date back :)

anyways whipped up this quick drabble so all of you could be well fed on valentines. remember that its okay to be single on this day, and that there are plenty of other people out there like you. there is no shame in being single, and i love every one of you ! mwah <33

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori

[losing-it-lately]

I Crumble Completely When You Cry

wc: 2k

eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

angst with a happy ending, best friends to enemies to lovers, regular upside down stuff, inspired by this one line in 505 by the arctic monkeys

You aren't dating him. You aren't friends with him. You both don't "talk". Eddie knows all of these things are true, he knows all of these things form the basis of your's and Eddie's relationship- if it can even be called that. But it's not enough. It's not enough to hold him back from you or to suppress that gnawing pit in his stomach or to stop old habits from coming back from the dead. He shouldn't have said that, but what's worse is he shouldn't have done what he did after.

Eddie remembers everything that happened between you two. Everything that went down exists in perfect clarity as if it replays over and over in his mind. And in a way, it does, he hasn't stopped thinking of what happened between you two ever since. And you haven't either.

Eddie would say that what happened started a month or two into the school year- when you finally got into cheer and had gotten through to the team. Wayne would say that what happened started right after Will Byers had been found. Steve Harrington would say that it started when Will was proclaimed missing, but you had always known that what happened between you and Eddie didn't start that year, but was bound to happen from the first day you had met him.

You had always known Eddie. Ever since he had moved into Hawkins, the small and buzzed boy had been on your radar. More than just your radar actually, you had grown the biggest crush on him. He was tall and lanky and unruly and silly and everything that made you grin in the schoolgirl type of way that you did when you got a new crush. Eddie was sweet and you did as much to look after him as possible. Leaving snacks on his desk when you noticed that he didn't bring lunch often, or conveniently losing a pen in the back of the classroom when he had forgotten one or even stopping close family friends like Steve from picking on him; you had looked out for Eddie as long as you had known him, it was bound to happen even when you got older.

At some point, you assumed that your crush would disappear or die out, and then everything would return to normal, but in the midst of Hawkins Middle School was the annual talent show, which changed it all. Eddie was obviously going to apply with his new band, a small group of tweens that he had collected from grades younger than him. However, as he began filling out the form, he hit a dead end. Eddie needed a name, and he needed one quickly. This was the last day to sign up and the members of the council in charge were clearly fed up with him waiting and stalling with the form. Eddie was freaking out. Him and his friends had done so much practice, and now, when he was practically finished, he could feel it all crumble in front of him. And then you walked by.

"Are you ok, Eddie?" He wasn't, and you were ready to do whatever you could to fix it.

As he explained his problem, you searched through your bag. English had just finished last period, surely you still had your dictionary.

Finally, you lugged out the large hard cover and began searching for a word to compliment 'coffin'; scanning through the 'co' page and reading out words until Eddie got you to stop.

"Corroded Coffin! That's it!" His grin was so bright, you couldn't help but mirror it, and you knew in that moment that you would be taking care of Eddie Munson for as long as you could, no matter what it took.

And that's how you saw it, especially after November of 1984. You had just started cheer, Eddie had started a Dungeons and Dragons Club that you frequented every Thursday and your grades were falling right into place. Life felt perfect in a way, and then Will Byers went missing. And you spent too much time helping Jonathan Byers. And then you got wrapped up into a government conspiracy.

You were in danger. White vans of men circling around you and the kids you looked after, every single communication monitored and the constant threat of something worse than mankind. It was an easy decision- you had to get Eddie away from all of this.

Will may have been back, but gates still opened, and the labs still checked on you, and you had nightmares and scars that you couldn't explain to Eddie without getting him involved. So you did what had to be done. Late December, after having ignored and avoided Eddie for what felt like forever, you cut him off.

It was a second nature to find Eddie in the midst of the trees and shrubbery behind Hawkins high. At his table, playing lazily with the old wooden planks and graffiti-ing more song lyrics and initials onto the bench where he sat. Eddie looked bored and desolate as you made your way towards him. Your nerves were working overtime and your eyes were bloodshot from the many nights without sleep, and while the pep talk from Steve helped, it wasn't enough to stop your hands from fidgeting and smoothing down the top of your uniform. Your uniform needed to be on for this to work, and the only way this would work was if Eddie bought it, if Eddie hated you.

The wind rustled through your hair and the leaves crumbled under you, one making a particularly perfect sound that alerted Eddie of your presence. As soon as he recognised you, a wide grin split on his face, the same one you had always known and the one you were about to begin to miss. You almost returned it too, the reflex being nearly too natural to bypass.

As he got up to hug you for the first time in a while, you began to speak. "I don't think we should be friends anymore," surely, if you were straightforward and neutral, this would be easier for the both of you?

"What?" His voice was small and shocked and soft. "What do you me-"

"I can't be friends with someone like you. You're a freak and I'm changing for the better." Your eyes began to gloss over. You felt dirty and cheap, using things that Eddie had told you during quiet nights over against him. How could the right thing feel so wrong?

"What are you saying," he began to laugh with a dry and quiet disbelief. Something must have been wrong, and in retrospect, Eddie would be able to see that, but for now, the sting of betrayal was enough for him to egg you on.

"You can't keep calling me, or talking to me, or even looking at me, Eddie," the tears were falling now, and your cheer jacket wasn't enough to shield you from that look in Eddie's eyes. It was one of pain and confusion and it was something you had never seen before. "I have a new life now."

And then his eyes changed and what you saw became worse. Frozen over, his eyes had become blank and lifeless, it was as if he couldn't recognise you anymore, and the truth was, you didn't recognise yourself either. But you needed to do this, to protect him.

"Fine. Fuck you," and so you left. You turned your back on Eddie and to him, you never looked back. You walked away all self-righteous and whatever and you broke his heart. Eddie Munson loved you and hated you. That's not true, Eddie Munson loves you, and he has to deal with the fact that you want nothing to do with him. For so long, he was overjoyed with just having your presence as platonic, but he should have prepared for not having it at all.

And you. Walking away with your back turned as if it wasn't harder than fighting those stupid demogorgons. Muffling your own sobs like you had when you were hiding with the kids in a random laboratory in Hawkins Middle School. Running faster to Steve's car once you had reached the Hawkins High Parking lot than you had when being chased by those special agents. Turning away from Eddie was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you had survived it, just barely.

You had made the right decision too. Closing the gate and shutting downs Hawkins Lab was one thing, and then the Russians re-opened the gate and brought out a fleshy nightmare to fight. Finally, it was all over.

The Government monitored you for a few more months, made you sign a massive NDA and transferred the largest sum of money that you had ever seen into your bank account. So you signed up for a job at the Family Video, covered your community college fees and bought a trailer in Forest Hills. You didn't mean to, but now you were living next to Eddie.

It had been years, it must be safe now to make amends. Eddie may not love you like you love him, but at least, you both could be amicable neighbours. You could see him putting out the trash and get a small and courteous smile. It wouldn't be like what you had before, but you could be content. So you baked him some cookies. His favourites had always been the brownie and chocolate chip chunk hybrid you made for his birthday. Your hand had a small burn and you cut yourself when you were cutting the chocolate, but you couldn't feel any of the pain when you saw him take the first bite of the cookie.

And so you did. You baked them and brought a warm batch over to Eddie's. You knocked after Wayne left and waited until a disgruntled Eddie opened the door. His hair was tied up in a bun and his eyes had circles and he wasn't wearing a shirt- he had definitely grown since the last time you had spoken.

"Hey," you started with a developing unease in your voice. How can you do this successfully? "I'm your new neighbour." You offered him the tray of cookies with a small smile as his eyes narrowed down into yours.

After years of ignorance and silence on your end, cookies were the solution. Bitterness and anger took the wheel and Eddie reached for tray and dumped them onto the porch. "You need to leave right now." His voice had hardened into something deep and furious and once again, you were taken back to the late December afternoon. But this time, Eddie noticed your foggy eyes, clouded over with a fresh onslaught of tears.

Your gaze was lowered to the cookies you had spent so long slaving over in the Hawkins heat. Crumbs were on your nice shoes and the chocolate was beginning to melt into the 'welcome home' mat. The trailer was a home for you. You kept falling into your thoughts, waiting for Eddie to slam the door in front of you, fuelled by his disappointment or his distaste or his detest, but it never came. Instead a calloused hand cradled your face.

You used to hold Eddie like this when he would cry, both hands holding up his face so that you could wipe the tears off, but Eddie had just realised that he had never done it back for you. He began to quietly hum and whisper, "sorry". His face had reformed into something less harsh, because under all the anger, he still missed you.

Once your eyes finally met, Eddie remembered what had happened between you, and his hands dropped. He shouldn't have said that or destroyed your cookies or held your face, but old habits die hard. Three or four years and Eddie still couldn't forget you. You cry once, and his whole resolve crumbled. You don't know about the ballads that he's written for you or campaigns in which you still make an appearance. You don't know that Eddie lied to Hellfire, saying he made you leave and you don't know that he moved Hellfire to Fridays to make sure that you could never come back without ditching cheer. You don't know how many times Eddie has thought about you in his arms, your face in his hands and you don't know about all the things he has done for you.

And now, you are so close, Eddie doesn't know what to do. You wipe your eyes. Your cheeks still burn from embarrassment and desire, you want him to hold you so delicately again.

"Can I come inside? I need to tell you about November of 1984." He opens the door wider to make space for you to enter. He needs to tell you that he's been in love with you since longer than that.

send me an ask if you want me to add onto this or make anything clear and reblog if you enjoyed this story! lots of love xxx

[tearsofcalamity]

handsy

⊹ character(s). satoru gojo ⊹ genre. n/sfw ⊹ tags. gn!reader (strap is mentioned but no anatomy specifically mentioned), dom!reader, sub!gojo, groping, thigh humping, orgasm denial, toy usage (vibrator), hair pulling, degrading, petnames used, dacryphilia, gojo satoru being his usual mischievous self but reader knows how to put him in his place!

ask and you shall receive (THANK YOU FOR VOTING GOJO IN THE POLL THANK YOU THANK YOU THHNFJNJNMJMGKKT)

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI PLEASE!

"satoru, I said no."

"but..."

gojo's lips formed into a completely heartbroken pout as you swapped back to his regular old name instead of the affectionate nickname he'd insisted upon many a time, resting his head on your shoulder with a wounded expression.

for the past ten minutes, he'd been getting frisky with you. despite your repeated reminders that you were still technically on the clock if your students needed help with their training, they seemed to all go in one ear and out the other.

even now, his hand had slid down your lower back, just barely groping at your ass.

you immediately snatched up his wrist, glaring at him.

"do you want me to get furious with you? knock it off."

you didn't miss the way his eyes darkened with lust, biting his lip cheekily at your glowering stare.

"honey, if you look at me like that, it's going to get worse..."

indeed, your eyes drifted down just enough to see a prominent tent in your boyfriend's pants. just like a horny teenager, only one little push and he was raring to go.

as soon as you had caught sight of it, he grinned slyly, moving so that his front was pressed right up against your leg. he grasped your hand in his, just barely resisting the urge to start grinding against you.

you scoffed. a shiver wracked through satoru at the sound. he must be truly desperate.

"please, y/n, please?" he begged with all his might, blindfold off to truly accentuate his pleading eyes. "we can just do a quickie, just hop into an empty classroom, it'll take 5 minutes—"

"you say that every time, and it always turns into a fuckfest," you accused, feeling your eyebrow twitch at the way he guiltily conceded to your words with his cheeky smile. "you're never satisfied until I've wrung you dry at least ten times."

"that's an over exaggeration," he shot back, pouting again. before you could retort, you felt him give into his urges, rutting ever so slightly against your side. his breath, hot and heavy, landed on your ear, his breathless pleas swirling around in your mind.

he knew the way to get you going, and you hated him for it.

little whimpers slowly started filling your ear, but you tried not to react.

