#some people take it way too seriously but to each their own i guess

[kestrelteens]

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[a-kaash-me-outside]

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto. 

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you. 

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.” 

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back. 

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in. 

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs. 

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable. 

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest. 

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin. 

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you. 

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?” 

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door. 

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient. 

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body. 

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait. 

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure. 

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration. 

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence. 

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now. 

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils. 

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question. 

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope. 

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think. 

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less. 

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view. 

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates. 

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes. 

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer. 

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest. 

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