"please," satoru panted, biting down on his lip again as he got just the slightest stimulation from rubbing against you. his tip was leaking, aching, and he needed to do something about it now. needed you to do something about it.

"jus' love you so much... love you, love feeling you, please, feels so good in you, need you so bad..."

your glower was faltering.

"c'mon, please? just one, promise... want you inside me, too, know you keep that vibe in your bag jus' for me..."

you grit your teeth. as much as you hated to admit it in a moment where you were trying to be serious and consider your job at hand, he was right—the small remote-controlled vibrator was always carried with you at your boyfriend's loving request.

finally, you snapped, grabbing his bicep and practically yanking him into the empty classroom.

you slammed the door shut, all-too angry with the pleased expression your smug little boyfriend was sporting as he sat down on one of the desks.

"knew you'd—"

"quiet," you scolded, smashing your lips onto his. satoru reveled in how your tongue slid over his, how your teeth nipped at his abused lips from all his earlier biting, how you drank in his wanton moans.

he rutted up towards your leg again, but to his surprise, you grabbed his arms, pushing him chest-first onto the desk.

gojo wiggled his hips brazenly, as though inviting a challenge. you ignored his antics and lathered up your fingers with spit, pulling down his pants and finding his rim immediately.

he whined as you pushed the first finger inside, testing the waters. his little hole was as tight as ever, yet it still sucked your digits inside as soon as you started prodding. your other hand shifted to his weeping cock, lathering it in his overabundant pre, and he began squirming about.

little pants and huffs escaped his lips, but he still manages to turn on you with expectant, aggravating eyes.

"wish you had your strap," he whines, words long and drawn out. "want you to fuck me so good."

instead of ordering him to shut his mouth, you opted to shoving your precum coated fingers right into him, replacing your other hand and prodding down on his prostate nearly as soon as they'd entered him. satoru's back arched prettily at that, once smug eyes shooting wide open with surprised pleasure.

you began poking and pressing, rubbing against that sensitive little bundle of nerves within him. like a cheap whore, satoru instantly began pushing his ass back towards you, hips twitching with every press.

"p-please—" he whined, neglected cock practically dripping as you grasped his ass with your other hand, kneading it while you fucked him open. "more, w-want more, want it inside, lemme—"

you cleanly slid the vibrator into gojo before he could even process the movement, making sure it pressed into that spot within him just right.

he whimpered when your fingers left his hole, cock twitching. his blue eyes found yours again. a silent plea reflected in his gaze, but you only clicked your tongue, flipping him over and raising the remote as you sat across from him.

"I'm not riding you until we're home."

"but—!" those pretty eyes looked like they could start tearing up at any minute, but in the next second, they rolled back into satoru's head. the vibrator was noisy the instant you flipped it on, putting it on the highest setting and watching your boyfriend's jaw fall slack.

his thighs trembled as the little toy moved inside of him, drool beginning to slide down his lip as he grasped the desk.

you beckoned him over, and he shakily got to his feet, walking to stand in front of you. it seemed as though his knees might give out at any moment, poor thing, so you did the polite thing and propped up your leg.

"sit."

gojo didn't need to hear it twice, sitting himself right down on your leg and wincing as the vibe moved in him, shifting around with his every motion.

"want to get off, slut?"

gojo nodded enthusiastically, a heavy flush on his cheeks as he moaned and whined.

"yes, yes, please, touch my cock, please let me—"

"no, no," you chastised, placing your hand over his hip in a bruising grip. he whimpered. music to your ears. "you're going to hump my leg like a good little dog. got it?"

satoru keened. but with a weeping cock and no fight or cheek left in him, he nodded slowly, rubbing his aching dick against your leg. almost immediately, the stimulation had him desperate, rutting faster, his mouth opening as pathetic little noises left him.

"so pitiful," you hummed, reaching down to push on the vibrator stuffed up his ass. gojo cried out, precum trailing along your bare leg as he grinded against you like a dog in heat. "need me so bad, don't you, 'toru?"

"yes!" he sobbed, hands grasping your waist as he chased his pleasure blindly, eyes fogged over with a haze of lust. "p-please, lemme cum! want you in me! please fuck me!"

there was something so deeply intoxicating about seeing the strongest act like such a depraved whore all for you. you couldn't help but reach out and grab his chin, pushing your thumb onto his waiting tongue.

just like a cheap slut, he began sucking on your thumb at once, putting on a show of lathing your digit in spit and wrapping his tongue around it.

you smirked at that.

"being such a good little toy for me," you cooed. "maybe when we get home I'll really bend you over good and get you nice and ruined."

the way his eyes lit up with sheer lust was amusing beyond all belief.

"yes! yes!" he pleaded, pressing his ass and cock down onto your leg as he moved interchangeably to get the vibrator impossibly deeper within him. "s-so close! want you in me! want you to fuck me!"

"as you wish," you murmured lowly, pulling him down so he was angled more towards your chest. you reached behind him as he ground down onto your leg, grasping the vibrator and yanking it out of him. he was about to complain—that is, until he felt you shove it right back into him, obscene squelching accompanying the pounding of it into his prostate. the pleasure was sending jolts throughout the poor man, and he was growing increasingly desperate.

your other hand moved to his soft white locks, yanking them hard as you angled his face to be level with yours, kissing him sloppily as he keened into your mouth.

his cock was soaked in his own precum by now, twitching pitifully as it dragged against your leg. you could feel how wet it all was, the sticky white coating your skin in a soft sheen as he rubbed up and down.

"g'na—" gojo cried, muffled by your lips sliding over his. you allowed him a chance to breathe, staring into his teary eyes. "c-cum— g'na cum, cumming, cumming!"

before he could rut even once more, you reached between your two bodies, pinching the base of his cock. satoru's eyes shot wide open, and he tried at once to squirm away, but it was too late.

"n-no! no!" he sobbed, actual tears falling at last when the heat that had risen in his belly burned and faded instead of snapping like he had hoped. he blubbered openly, lower lip trembling as he tried to continue rubbing against you. "was so close! no— hngh! hurts, hurts, please, need t'—"

"never promised I'd let you cum."

gojo mewled, still trying to nudge his hips against yours, the sensation of the vibrator buzzing within him only bringing back a dull shred of pleasure that hurt somewhat after the blue balls you'd given him.

"why?" he sniffled, in a daze, and you almost felt bad with the way he looked up at you. "was so close, was so..."

you shrugged. "punishment for disobeying me, satoru. you know that's how it works."

he did. he did know that's how it works. still, he thought his charm had gotten him away with his little schemes.

"you're so mean," he practically cried, burying his face into your chest. "so mean to me!"

you glanced at the clock on the wall.

5:30.

"time to clock off," you sighed, sitting up and grasping at gojo's pants, pulling them up onto him. he noted how you did not remove the vibrator from within him, only turning it off with the small remote control.

you headed to the door at once, pointedly ignoring the puppy dog eyes your boyfriend was giving you. then, you glanced back at him.

"I thought you wanted to be fucked stupid tonight. so, are you coming home, or not?"

that perked him up.

satoru was by your side in an instant, squirming around just as he had done before, clearly still lust-struck.

"you're gonna fuck me back home?"

"yes."

"are you gonna fuck me 'til I can't walk?"

"yes, 'toru."

"make me cum ten times over to make up for—"

"not if you keep talking so loud! for god's sake, satoru, we're still in the school!"

well, he'd take it any day.

bonus:

"oh, ijichi-san!"

"hello, y/n-san! are you and gojo-san headed home for the day?"

"yes, I'm afraid he's not feeling too well..."

poor ijichi was painfully ignorant to the other implications gojo's flushed cheeks and uncomfortable noises could have, all the while your hand sneakily slid the small remote-control dial up in your pocket.

[celestiaras]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ deal with the devils ]❜

ft. doppio dropscythe, kotoka torahime, ver vermillion, meloco kyoran, hex haywire (separate, mostly) x f! reader — xsoleil, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ looks like you landed yourself in debt to a student council member after a gamble, but instead of paying it off with cash, they decided that you’ll be their personal pet!┊2.1k words

contains: smut!! dom doppi, koto, ver, melo, hex & sub reader┊kakegurui au, dubcon, pet play (collars, leashes, pet names, melo & hex treat you like a cat), master/pet dynamic, embarrassment/humiliation, third parties can be seen as xsoleil doppi - possessive behavior, fingering, edging as punishment, maybe ooc koto - masturbation (reader), recording, sending the vid to a third party) ver - cockwarming & unprotected sex, public (in front of xsoleil) melo - sex toys under clothing (publicly, in front of a third party) hex - possessive behavior, thigh-riding

➤ author's note: kotoka singing deal with the devil… happy one year anniversary to my fav wave!! looking forward to write more content for them because they deserve it! (especially the girls smh)┊(karaoke stream link)

snickering from onlookers didn’t help your situation as you bit your lip to stop yourself from crying, staring down at the cards in horror with your face burning from embarrassment. the student council member across from you smirked in victory, enjoying the show of your once confident exterior crumbling and tears beginning to streak down your pretty face. you weren’t a bad opponent, you just second-guessed your own abilities too many times which caused them to catch your bluff. now, you owe millions to them as a result.

don’t be so worried, they have a deal for you! either you become a regular ‘mittens’ to be bullied and harassed by the entire student body while trying to earn money by gambling to get out of your shitty situation faster (which could spiral into more than you could handle if you lost, forcing you to be a pet for the rest of your life) or you can become their personal housepet until they deemed your debt paid off. all that it takes is a tight collar with their name engraved in it rather than the standard dog tags to seal the deal. it’s a choice with only one answer really, they’ve never opened this option to anyone else so you would be stupid not to pick this easier route, you lucky girl!

━━━ .°˖✧ doppio dropscythe ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ as the duke of discipline, he also happens to be the one who’s also in charge of collecting debts from those who are long overdue or enforcing the life plans that are given out if the cash is never paid back. added with his past as a delinquent, he’s one of the scariest people in the school even if he insists that he could be much worse and that the students “don’t even know what scary is.” being his is added protection, you suppose. even as a designated housepet, you’re still exposed to getting terrorized by others because of your low status so having doppio’s name on your collar is enough to scare off anyone who thought of mocking you after your loss. even though usually he’s sweet toward you, his frightening side can show if you ever did something that displeased him. you could always try to be sneaky, but he has eyes and ears everywhere and always catches you,

his thumb pressed into the side of your stomach, holding you still so you could quit squirming in his grasp. your skirt was flipped upwards and your panties were merely pushed to the side, enabling him to brutally thrust his long fingers into your cunt. this was punishment, you already knew. he didn’t like the idea of you continuing to gamble to try and earn money to get out of your deal with him. did you really dislike being called his that much? or were you scared of him? he always tries his best to be kind towards you, but he guesses that seeing him threatening others daily doesn’t do much to ease your fears.

maybe finger-fucking you on a desk in an empty classroom doesn’t help either, but he needs to teach you a lesson in some way! you mewled as you felt him tease that spongy spot in you as he rotated his hand, causing you to unravel on the hardwood of the table. his palm rubbed against your clit and it was driving you insane, your cries becoming more and more pitched as you sensed your climax approaching. as melodic as you sounded right now, doppio couldn’t allow you to just yet and pulled back. he’ll repeat this as many times as it takes to discipline you because despite how it’s a vicious cycle for you, it’s an extremely fun one for him.

━━━ .°˖✧ kotoka torahime ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ first things first, as kotoka’s housepet, you’re also her servant: expect to clean up her place of residence, cook for her using fresh ingredients, and remind her to shower consistently (sometimes you’ll even help her out and massage the shampoo into her scalp). she loves to dress you up in little revealing maid dresses while you do it too, taking dozens of candid photos to further clog up her already stuffed storage on her phone. she just adores dressing you up in different styles that she finds on pinterest and trying new makeup products on you in general.

╰₊✧ on that note, she absolutely spoils you nonstop and is willing to buy you whatever clothes you want as long as she’s the first person to see you wearing it! more than half of her posts on her socials are just selfies to show off how cute you are to her massive following, liking every single comment that expresses their envy on how they wished they had a doll like you to pamper.

the ring light positioned on the nightstand was the only light in the room, but it did a perfect job of illuminating your fingers languidly dancing around your clit while kotoka filmed the entire thing on her phone and complimented you for doing such a good job. it was such a sight to watch your essence drip onto the glittery fabric below, staining and ruining the new outfit she just bought for you. don’t worry about the dress, she’ll send it to dry-cleaning later or will even replace the entire thing altogether if needed!

shame has long been thrown out the window as you stared at her painted pink middle and ring fingers that were clipped shorter than the rest, imagining that it was her fingers pushing into you instead. compared to all of the other things she has you do for her amusement, masturbating in front of her while she’s recording is relatively mundane even though there’s a high chance she’ll post it on her private story for her friends to fawn over later. don’t think too much though, just focus on performing for the camera!

━━━ .°˖✧ ver vermillion ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ think you’re let off easy because kaichou is the busiest and seemingly calmest of the bunch? think that kaichou won’t be as kinky as the others because of his position and how gentle he is? think again, you’re at a school full of people with mythic abilities who gamble as a form of status and put losers in leashes, how could anyone be exempt from the insanity? if anything, you should have seen it coming because it’s impossible for someone of his status in such an environment to be anything but a closeted freak.

you’re certain that your face is burning hotter than losing the gamble that got you in this situation, unable to look anywhere but the floor while you were nestled on the president’s cock in front of the other student council members. why he decided to do this is beyond you, but if it would work towards paying off your debt, you were willing to roll with it at the price of your dignity that was repeatedly being torn away from you. you felt incredibly self-conscious at the four pairs of eyes on you: doppio and kotoka merely peeking in a poor attempt to give you some privacy while meloco and hex were staring shamelessly with smirks, wondering if ver would ever let them take his cute pet for a spin.

whatever ver was talking about fell deaf to your ears, just filled with the mind-numbing pleasure of being stretched out by him. as uncomfortable as the whole thing felt, it wasn’t comparable to the feeling of orgasm beginning to bloom as you began to writhe for more stimulation. whenever you shifted and whined, however, he held your thighs still to stop you from moving about. he won’t give you what you want until everyone leaves the room, finally bending you over the table to fuck you until your legs are shaking.

━━━ .°˖✧ meloco kyoran ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ meloco treats you like the prettiest persian kitty in her expensive handbag that would probably cost more than your place of residence, showing you off as her most darling arm candy. she even goes as far as to run her fingers through your hair and baby-talk you while squishing your cheeks like you were a real kitten. she especially does this when she makes you sit on her lap while she’s gambling, doting on you, and paying you more attention than her opponent with the bonus of pissing them off.

╰₊✧ she insists that it’s a form of affection, but you’re more than positive that she just gets off on embarrassing you in front of others. not like how a bully treats a victim when tripping them in the halls or dumping dirty mop on them, more like dragging some bedroom things into the light when you could prefer to keep it private… but anything to pay off your debt, right?

the short plaid uniform skirt was doing you no favors as you pressed your thighs together tightly in hopes of muffling the vibrations being sent to your core, standing behind meloco while she was seated and chatting with some friends. it was on the lowest level, but the bullet toy attached to your clit was making you go crazy. it’s been on since the conversation started, a time period that you long lost track of, desire continuing to bloom but she was purposely edging and it’s certainly better than climaxing in with people taking notice. you clenched your hands together and bit the inside of your mouth to prevent any sounds from escaping your lips, but failed and attracted the attention of another in the room.

you stuttered out that you were fine and adverted your eyes, hoping that their conversation would continue and take their attention off of you already. the exorcist looked at you with an amused smile and you watched in horror as she reached into her pocket for the controller, slowly increasing the speed of the vibrator. your hand shot up to cover your mouth and you ran out of the room, bolting to the nearest empty restroom stall and quickly removing the toy— accepting in defeat that you denied yourself ecstasy in the heat of the moment. it’s not until you left and ran into meloco did you realize that you disobeyed her orders to stay there until she was done, but from the excitement in her magenta eyes, you could tell that she was more than happy to punish you.

━━━ .°˖✧ hex haywire ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ hex isn’t the student counselor for nothing, he’s fantastic at reading people and what their next move would be with just a look at their facial expressions— it would next to impossible to win a gamble against him unless you were wearing a mask. you knew all that and still accepted his challenge out of pride, but don’t feel too bad about it, it was impossible for you to win in the first place! let’s just say that just because he’s essentially an unpaid therapist doesn’t mean that he’s above manipulating situations to his advantage!

╰₊✧ with that in mind, he’s a rigger through and through so don’t be surprised that your debt keeps increasing for various reasons and the fact that the life plan you received requires you to marry him followed by starting a family in the future. it’s not that bad, now is it? would you rather have to marry some disgusting corrupted businessman who would only care for your body and never care for your well-being, or a handsome man who will treat you like a queen and coddle you with endless riches of your wildest imagination?

he tugged on the metal chain to pull you towards him, meeting your lips in the middle in a soft and slow kiss— encouraging you to keep grinding on his thigh. through your soaked panties, you were already leaving a wet spot on his pants and he chuckled at how you were allowing your instincts to take control of your hips so easily like it was second nature. your soft moans and hums were practically purring, almost letting him to visualize a faint outline of a fluffy tail swishing about and pointed ears atop your head.

you were so adorable when you were obedient like this, sitting pretty on his lap while accepting kiss after kiss from him. you tilted your head to the side to allow him access to the soft of your neck, taking in a breath when you felt your pulse rushing under the touch of his lips as he began to mark up your skin all across your collarbone. he’ll lie and cheat a thousand more times for moments like this. if it meant having you in his arms forever, he’ll never feel an ounce of guilt for trapping you with him for the rest of your mortal lives.

[cursedvibes]

I absolutely hate the way fandom keeps misinterpreting this chart, especially in regards to Yuuji and Hakari. They just go "oh someone is bad at learning in a classroom setting? well they must be stupid and an absolute meathead". Zero consideration for why some people might do worse in academic settings or why one school has considerably "smarter" students than the other. Maybe it's not the students fault and maybe test scores aren't everything.

I'm gonna assume this person was just making a general statement about the Tokyo Trio group dynamic that wasn't meant to be that serious and worded it badly. That's why I'm writing this in a separate post. And again, this is more about a broader trend I see every time that chart gets passed around, not this specific person.

It just annoys me so much how they keep hammering in on Yuuji and Hakari being at the bottom and what that must mean about their overall mental capacity. Hakari was mistreated by the school, no wonder he didn't care about tests. In a day-to-day situation he's much smarter than Panda (three kids in a trenchcoat) or Megumi, but obviously that won't show here. Most people get overwhelmed as soon as he so much as attempts to explain his cursed technique and domain, but sure he's the dumb one. This shows he isn't even bad at regular learning topics, he just had no reason to care about this school.

Same with Yuuji. The fanbook this same chart is from shows he's good in regular high school, he just struggles with the more mathematical side of the STEM subjects. Getting physics lessons from Gojo sounds like a nightmare. Which brings me again to the phenomena that the students in Kyoto do overall much better than the one in Tokyo. If you have nobody to properly explain concepts to you, no shit you're not gonna do well and we have heard many times before that Gojo is a bad teacher. Yuuji learns very fast, we've seen it when he is together with Nanami, Todo and Kusakabe, it just all comes down to how you teach him. Although to be fair, the classroom teaching is also done by assistant directors and windows, who are probably too overworked to put much effort into it. So you have naturally the students already good at learning in this type of environment at the top, while everyone else gets left behind.

Besides that, Yuuji and Nobara have always been very good at thinking on their feet, especially when they are together. Just think their teamwork when fighting Eso and Kechizu or Mahito. In Mahito's case they didn't even see each other and it worked. Dumb Nobara figured out the Mahito she was fighting was a clone, dealt considerable damage to him and thereby helped Yuuji immensely. Anticipating the next steps of enemies and allies alike takes intelligence as well as analysing an opponents abilities and weaknesses like when Nobara turned Rot against Kechizu. Dumb little Yuuji is the sole reason there is even a coherent plan to save Megumi right now.

Yuuji and Nobara like to joke around and be goofy while Megumi is more reserved, but that doesn't make him smarter or them dumber that's just a part of their personality. Megumi being too much in his head and not appropriately judging risks and coming up with effective solutions for them was a whole thing he had to work on and overcome. Todo is also a good example that being a bit of a delinquent and silly guy doesn't say anything about smarts. He's probably just better at school learning (being trained by Yuki that would be partially a necessity) and also had better teachers.

[luvrxbunny]

hi, im loving your work and i'm not sure if this is like where your at cause it's just regular old eddie but i was wondering if you'd write something like reader and eddie are both really into each other but haven't said anything and she knows how into d&d he is so she makes on of his campaigns into a comic but shes been so busy she unintentionally pulls away and eddies worried she finally "woke up" and realized hes a freak. maybe something like she's from new york banished to her aunts in hawkins aunts cause she has to repeat senior year again and eddie immediately is like wow. but happy ending obviously, maybe some smut if the spirit moves you. i hope this isnt too specific i know your last request was more vague but i had the idea and thought it'd be cute, if your not into it though that's fine i figure it never hurts to ask right 😘

hi! thank you for requesting! there actually isn't smut in this one but if you'd like some you can request a part 2 kinda thing!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie feels you pulling away and assumes the worst.

Warnings: smoking (weed), misunderstandings and emotions (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 6.9k

A/N: idfk this might be word vomit- i tried please have mercy

Eddie was the first friend you made here in Hawkins after being abandoned by your family. The sting of failing your senior year was enough, but the pain of your family being too embarrassed to house you anymore made it even worse. You had to watch all summer as all your other friends packed up for college while you were packing to be sent away. You were forced to go live with your aunt, which wasn’t the worst situation you could’ve ended in. 

She’s nice to you, understanding. She doesn’t believe in traditional schooling, she says it’s ‘no wonder’ that you failed. She claims ‘You’re a special girl with the mind of an artist’ and ‘schools aren’t built for people like you two’. You love her, you just can’t stand some of her habits. 

She lives a very hippie lifestyle. She forces you to walk to school, even on the first day, saying it was good for your mental health but all it did was make you incredibly sweaty for your first day. Although it ended up working out for the best. 

You arrived panting and sweaty from your rush over. She hadn’t told you the night before that you’d be walking so you didn’t wake up early enough. You could not stand being late to first period, not wanting to deal with the entire class watching you find a seat. So you had to haul ass to school. You had planned out an incredibly cute outfit that was now ruffled, mussed, and damp with sweat. You wanted to cry as you sat down in the back left corner of the classroom, getting a nice view of the field beside the school, the trees and flowers that live there. You’re huffing and puffing, your breathing all out of order from you trying to regulate it as students pour in. You watched as the cliques formed themselves, having been established in the previous years. You took out a notebook and buried yourself in it, hoping no one would approach you. 

The other students settled down and the teacher began her orientation. You aren’t listening as she speaks, watching the rain that's pattering gently on the classroom window. She was going on about the syllabus, informing you of the incredibly boring things you’d be learning in her class when he burst through. Opening the door with so much force that it slammed on the wall behind it, he was huffing and puffing, nearly soaked in rain with a bag loosely thrown over his shoulder. The thing about him that stuck with you though, was the blinding, dimpled, smile that was on his face. Despite being drenched, late, and the current center of attention, he had the largest smile you had seen all day. It was so genuine that you were smiling along with him without even realizing it. 

“Mr. Munson. I see you’re in my class again…” She spat the words at him so venomously you expected to see his smile drop, falter at least but it widened instead. 

“I am! Yes. I am! And I’d like to focus more on what that says about my… my determination, rather than what I may lack in this particular subject.” Again? Maybe he’s a repeat like me?

Something about the thought made you feel a bit fond of him. 

“Mhm. That’s nice. Have a seat.” She continued to drone on as he looked around for a seat, his eyes widened at you, seeing you already smiling and staring at him. This snapped you out of your trance and you tried desperately to avoid his gaze, pretending like you hadn’t been watching him since he came in. 

He decided to sit next to you and you guys hit it off instantly, later finding that you had almost every class together. You felt so lucky, he was so, so kind. He spent your first two periods and lunch together. He introduced you to his friends, let you know the special ins and outs of the school, and even offered you a ride when he found out your aunt was leaving you hanging. He told you that you’d have to wait with him after school because apparently, he ran a club called “Hellfire”. 

Honestly, in the period after lunch, without him, you questioned if this was the kind of person you should align yourself with. In the next period, with him, when you walked in the door he waved you over and moved the backpack that was on the desk next to him. “Hey! I saved you a seat.” He had that shining, dimpled, smile again and you decided it didn’t matter what kind of person he was. He was kind to you and that’s what mattered. 

You learned a lot about him and you feel like that’s when you started falling in love with him. 

He told you about his struggles with his family, and why he lived with his uncle. He told you about his childhood and got a little teary-eyed, although he still kept his butterfly-inducing smile. 

He told you about his struggles with this town and warned you that you may be subject to ridicule by befriending him. That was the only time his smile fully dropped, he got this kicked puppy look in his eyes as he lied to you, telling you that ‘he’d understand.’ or that ‘you don’t need to feel bad’. You told him you’re not afraid of some small-town hicks. 

He apologized to you at the end of the class, saying it must’ve been awkward to listen to him blubber about his life all class but you, stars in your eyes and in love, adamantly assured him that you didn’t mind. 

You ended up loving his club, the planning, the theatrics, and the suspense, were unbelievable. You were engaged the whole time, obsessed with how Eddie told his story, and invested in the team and their survival. You told Eddie about how cool you thought it was the whole ride home. By the end of the ride, you were apologizing profusely for how much you had talked about it but he, red in the face and flustered, adamantly assured you that he didn’t mind. 

You guys have been almost inseparable since. It’s been about seven months here at Hawkins now and your little crush has snowballed into a bit of a colossal crush on Eddie. Nowadays, your Hellfire visits are filled with you just watching him. You don’t pay attention to the plot, to how the characters are doing, or anything… just him.

 It’s getting a bit embarrassing in fact, because you’ll have fewer things to say on the ride to your house than you usually do and he’s begun to question it, asking if you thought he needed to work on anything and not believing you when you say that ‘he doesn’t need to change anything’ or that ‘it was so perfect you have no notes.’

A secondary reason you’ve started staring at him more is because you’ve been working on something for him; a way for you to confess how you feel about him in a way that you hope he’d like. You’re completely unsure of how he may feel about you. You’ve noticed a few things… the way he’ll save a seat and always give it to you, no matter who arrived before you, how he seemed to be somewhat softer with you than he is with everyone else, but you chalked it up to hopeful thinking. 

You were trying to make a comic of the first time he invited you to Hellfire. You can remember it almost perfectly and for anything you don’t remember you can just refer to your journal. You’d written all about it after you got home. 

You’ve been spending most of your time in the art room now, trying your absolute best to make it the most professional-looking, homemade comic anyone had ever seen. You think about the smile that Eddie would wear, even if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, you at least hope he appreciates the art. 

You’ve gathered help from a lot of unsuspecting people. You found out that quite a few girls on the cheerleading team are a great help when it comes to designing the outfits. They’ve started to meet you in the art room at lunch to help with the comic, slightly invested in the plot even though you’ve explained multiple times that it’s technically Eddie’s plot. They’ve also become quite interested in your love life, knowing that it’s for Eddie. They actually root for the two of you, they were all much nicer than you expected them to be. 

You’ve started to miss a few club meetings as well. To be fair though, you aren’t technically part of the club. Eddie explained that since you don’t play you’re technically just a consistent bystander. It had hurt your feelings at first, feeling left out of the group but now it’s just convenient. You don’t have to tell Eddie in advance that you aren’t going and you don’t need to tell him why. You always go to the art room instead to work on your comic. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, the cheerleaders join you after practice to help you work some more. You started to fall behind in school work, not paying attention to anyone or anything in class in favor of working on your comic instead. This little picture book has consumed your entire life for a few weeks. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was suffering the whole time.

He noticed it when it first started. At lunch one day, instead of eating and engaging in the conversation you kept opening your notebook and doodling little things he couldn’t see. He kept having to get your attention and re-explain everything that was happening whenever he tried to include you in the conversation. Eventually, you just told him, with a soft laugh, that you’re not listening. You giggled and went back to your doodling, not even realizing that what they had been talking about, was the idea of you joining Hellfire officially, even if you don’t play. Your disinterest almost broke Eddie’s heart, it hurt a lot actually but he reasoned with himself. 

Maybe she just doesn’t want all the heat, and bullying that comes with being a part of Hellfire. She’s soft, she just doesn’t want to say that right now, in front of the whole table. She’s so cute… She’ll tell me why, later.

You never did. You never explained to him why you cared so little about being in a club he cared so much about. 

You began to pull away more and more after that. He would plan campaigns with you in mind, creating twists and turns he knows you’d love, imagining the look on your face and the excitement in your voice when you’d tell him about it on the ride home. However, you started telling him you couldn’t make it to Hellfire. You never gave him an explanation and he never asked for one, you guys are just friends… he has no right. 

A little piece of his heart would chip away every time you canceled on him, breaking even more whenever he had to receive pitiful stares from everyone else when they noticed characters in the campaign that were so obviously you-coded. The confused looks from every member whenever they asked where you were, only to be met with a sad shrug, became a bit too much for him. He was still giving you a ride home, you’d arrive at the end of Hellfire with a shy smile on your face for it every day so you had to be staying somewhere at school. He was determined to find you. 

He ended Hellfire early one day and set on his quest to find you. He knows you love to read so the library was the first place he checked, only to find the doors locked. His next stop was the art room, stopping to peep inside the cafeteria on his way over and shaking his head sadly when you weren’t there. At this point, he’s sure that you’re in the art room, but what confuses him is that he can hear girly, popular, giggling coming from the very room that you must be in. He rushes over in a half-sprint, thinking that some girls were picking on you but when he gets to the door he can see you laughing along with them as you doodle on something. 

“I mean he’s… cute..” Chrissy Cunningham says to Eddie’s intense confusion. Who are they talking about..? What is she doing with Chrissy Cunningham? The other cheerleaders burst into a smaller fit of laughter at her words. 

“I think he’s cute!” You say and Eddie’s heart sinks at your words. Who? He waits there for a while but you guys never give specifics. He watches the cheerleaders giggle and tease you about your mystery crush. He only witnesses the way you fiddle with your pencil with the biggest smile he’s seen all day splitting your face. It hurts him to see you so happy over someone else, he watches you as a dark, numb, pain spreads inside his chest before walking away with tears in his eyes. His hands were in his pockets, shoulders hunched defeatedly as he heard you girls cheering behind him.

When you came for your ride he wasn’t in the Hellfire classroom waiting for you, instead, he was leaning on his van smoking. He never smoked around you, not cigs at least. You had explained your many bad memories with men who smoked and how it caused you to just despise the smell, that it even caused you a bit of anxiety before you even knew that he smoked. 

Out of kindness, Eddie just avoided smoking around you all together, but right now he was stressed, hurt, and on the verge of a breakdown and a cigarette was the only thing that could keep him from that. 

He didn’t care too much if you minded, you’d already decided you didn’t want to be around him anymore, choosing to hang out with the cheerleaders instead, letting them coax you over to the dark side from right under his nose. He should’ve held onto you tighter, he should’ve known they’d try and snatch you. You were so beautiful, and you’d be so popular under their watch but they’d also corrupt you, turn you into them, murdering the sweet, caring, and loving girl you were. The thought broke his heart, hence the cigarette in between his fingers when you approached him for your ride.

“Hey, Eddie! I was starting to think you left me!” You say with an adorable giggle that he wishes he could smile at. He blows smoke up into the air, avoiding your face, and puts it out. 

“Yeah. I was actually thinking the exact same thing.” He says with a humorless laugh that shocks you. You’re about to ask him if he’s okay when he gets in and starts the van. You rushed over to your side to get in before he drove off in silence. This is when you’d ask him about Hellfire and he’d give you the outline of what happened, but this time when you ask, he responds with “Same old, same old.”

You never thought you craved his voice as much as you do now. The drive is longer, some strange traffic blocking the way and the silence in the van gets to be too much for you. 

Forget about wrapping. 

“Eddie?” He hums at you, letting you know he heard you but doesn't turn to look at you. His eyes stay on the packed, unmoving road. “I- I made you something.”

His head turns to you so fast you can almost hear it crack. “You made me something?” The shock in his voice is surprising. It’s like he never, ever, had even considered that with all your artistic talent, you’d want to make him something. You have all of his attention now. 

“Yeah…” You reach into your bag and pull it out gently while Eddie gets off the road, pulling into a parking lot. “I- Well, I was going to wrap it but I’ll just give it to you now. I- I hope you like it…”

He’s smiling at you as you rummage through your backpack gently for whatever you have for him. He tried not to get too excited but he couldn’t help himself… 

“I’ll love it, sweetheart.” His heart is swelling at the idea of receiving a gift from you. That means at some point, somewhere you had seen something and thought of him, you thought of him so much that you just had to buy that item and you planned on gift wrapping it for him. 

Maybe it's a goodbye present. Fuck- be cool. 

Eddie tried to shove his thoughts to the back of his head, his heart was pounding as you pulled it out of your bag. It was a little book… A comic book? “Oh! What comic is this?”

He grabs it from your hand to read the cover and sees “The Brave, Bold, and Indomitable, Eddie the Banished VOL. 1” He reads it over again and again, believing that his eyes are playing tricks on him before slowly turning to look at you. You had a sweet, shy, and scared smile on your face as you awaited his reaction. “No fucking way.” His voice is a low, stunned, whisper as your smile spreads and he quickly flips through the little book. 

He opened the first page and felt like he couldn’t breathe, the art inside was breathtaking. “No fucking way.” He examined a character that was definitely him, running his fingers over the pages in awe. 

“Yeah, t-that’s you.” You scoot closer to him and lean over the center console to point him out on the page. “Here’s the rest of the party.” You point out more details to him, explaining why you picked some of the outfits you did, and why you chose certain trees and times of day but Eddie isn’t paying very much attention. He’s not even looking at the book anymore, he’s just watching you. You’re explaining every aspect of the page to him as he inspects every aspect of your face. Until you abruptly stop and he watches embarrassment creep into your features. His eyes flicker back to the page as you take your finger away from where you were pointing and he notices a little person in the corner of the page, almost hidden in the bushes as the party makes their way through a forest. 

“What-” He recognizes it on further analysis. “Is that you?” He asks with a chuckle of disbelief as he pulls the page closer to his eyes, admiring your little character. “Why are you in the bushes, sweetheart?” 

You’re stumbling over your words at the pet name. Eddie has used it twice in this car ride alone and you’re struggling not to lose your mind. “U- Um well… I’m- I’m just a bystander so… so I’m just by-standing.” You end the sentence with a sad giggle and your eyes shift to your fidgeting hands in your lap. Eddie’s smile falters at it and the memory of him inviting you to be more than. 

“Yeah. I mean- not for lack of trying y’know? I guess you’d rather be a cheerleader.” He tried to keep his tone light and jovial as he turned the page, now looking for you in every bush. He’s chuckling at your drawings as you’re overcome with confusion. “Eddie. What are you talking about?”

He doesn't look up from the book. “C’mon, love. We offered you a membership without gameplay and you just-” He takes a deep breath as he feels a small lump form at the base of his throat. “You couldn’t have been less interested.” He’s giving you that humorless laugh again as he flips the page. You’re searching your brain, racking your memories, trying to remember when this happened but coming up blank.

“Eddie, I don’t remember that happening.” He sighs, shuts the book, and shoves it under his thigh before starting the van back up, sad anger bubbling in his chest. 

“Listen, I get it. Y’know, you wanna be popular. I understand the pull, sweetheart. I don’t blame you at all.” You’ve never felt more confused as Eddie pulled out of the parking lot. Your silence makes him nervous, and nerves make his mouth run. 

“I mean… When you got here- poor unsuspecting, you- didn’t believe that the first friend you made was-” He lifts his hands from the wheel for a moment to make air quotes. “The town freak.” He gives you that laugh again.

“I’m honestly surprised that it took you so long to leave us losers for the popular crowd!” His voice is still upbeat, and light, as though he wasn’t breaking your heart and insulting you to your core at the same time. “OH! I- I guess you just needed a ride, right? It’s alright, sweetpea.” He’s so frustrating, that fake smile plastered on his face as he pulls up to your house. 

“Eddie.” Your voice is strained around the ball in your throat but still angry. “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I don’t even like what you’re saying so either explain or just stop talking.” He parks the van on your curb and stares at you silently. You take this as the ‘stop talking’ option. “Okay. Thanks for the ride…” You hop out of his van sadly and turn around. “I- I hope you like your comic, Eddie…” With that, you slam the door closed and rush to your front porch. Eddie waits to watch you enter the house before pulling out of your driveway, trying not to let his guilt override his anger. 

On the whole drive home, Eddie is mulling over everything you said. Your seemingly genuine confusion over the invitation. He thinks over the original scene, you did say you weren’t listening. Eddie thought you meant it in the sense where you knew what the conversation was about but you wanted to stay out of it… but maybe you literally were not listening. Maybe you legitimately did not hear what they had said. 

Eddie pulls into his driveway and opens the comic book, deciding he needs to read it before heading in. He didn’t realize how long he’d end up spending in his van, reading your comic but when he finally looked up from the pages, getting butterflies from your art and how vividly you remember his campaign, the sky was dark. He chuckled to himself and headed inside to get ready for bed. 

Eddie flipped through the comic all night, noticing a pattern within your art. You were on every page that the Hellfire party was on, watching what he assumed was all of them. He was obsessed with your art, especially your character, and was psycho analyzing her when he noticed it. She was staring at his character. On every page the two of you were on, you were staring at him, your line of sight fixed on his character. 

He felt as though he was losing his mind as he frantically flipped through every page. His heart raced as he watched your character watch him. He loved it, whether you did it on purpose or not, it was doing something to him. Heat rushed to his face as he put the book away and calmed himself down. He didn’t want to read too much into it but he couldn’t help the way his heart raced when he approached you about it the next day. 

He wanted to work up to the subject, he wanted to pretend that it hadn’t consumed his every thought since he noticed but instead, he just blurted it out to you the moment he sat down.

“Why are you watching me?” His face goes red after the words shoot out, wishing he had taken more time to craft what he wanted to ask. He watches humored puzzlement bloom over your face as you giggle softly, giving him butterflies in his tummy.

 “Eddie, you just got here. I was gonna say hi…” Your voice is timid, still careful after the little argument yesterday and fear begins to curl in Eddie’s stomach. He forgot he had been an asshole to you yesterday. 

Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe she was just drawing her “good side”. Why would she be staring at you, Munson? Get a grip, Jesus.  

He tries to play it off. “I- I’m just sayin’ you could’ve waved or something.” He tries to sound upbeat, and cheerful, but he can’t get it to sound genuine. All night he’s been fantasizing about what it would be like if you actually liked him back. How he would give you hugs and kisses no matter where you were. He thought about how in love with you he’d be, it’d be pretty annoying to everyone else but he wouldn’t even care. 

He knows you’d love it too, he’d give you everything he has, everything he had and ever will have. 

He shouldn't have gotten so far ahead of himself. 

He thought about how he would follow you to whatever college you wanted to go to- if you wanted to go. He would get a job nearby and you guys could rent an apartment together. He’d wait until you’ve graduated to ask you to marry him. He’d take you to your favorite spot, with all your favorite things, and propose to you in whatever way you’d want him to. He’d spare no expense on the ring- if that’s something you’d care about. 

He’d start a mechanic shop with Wayne and they’d be so rich that you wouldn't even need to work if you didn’t want to. He thought about your kids, he’d hope that they look like you, they’d get far in the world being as beautiful as you are. He wants them to be like you too, good, sweet, and caring. He spent the night going over your whole lives together, his cheeks sore from how long he’d been smiling. But you don’t like him like that. 

Eddie distantly hears the bell ring, not realizing he’d spent the whole class moping over the fact that you don’t like him. He looks around to see you’ve already left him. You usually wait with him, you like to chat on the way to the next class. Your absence has never felt so painful for him. 

Once he’s gathered his things he heads to the next class where he sees your seat surrounded by cheerleaders, a small smile on your face as they seem to dote on you. He decides he doesn’t need to sit with you today, you have enough people to keep you company. He actively avoids looking at you for the duration of the class, rushing out once the bell rings. 

He rushes to the bathroom, bumping into people and getting insults hurled his way in the process. He gets to his stall, with all his graffiti, and slumps against the wall to the floor. His mind is racing, his chest heaving as he tries to cope with losing you. She’s with them now I guess? But- 

His memories flash back to all the times you guys hung out, just the two of you. He felt as though you were just a better, female version of him. You were an outcast but in the best- or worst- way possible. You were like a gem he had found in this pile of shit town, everyone else had overlooked you, not wanting to wash the shit off to see you shine, but he had. He didn’t care about the shit, he wanted to be there for you in the way no one was there for him when he arrived. 

He thinks he fell in love with you the moment he found out you were also repeating your senior year, not for the third time like him but still. He thought it was cute how embarrassed you were about the fact that you were repeating, he loved the way he was able to help you be more comfortable and help you understand that it’s not your fault.

 He felt like- He thought that he was something special to you, he hoped he was something special to you. He treats you like you’re something special to him because you are- or at least he thought he treated you like that. 

Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he should’ve invited you to play in Hellfire more often, invited you over more, given you more of his lunch when your aunt forgot to give you money, and given you a better discount on his weed. Maybe he should’ve just been less of a freak. 

Tears are gathering in his eyes as he angrily rubs at them, feeling pathetic. Crying over a girl in a bathroom stall. I really am a fucking loser. 

He takes a few deep breaths before getting off the ground, leaving the bathroom, and heading to the cafeteria. He expects to see you at his table, and the butterflies in his stomach come back to life when he imagines the tone you’ll give him when you ask where he’s been like you always do when he’s late. He grabs lunch and sits down… you’re nowhere to be seen. 

“Where’s your better half?” Gareth asks, gaining a laugh from the table. It just hurts Eddie more. He stays silent, pulling out his Walkman and letting music drown out every voice or thought in his head until he sees people getting up to leave. 

“Hey, Ed.” Gareth is the only one who waited for him.

“I’m sorry if I was an ass earlier. I know you like her, I just- I thought you actually did know where she was.” Eddie feels his throat close up and almost rolls his eyes at himself. 

“It’s fine, Gareth. She’s probably off with Chrissy Cunningham.” He says with a gruff, tense voice, ignoring the shock that plasters on Gareth’s face.

“Cunningham? What- How does she even know her?” Eddie shrugs and starts walking to his next class, Gareth following close behind. “She’s like what? Friends with them now? She’s gonna be a cheerleader or something?” Eddie feels his emotions building inside him, like an overfilled balloon and he’s about to pop. 

He stops walking and turns to him. “I don't fucking know, Gareth.” Gareth’s gaze shifts from Eddie immediately. “I don’t know why she’s hanging out with them now. I don’t know why she doesn’t come to Hellfire or why she doesn’t talk to me on the ride to her house anymore. I don’t know!” Eddie is met with silence at the end of his rant. “Oh! I know.” His voice has dropped to a low, condescending, whisper. 

“Maybe she got tired of being one of the freaks, hmm?” He rushes off to his next class and for the first time, he’s grateful that you’re not in it. 

You’re in class and your thoughts could not be further from the material. You’re thinking about Eddie of course. The way he acted in the van yesterday, the way he acted in first period, and even second period. You noticed he came into lunch late and didn’t even speak to anyone when he did come in. He didn’t look at you, talk to you, or anything. It hurt. 

You’re anxious, leg bouncing and chewing on your pen as you watch the clock. You need to see him, ask him what’s wrong. 

Maybe he figured it out. Fear shoots through you. Maybe he figured out that I like him from the comic. I didn’t get to explain much but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Is this his reaction to my liking him? No. It can’t be. Even if he didn’t like me back… I don’t think he’d treat me like this. I think he would let me down gently.  

It’s a nice thought but it just leaves you back where you started. What is wrong with Eddie?

You’re ready to ask him. You got there first and pulled his desk a little closer to yours, hoping to have a full, meaningful conversation with him. He never shows. 

This isn’t alarming to anyone but you, everyone scoffs when the teacher reads out Eddie’s name the second time. There are murmurs of “took him long enough” and “I’m so shocked” hurting you with their lack of care. You wait for attendance to finish before asking to go to the bathroom. You take your bag with you and no one questions it, knowing you as the ‘good girl’, not realizing you’re about to skip class for the first time. 

You roam the school looking for Eddie. You check Hellfire’s room, the band room, even the art room but you can’t find him. You check places he wouldn’t be, the library, the computer lab, and even the abandoned school basement. Your heart is racing as you rush out to the parking lot, hoping at least his van is still here and that’s where you find him. Coughing on what you assume is cigarette smoke by his van.

“Eddie!” You shout his name without thinking and his head whips in your direction, shocked. A smile spreads on his face as you stomp toward him. Despite all the unknowing pain you’ve put him through today, the butterflies in his stomach are still alive for you. 

“Eddie, what the fuck?” His smile falters but quickly returns as he goes to hand you the joint he’s smoking. 

“You’re skipping!? You look like you need this more than I do.” You take the joint and inhale the most smoke you can without burning your lungs, Eddie looks impressed. 

“I do need this more than you.” You speak as you exhale. Eddie is staring at the joint, waiting for you to pass it back but instead, you take another hit. “I need this more than you do because I’m not the one who is stressing you beyond oblivion! What is going on with you?” Eddie’s eyes are on the ground as he kicks the little rocks there. 

“Eddie. You know you can talk to me, right? If anything is going on with Wayne or- or maybe something else? I don’t know I- I just- I can’t figure out why you’re acting so… different.”

He laughs. He fully laughs at you. His hand on his chest, leaning back and roaring his laughter into the air. “I’m acting different?” He snatches the joint from your hand. “I’m the one acting different, sweetheart? Miss ‘So sorry I can’t come to Hellfire today! No! I’m not going to explain!’, you’re telling me that I’m acting different?” He takes a drag 

“You don’t care about my campaigns anymore, you never have time to come over, you never have time for me to come over, and now you- you don’t sit with me at- at lunch anymore?” His voice breaks at the end and he turns away to take a hit before you can see the tears in his eyes. “Don’t tell me that I’m stressing you out.” He scoffs and holds his hand out, passing you the joint. 

It strikes something in you; Eddie still passing the joint back to you even though he’s upset. You take it from him with a small ‘thank you’ and take a hit before responding. “I was- It was the comic Eddie… I was working on the comic. It was harder than it looked I guess. I- I couldn’t get your hair right and-”

Eddie hasn’t reacted, he feels like he’s in shock, like his heart has stopped, he’s having a stroke, something. Your voice sounds far away as he’s buried in his thoughts. 

I’m a dickhead. I’m an asshole. She was doing it for me and I’m- I was yelling at her for it. I’m a fucking asshole. She’s still talking to me so softly too. Fuck. Why isn’t she upset with me? Why isn't she yelling at me? Why aren’t I apologizing? 

“I’m sorry!” His voice is the epitome of pitiful, he didn’t notice the knot that had made home in his throat or the tears that had been sitting on the ducts. Your eyes are wide and you almost drop the joint to hug him, knowing he gets emotional when he’s high. 

“Why are you sorry? You don’t need to be sorry- what’s wrong?” His arms wrap around you, crushing you to his chest as he huffs out breaths into your hair. He’s trying to calm down, trying to not completely break down in front of you but he’s failing so far. 

Fuck- fuck. Stop crying- what the fuck happened to you? Stop blubbering like a bitch- She’s she’s so soft- oh fuck she’s so warm. She’s so fucking sweet. I fucking love her. She’s- She’s so stupid.

“I do ne- need to be sorry what are you talking about?” He pulls away, leaving one hand on your shoulder as he runs his knuckles and the back of his arm along the bottom of his nose. “I was being an asshole- an asshole. When you were just tryna do something nice.” He’s breathing out shuddering breaths as he speaks. 

She’s too sweet to me. She still has her arms around me- such a fucking sweetheart. I love her- I want her, I wanna tell her. 

You don’t know what the fuck is going on. Eddie is a blubbery mess in front of you, holding you close as he tries to calm himself down. He’s gripping your shoulder so hard you feel like he may puncture your skin but you never want him to move it. 

You should be focusing on the fact that he’s crying because he thinks he was mean to you but all you can think about is one thing.

His lips are wet and pink from his tears and his teeth.

You try to ignore it; the urge to kiss him. You try to think about how to comfort him but your arms are still around his waist, it would be so easy to just pull him in…

“Eddie. I don’t mind, I should’ve told you.” You separate from him and he gasps softly. 

“I was actually spending so much time on it for a more selfish reason.” Your heart is racing but not as much as it was the last time you planned to confess. 

How nice he is to you has to mean something, he gives you a ride home every day. That has to mean something. He gives you discounts on weed when you know he makes Gareth pay extra. How upset he is over possibly being mean to you. That has to mean something. The way he’s looking at you right now… That has to mean something. 

“Eddie, I like you.” You shove the words out of your throat, leaving you breathless after they come out. “I- shit.” You looked at him. His face is blank. “I really like you, so much that if you don’t like me back I- I don’t care- We- we can just be friends. We can- I can pretend that this never happened… It’s okay.” You’re a little frantic as you get the words out, nervous at Eddie’s silence. 

You risk a glance at his face and there are tears in his eyes again. “Can I kiss-” He inhales a gasp. “Can I kiss you?” His face is full of wonder like he’s genuinely in disbelief at what’s happening. 

You want to cry. “Yes. Please.” You try not to sound too eager but you’re already taking a step toward him and your hands are reaching for him. 

He’s all over you in an instant, whimpering into your mouth the moment your lips meet. His hands are covering both sides of your face, pulling you into him desperately. He’s twisted you up against his van, his hands moved to your waist to bring you impossibly closer. You pull away with a smile to breathe but Eddie whimpers and leans back into your lips. 

You can’t help the giggle that comes out, breaking the kiss and causing Eddie to whine again. “I thought you wanted to kiss me? Kiss me.” 

“Wait- I’m a-” Eddie pulls back to let you speak, although you can see he wishes he didn’t have to. “Eddie… You like me?” His eyes widen and his face turns red at the question. 

“How is that even a question you’re asking me right now? I- of course, I like you. I can’t believe that you like me.” His voice is gentle as he speaks, tense like he’s waiting for you to change your mind about him. You shake your head with a smile and pull him back in, humming happily as his lips eagerly press into yours. 

You guys left school then, Eddie drives you both to his place and you guys finish the joint on the way. His hand was on your thigh the whole time with that shining, dimpled smile, beaming at the road the entire ride. It was the best ride of your life, it had you thinking about your life with him. 

How much you’d love him. How you’d give him hugs and kisses no matter where you guys were. You thought about how in love you are, it’d be pretty annoying to everyone else but you wouldn’t even care. You know he’d love it too, you’d give you everything you have, had, and ever will have. 

Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[anti-au]

Anti!AU Part THREE — Peri !!!!!

Hey gamers! We finished up Peri's ref!!! So, now it's time to tell you guys all about the periwinkle monster himself!

Collab with @bubbleberryuniverse ! Who has their own au, @petrifiedperi-au ! check it out!

information under the cut! (Warnings for kidnapping, and bullying)

As mentioned in the previous post, Peri was kidnapped as a baby and raised by Anti-Cosmo! Which had some... unintended consequences, that we'll get to later.

When he was younger, Anti-Cosmo had taken his rattle— not to be mean, he did replace it with a regular rattle. This was so Peri could learn how to control his magic without the use of a wand to assist him. Being a fairy baby, born from a wish meant he was POWERFUL. To be able to tap into that without his wand would be terrifying. And he learned quickly. He is able to use magic without his wand pretty well.

However, when he was a kid, he didn't use his magic much when Anti-Cosmo and Irep weren't around. He was content with the things he had, so he never summoned anything, and he had no reason to go anywhere, so poofing around didn't happen. Generally, he just... didn't use his magic unless he needed to. And it started to build up.

His body, being used to having more magic than your normal fairy, took longer to show signs of backing up than any other fairy would— so when they noticed.. it was pretty severe. Almost fatal.

To prevent this from happening again, Anti-Cosmo took his old rattle, which he'd still had, and created a new wand for him. It not only grants magic, but siphons off a little bit from him, passively, to prevent him from backing up again. (How does it work? That's not figured out yet. BUT the siphoned magic is put to use, to add some extra juice to the Anti-Fairy Big Wand.) Because of this, sometimes it feels like there's a 'cap' on his magic.

The wings on the wand do allow it to float, just as a normal fairy wand would.

Now. Peri growing up with Anti-Cosmo means a lot of things for him mentally too. He's not the best father figure for him emotionally, but he's honest with him. He has to be, for this to work. He's also great at giving Peri logical advice, as well as being a great partner for Peri to commit acts of evil with when he's a bit older. We went over this a bit more in depth in this post!

However, I will talk about his relationship with Irep! Because that is important!

When they're babies, there's not much of a relationship. Irep doesn't stick around long enough for them to really connect.. As a baby his feelings were a bit muddled. He couldn't help but pity the poor anti-fairy, whose own father seemingly favored Peri over him, but he also thought he was pathetic, and a bit useless. They had a few playdates, but mostly interacted when Anti-Cosmo was having Irep help him.

They meet up again during Spellementary School. The first sighting is.. hard for Peri. Seeing his parents dropping Irep off to school as if Irep is their son. Wishing him good luck and telling him to have fun— He doesn't know it, but a large part of them wishes it was Peri they were dropping off. The two sit next to each other in class, and it's.. awkward. At first. Irep ignores Peri's attempts to get him to acknowledge him. He doesn't want to remember.

As school progresses, and the older they get, Peri starts to bully Irep. It starts with him doing minor acts around the classroom, like throwing scorpions at the teacher, and blaming Irep. Or saying mean or embarrassing comments about Irep. As they get older, it gets worse.

In their equivalent of middle school, he starts spreading rumors— it's easy, since most of their class doesn't really like Irep already. And Peri, having blamed all of his younger actions on Irep, is pretty well liked. So, the only real friends that Irep have happen to be Sammy Sweetsparkle and..... Peri.

Peri's bullying is fueled by a few things, but it can be summed up with one word: Jealousy. In his eyes, Irep stole his parents. His brother. The life that he was supposed to have— the seemingly perfect life with the perfect little family.

But.. part of him cares about Irep. It cares a lot. And he hates that. He doesn't want to care about him. That fuels his anger even more. He's jealous and he knows he should hate him but he doesn't and he needs to. He feels like he needs to because of Anti-Cosmo.

We will make a post about their relationship later! It'll probably be the next post, their relationship on its own is a rocky bumpy mess that leads into the events of what happens to them as adults! Which... will also be its own post.

[cophene]

Ψ. i'm your good looking classmate.

next chapter || table of contents

pairing : saiki k. x gn, gojo reader summary : because saiki can't seem to catch a break, his homeroom has gotten yet another transfer student. saiki can immediately tell there's something off about them, and that's before they reveal their so-called "six eyes" and "limitless" technique. notes : multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.2k+

Ψ . . . SAIKI’S HOMEROOM WAS CURSED. There was no other way to explain why they got so many transfer students. Saiki counted no less than six transfer students, (Toritsuka hung around so much he might as well have been part of the class) and not one of them could be considered normal. It would have been impressive if they didn’t all cause Saiki so much strife.

Saiki stared impassively ahead as the usual wave of drivel washed over him. It was the usual speculation ahead of a new student: what they might look like, how smart they were, whether they would be single. Saiki cared about none of it. All he wanted from the new transfer student was for them to be blessedly, reassuringly normal. No odd powers. No obnoxious personality. No bizarre looks. Just a regular student he could pass in the halls without triggering a catastrophe.

“Saiki, have you heard about our new transfer student?” Kaido asked. He crossed a hand over his face. “I’ve felt a disturbance in the energy levels of the universe lately. They’re a force to be reckoned with. Their powers might even be on par with mine.”

We have nothing to worry about then, Saiki thought.

“We’re getting another transfer student?” Nendo and Aren crossed over to join Kaido. “It’s pretty late in the year. I wonder where they're from?”

“I feel bad for them. How are they gonna catch up if they have to start over from the first year?” Nendo wondered.

They’re coming from another city, not another grade.

As if on cue, an onslaught of hopeful musings cascaded over Saiki.

Yumehara: I hope they’re cute. We could gush over boys together! They could help me write love notes!

Hairo: The baseball team has been looking for a new member for a while now. Maybe they’d be open to joining. But the soccer team also needs someone. And the swim team. Oh well. I’m sure I could convince them to join all three.

Mera: I’ve eaten nothing but pencil shavings and eraser bits for the past three days. I hope they can share food with me. A meat bun sounds so good right now …

Teruhashi: A new student! There’s nothing like making a first impression on someone. Like a worshipper meeting their goddess for the first time, I’ll be sure to make them fall to their knees!

Saiki’s head ached. He wished the new student would just come already, if only to get everyone to stop thinking about them.

Eventually, the classroom door slid open, and Ms. Shima strode inside. 

“Please return to your seats. Our new student will be arriving shortly.”

The anticipation in the room was stifling. Saiki sighed to himself. Everyone was going to inevitably be let down by the new student, and they would all complain to Saiki about it for the next month. He didn’t know which was worse: everyone being delusional, or everyone being disappointed.

Despite himself, Saiki couldn’t help sending up his own little hope.

I hope they’re normal. Please let them be normal.

Restless minutes ticked by. Just as the room was growing rabid with excitement, a shadow fell through the door of the classroom, and the new student appeared.

“Sorry for being late, everyone. But fear not, your good-looking new transfer student has finally arrived.”

Saiki’s heart sank. He knew instantly that the student who swept into the room would not be normal.

They were lean and agile, going to stand by the teacher’s podium with a self-assured grace. Their hair was a soft white, and a pair of round tinted glasses perched rakishly on their nose. The new student smiled brilliantly when they turned to face everyone, lowering their glasses so their eyes could be seen.

A collective gasp went through the room. There was a thud as someone fainted.

The new transfer student hadn’t been lying. They were inordinately attractive.

Their eyes were the most beautiful anyone had ever seen, wells of pure, cerulean sky. As they took in the room, their eyes seemed to glimmer with their own light. Eyes to be lost in. Eyes to reflect the light of the universe.

Who just thought that? Saiki wondered. You're not Shakespeare, please calm down.

“My name is Gojo Y/N,” the new student said. “I hope you’ll take good care of me.”

“They’re so hot!” everyone squealed, and Saiki winced. Already he was getting images of proposals and marriages and babies with wide, beautiful blue eyes. Gojo grinned, posing this way and that as the class was reduced to a group of adoring fangirls.

Good grief. It hasn’t even been ten minutes.

“Settle down, please, everyone,” Ms. Shima said. She then sidled up next to Gojo, discreetly slipping them a square of paper.

“Call me later,” she whispered, and the class shouted in outrage.

Even the teacher? What have we come to?

Ms. Shima straightened her glasses as though nothing had happened. “Please find a seat, Gojo-san. We need to continue on with our lesson.”

Gojo threw the teacher a jaunty wink, then glided down the aisle to find a seat. Saiki thanked his lucky stars that all of the seats around him were occupied, although it looked as though any of his classmates would happily have sat on the ground if Gojo would only ask. Actually, half of them wouldn’t have minded Gojo sitting on their laps.

Good grief. How am I going to survive with Teruhashi and now Gojo in the same class?

Gojo passed by Saiki’s seat, paying him no special mind. The class internally seethed when the new student found their seat, revealing the lucky seatmate to be Yumehara.

Saiki narrowed his eyes in her direction. That hadn’t been her seat two minutes ago. How fickle seating charts were when a new student arrived.

Yumehara looked up at Gojo, her eyes gleaming. She was trying very hard to maintain her composure.

“Hey, cutie,” Gojo said. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

It was too much. Blood spurted out of Yumehara’s nose, and she fell back in her seat, already halfway to the gates of heaven.

Gojo plopped down, their shoulders shaking with silent laughter. The class proceeded as usual, albeit with more wistful sighs and romantic daydreams than usual. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered, except that something about Gojo nagged the back of Saiki’s mind. He found himself thinking about it all through class, trying to pin it down.

And then, as the bell chimed and they all broke for lunch, Saiki realized.

He hadn’t been able to hear a single one of Gojo’s thoughts.

Unless Gojo was extraordinarily dim or had some sort of telepathy-cancelling device, Saiki couldn't think of any reason why he wouldn't be able to hear their thoughts. Gojo seemed to be smarter than Nendo at least, and only Kusuke could limit Saiki’s abilities. So either Saiki’s abilities were acting up, or something was up with Gojo.

There were few words Saiki dreaded saying more, but drastic times called for drastic measures. 

Toritsuka, I need your help.

Toritsuka stopped in his tracks and gave his purple head a decisive shake. “No.”

No?

“No! Everytime you ask that, I end up having to do something awful! Who are you going to have me impersonate next? Your grandmother?”

It's nothing like that. I just want you to look at the new transfer student’s guardian spirit.

Toritsuka perked up. “Oh, you mean Gojo? They're a hottie, aren't they? Don't tell me you've got your sights on them too.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

Saiki just stared at him. Toritsuka sighed.

“Fine, fine. I was going to check them out anyway.”

They found Gojo in the cafeteria, their table already full of adoring students. Gojo was regaling them all with some story, waving their hands about like a performer.

Toritsuka squinted in Gojo’s direction. His eyes glazed over and a dopey expression crossed his face. Then abruptly, he leapt back, nearly falling over a chair.

Saiki helped him to his feet. What is it?

“Something is up with their guardian spirit,” Toritsuka groaned, rubbing his head. “At first it was this beautiful woman in a brocade coat, the shiniest hair you'd ever seen. And then she turned around and her teeth were pitch black!”

Sounds like something from the Heian era.

“Well, if she can keep her mouth shut, I don't care what era she's from.” Toritsuka grinned.

You are an affront to your ancestors.

“Saiki!” a shrill voice called from across the cafeteria. It was a testament to Gojo’s presence that no one even glanced at Aiura bolting across the room to Saiki and Toritsuka.

“Have you seen the new transfer student?” she demanded breathlessly.

“Yeah, we checked out their freaky guardian spirit just now,” Toritsuka replied.

“Besides that and their godly good looks, have you noticed anything odd about them?”

So Saiki hadn't been imagining things. 

I can't read any of their thoughts. It's strange.

“I could see their aura from out in the hallway,” Aiura said, her eyes wide. 

Toritsuka made a face. “But didn’t you say everyone had an aura?”

Aiura turned to Saiki. “Did you turn off your aura?” 

No.

She crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. It took Saiki a moment to realize.

You could see Gojo’s aura through mine?

“Yes. Theirs doesn’t have as large of a radius, but I can see it through yours, no problem.”

“Is that bad?” Toritsuka asked slowly.

Saiki’s mind was whirring. Was that a bad thing? Gojo was immune to Saiki’s telepathy, had a Heian era guardian spirit, and an aura strong enough to be seen through Saiki’s. They seemed to have no problem attracting people to them, commanding their adoration with almost as much finesse as Teruhashi. None of those things on their own was a problem, but taken together, with those blue eyes …

Toritsuka and Aiura turned to each other at the same time. 

“Do you think—” Aiura squeaked.

“That Gojo could be a psychic?” Toritsuka finished, horrified.

“No, no, no! That’s unacceptable!” Aiura shook her head vehemently. “We are not accepting any more members to the Psychickers!”

Stupid name aside, Saiki was inclined to agree.

“We need to end this before it starts,” Toritsuka said, a strangely menacing look crossing his face.

Aiura cracked her knuckles. “Gojo’s first day is about to be their last.”

Don’t get ahead of yourselves. We don’t even know if Gojo is a psychic.

“Better safe than sorry,” Toritsuka said, and Aiura nodded.

Saiki sighed. Of the three of them, he was the one who should have been the most concerned about Gojo. There were already too many people who knew of Saiki’s abilities; if Gojo did turn out to be a psychic, it was inevitable that they would find out too. While the thought of teleporting Gojo to a remote desert island was tempting, Saiki knew he couldn’t do it. They were already too well-liked, too admired. They had already made plans and commitments to the students here. Removing Gojo would require meddling in practically everyone’s memories, and that was a headache Saiki would rather avoid.

Let me find out if Gojo is a psychic first, Saiki told Toritsuka and Aiura. Then we can go about dealing with them.

Saiki kept a close eye on Gojo for the rest of the day. They continued to be charming and amicable, throwing around their expressive hands and rakish smiles, offering glimpses of their beautiful blue eyes. Saiki could have tolerated their behaviour (since it was never directed towards him). but Gojo’s mind remained stubbornly silent. Not a single thought trickled out to Saiki the entire day. It was one less voice for Saiki to filter out, but he half-hoped he would hear something if only to prove that Gojo was just eccentric and not a psychic.

Maybe Gojo really is just as dim as Nendo. It would certainly save me the trouble.

The final bell of the day rang, and Saiki’s homeroom filed outside. Despite the multiple offers Gojo received to hang out after school, they only waved noncommittally at everyone. They waited until the room was practically empty before they slung their bookbag over their shoulder and slunk out into the hallway, hands jammed into their pockets. Saiki drew his invisibility over himself and followed a safe distance behind.

Gojo bypassed the main entrance, continuing instead deeper into the school. After they had turned the corner and continued forward a couple of feet, Gojo stopped.

“You know, I consider myself a pretty laid-back person, but even I draw the line at being stalked.”

Saiki froze. Was Gojo talking to themself?

They raised an arm and removed their glasses. Slowly, deliberately, they turned around, their eyes flashing.

“Whoever you are,” Gojo said flatly, sounding like an entirely different person, “you have five seconds to show yourself. I don’t appreciate being followed.”

There was no way Gojo could have seen Saiki. He was invisible. And yet, Gojo had no problem staring directly at him. Their eyes seemed bright enough to burn.

They tilted their head. “I wasn’t kidding. If you want me to count, I will. Five … four …”

Saiki clenched his fists. Gojo was bluffing. It didn’t matter what kind of psychic a person was, invisibility could not be seen through.

Gojo’s voice lowered so that it became edged in cool steel. “Three … two ….”

A beat. A slow smile that turned Saiki’s blood to ice.

“One.”

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[ckret2]

also I’ve been reading Flatland: a Romance of Many Dimensions and it’s kinda [Bill voice] hilarious how fucked up that society is. there’s eugenics all over the place. women’s lives are insanely controlled. there’s a whole class of people who are used as classroom displays for children to learn to differentiate angles by touch. the mistreatment of these last two classes of people is broadly seen as okay because they’ve been determined to be too intellectually disabled to matter or care. there’s something new every time you turn the page

It's so messed up right?

I've got a passage coming up in some chapters when the humans get their hands on a copy of Flatland """"Flatworld"""" and I summarize it thus:

Flatworld was a hundred pages of an old-fashioned formal-sounding super boring guy rambling on about the most egregiously evil society Mabel had ever had the horror of reading about.

Society consisted of a bunch of geometric shapes—which in concept sounded half nerdy and half adorable—but they'd made a brutally oppressive government organized by quantity of sides, with infinite-sided circles at the top and three-sided triangles at the bottom, and one-sided lines—women—oppressed into near silence. Career options, educational opportunities, who you could love, were all determined by your sides. Irregular shapes—quadrilaterals that weren't squares, triangles that weren't equilateral, anyone with a side too long or too short—were presumed from birth to be criminally insane. Each generation had sons with one more side than their father—and they had to, because having higher-ranked sons was the only way families could climb out of poverty. When babies were born with too few or irregular sides, poor families abandoned them—or worse—and rich families put them through oft-fatal bone-snapping surgeries to regularize or increase their sides. Knowledge of the third dimension was considered heretical, and anybody claiming it was real was locked in an insane asylum.

I deliberately left out some of the atrocities—the treatment of isosceles triangles, the classroom displays—on the grounds that I'm just trying to lightly summarize a story-within-a-story and details like that would introduce complexities and necessitate explanations that would detract more than they contribute to the "oh this place is fucked UP" message.

So like. The above is SIMPLIFIED. There's MORE THAN THAT. Wild.

(And then Mabel looks across the room and goes "how much of this is true???" and Bill goes "it depends, how much of it needs to be true for you to decide my tragic backstory completely justifies my evil ways?")

[britcision]

In honour of a combo Wednesday and then post-midnight Yule, have a WIP Wednesday friends! We haven’t seen Sam for a while and Hanukkah was early this year (finished on the 15) but we are here now!

This chapter’s already gotten intense as hell for Danny and Jason with Lady Gotham but we’ve been tragically without our resident fashionable goth (sorry not sorry Bruce) and we are definitely still a muppet movie, so enjoy Sam-Miss-Piggy creating some extra chaos behind the scenes 👀

No promises about how regular these updates will be because again, plot chapter, I like letting those drop without spoiling the reveals too much, but we shall see

——————

Chapter 18 part i So That Just Happened

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole two timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and double major, and only drop to major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

——————

And in at the last minute, Jazz! We’ll see if she shows up in person this chapter, I’m hoping it’ll be the last big lore dump before the first plot arc begins but We Shall See…

Chapter 20 is right around the corner though, and I like my divisibles of 5 so I miiiiight shoot for that Red Hood Reveal then… 👀

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291

[streaminn]

This can be for after you’ve got rest and don’t feel burnt out!

T&T - how would Enid react if she were to walk into class to see that Joel took her regular seat next to Wednesday?

"hey," is the only warning Enid gives as she stands right infront of him. The look she has is unamused as she looks down at the intruder "you're on my seat."

Wednesday pauses in her reading and Enid can see the way she stills and begins to watch her from the corner of her eye.

There's an itch in Enid's chest when Joel gives a beaming smile at her, his arm is too close to her seatmate, her roomie.

Did Wednesday not..?

No.

Wednesday never let's others sit with her, atleast not willingly so did she simply allow this Aidenn scu- the realization that Wednesday simply let this be hurts, it stings at her heart and it makes Enid tense her jaw.

"sorry sorry," Joel laughs, waving his hand. "I just wanted to catch up and since the seat was empty.."

There is no one talking in the classroom and Enid can feel the way they stare, waiting for a reaction.

So Enid rolls her shoulders and bares her teeth right back. It looks like a smile, it's anything but that. "No worries," she chirps and her hand reaches over to Wednesday, an offering. "I think you need the seat closer to the front anyways, considering that you have glasses."

Something warm curls in Enid when Wednesday dips her head in such a way that she knows is a sigh before folding her book and shouldering her bag.

Good, Enid thinks and her fingers tighten around the cold hand of her Wednesday. I didn't know what I'd do if Wednesday decided to be stubborn and stay with him.

He's saying something and Enid honestly doesn't have enough fucks to tune him in, so she watches his cheap attempts at waving goodbye.

Pathetic, he's floundering like a fish out of water.

It reminds her so much of someone. The way he shifts and fidgets, it's annoying.

We could make his sight worse? It giggles and Enid's fingers twitch. A lil slice across the eyes, so he can't see anymore opportunities..

Maybe next time, Enid notes as she leads Wednesday to the emptier seats in the back. There's disappointment after her words and groans of killjoy! And you're no fun float around her head.

When they're all done and settles, Enid watches the way Wednesday props up her book once more, somehow finding her page without a bookmark. They aren't holding hands anymore, the shorter girl having let go and already the wolf misses it.

"what was your convo?" Enid prods, always so nosy. Does he excite you, Wednesday? Is spineless men your type? Tell me dear, tell me all.

Wednesday doesn't answer any of that. Instead she huffs through her nose and slams her book shut to give a piercing stare. She's beautiful like this, when her brows are a tiny bit furrowed and she looks like she's frustrated.

What a pretty roomie Enid has.

"next time," Wednesday starts. "arrive sooner so I don't have to entertain such happenstance."

Enid leans close, crossing her arms on the table to bump it towards Wednesday. She doesn't move back because ofcourse she doesn't, Enid is special. She's already accepted her and there's no take backs!

Enid is aware that someone is staring at them.

"just say you missed me Wends." finally there's a smile on the wolf's face and everything is right where it should be.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Wednesday lies, fixing her posture in a way that it pushes against Enid.

Blue eyes flicker to the upset frown of Joel Glicker and Enid shrugs, her lips pulling up to showcase teeth as she reached over for Wednesday's hand.

She didn't need to do a thing before their fingers intertwine.

[the-clari-net]

i'll be dead before the day is done

Ao3

“Danny, aren’t you the literal Ghost King slash Prince slash whatever? Can’t you just make her go away?”

“If I could, I already would’ve,” Danny hissed back. “This isn’t fun for me to see either.”

Sam growled, as the Banshee’s weeping continued in the back of the classroom. Dash and Kwan in the back looked like they were about to pass out or deck her in the face. No one really blames them.

The Banshee coming to Amity Park was a new development for everyone. At first, she appeared as any other regular oddity that occurs in the ghostly town. A woman singing down the streets with her long dark hair covering her face in an old green dress wouldn’t arouse much suspicion in the town. That is, until she made it to the elderly care home.

Once there, the details get scrambled for everyone who heard of the incident later. Some recollect her approaching an old woman in a corner of the recreational area, another claims that they saw her approaching one of the young receptionists. Truthfully, no one knows who she was here for. And it really didn’t matter once she started screaming.

It was a terrifying yell that resulted in all nearby windows shattering, and several people fainted from the shock and pain to their ears.

In the end, two people died, both elderly. Whether it was through the shock of the woman’s scream or through natural causes, it’s hard to say.

Since then, she’s been seen around. Not often, and not for every death. Oddly enough, when investigations on the death were concluded, it resulted that she doesn’t seem to be the cause of the deaths. It’s akin to an eerie canary in mines; a warning rather than a cause. The police are in the process of figuring out her pattern and tracking her behaviors, but it’s still quite perplexing.

Phantom once tried to talk to her, but she completely ignored him, which is an odd approach for a spirit. Danny knows his role as future king in the Ghost Zone makes his presence noticeable to say the least and impossible to ignore to most ghosts. She never even glanced in his direction. He became concerned with it a week after her arrival and decided to do his own investigation on her.

He found his answer with the Ghost Writer. 

“Ahh, yes The Banshee,” Ghost Writer says to himself while moving some of his manuscripts into some infinite filing cabinet that Danny avoids looking at to prevent a headache. Too many dimensions in a tiny space is not something his human brain is capable of processing well.  

Ghost Writer continues, “She’s untamable. Think of her as a grim reaper of sorts. No one’s really been able to track down what her logic is to be quite honest. No one wants to be exposed to her wailing long enough to figure out,” he shrugged.

“So… I shouldn’t worry about her being in my town?”

“Wait, what?” Ghost Writer fumbles with his manuscripts and turns his entire focus onto Danny. “She’s in your haunt?”

Hesitantly, the boy nods.

“Well, I’ll be damned…I thought you just wanted to talk on an educational level, kid. This is more serious and bigger than I expected it to be.”

Danny scoffs a little at that, “Bigger than fighting Pariah Dark? I’m not sure I can go bigger than that. I mean, the town’s been sent to the Ghost Zone, how much worse than that could it be?”

“I’m just saying, if she’s in some place, that usually means a big death is bound to come. You might want to brace yourself.”

After that discussion, Danny stayed a bit to help with Ghost Writer’s endless organizing before heading home to think.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t given much time to think because the following day, Danny arrived at school to see the Banshee crying in his homeroom.

At this point, all Danny knows is that this Banshee has been weeping in his classroom this morning, and he’s been a nervous wreck all day. If Ghost Writer says that it’s going to be a big death, then it has to be his class that’s in danger. Danny’s not the only one struggling. The entire class has been silent, trying desperately to ignore her crying in the corner and focusing on their work. It hasn’t been very effective.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Their teacher ignores it, when suddenly the door blasts open and in enters two men in white uniforms and government issued ectoweapons.

Danny’s heart freezes. The Banshee’s weeping is becoming louder.

“Daniel James Fenton, you are to come with us immediately to be decontaminated. We have collected months’ worth of evidence, indicating that you are in danger of ectocontamination, and will be taken into custody by order of the United States Government.”

“What?! No!”

“Son, this is not a request. Our scanners are going off the charts at the amount of ectoplasm in your body. You are a danger not only to yourself but your peers.”

There’s more jargon being said but Danny can’t hear anything. Blood is thundering in his ears. His breathing is shaky, his hands have clenched, ready to fight something.

Danny can’t go, they’ll find out everything about him, they’ll try to cut him open, they’ll kill him.

“I said…no.” Danny’s eyes begin to glow green and the temperature in the room suddenly drops.

The Banshee’s crying becomes more hysterical. 

“This isn’t ectocontamination, this is body possession! Set your blaster to stun!” yells one of the agents.

A noise goes off and Danny’s body lurches back, and his vision blacks out for a moment. However once it comes back, he turns towards the agents. They’re pale, and their weapons have fallen on the ground. He then looks towards his classmates who look at him in horror.

Danny looks down where their eyes are pointing, and he sees a massive hole where his core used to be.

Oh.

Danny feels his vision dim, and his body collapses, unable to move.

The last thing he senses as he falls into oblivion are the Banshee’s screams.

[shall-we-go-far-away]

alright, I know, I'm late to the party because it's been literal days but here are we are ready to talk about ep. 7+8:

do you all know that football meme, that "they had us in the first half"-meme? that's how I felt after the first 17 minutes of ep. 7... my lord I was so sure jihyun was fine and then they pull this shit on us I was genuinely scared.. so thanks to jaewon for putting me out of my misery by saying he just almost died

I was actually kind of shocked that something genuinely serious happened, because I thought it would be enough for jaewon to back away from jihyun if there was just the tiniest possibility of him getting hurt but I guess we went the drastic way, anyways I'm really glad he's alive

also seeing what the accident did to jaewon was so painful to watch.. he looked so bad and to see how his "friends" just glossed it over and being like: "oh I'm glad you're back to your regular self" like wtf are you saying, do you see him?? he was barely present the entire time, literally just a shadow of himself

we literally only saw his impression change twice - both times involving jihyun - once, when he's about to punch taehyung and the second time when jihyun speaks about his behavior in the surf club

what I also liked was how hard jaewon tries to get jihyun away from him but when they properly meet again in front of the classroom he can't even say no to jihyun asking to talk

well, back to the seniors.. they - emphasis on eunji and taehyung - are still assholes like wow you really don't even have the slightest bit of empathy left in you, have you? I found it pretty crazy how well you could tell in these episodes that neither eunji nor taehyung actually care for jaewon like at all, it feels like they see him as a trophy to carry around and show off and boost their egos with

that being said, I'm so glad taehyung got punched and eunji got absolutely devoured by jihyun, serves them right

taehyung is just so insensitive and childish, he makes me go insane, what was he expecting when he said that about jihyun? that people would clap?? no you idiot, be glad jaewon didn't break a bone or two

and eunji?? is she not embarrassed? her entire behavior is so embarrassing oh my god.. I know she can tell that jaewon doesn't want to be with her because she's not stupid, she just doesn't want to accept it, she can't accept being rejected and left and - what's even worse for her - she can't accept being left by jaewon for another man and I get it, it kinda sucks but you gotta face reality at some point, babes

and considering all that, it's so funny to watch how jihyun gets her blood boiling by simply existing, like she hates him so much and it's so amusing because jihyun couldn't care less, he just doesn't care

so the whole scene of them in the park was so satisfying to watch because with how the characters are positioned - eunji standing and jihyun sitting - and with the camera angle - looking up to eunji and down on jihyun- it's supposed to seem like she is above jihyun and then he just complety verbally destroys her because she already came into the conversation insecure, trying to cover it up by provoking jihyun but just didn't work

I genuinely believed in her redemption arc but at this point I don't think that's happening anymore

alrighty, next up, how sassy did jihyun get after literally almost drowning?? I really liked how he was joking around with his friends talking back to them and all that

and seeing his determination to get jaewon back was great, like he's better than me because I could never, he has a goal and he wants to achieve it

the thing that also stuck with me was him saying "I want to heal his wounds." which we all know he said with good intentions but I think jihyun also has to learn that the only person able to heal jaewon's wounds is jaewon himself, yes he can be there for him and be his support system but jaewon has to want this himself

I also really liked that we saw more of joon pyo in these episodes and he could redeem his "annoying childhood best friend"-image.. he's just a really sweet guy who, yes, is a bit much and a little awkward at times, but he has a good heart and really cares for jihyun

now onto the last bits of ep. 8: that hurt, it really hurt.. I get why jaewon pushed him away, I really do but that was not it, bestie.. I wanted to give jihyun a hug so bad

but honestly even though that was quite painful and I think jihyun might be a little thrown off, I think he's gonna keep pushing.. he was so sure about getting his man back I don't think he's stopping now

what I'm saying is, I hope they get back together and we get a happy ending on wednesday because otherwise.. well idk what I'd do otherwise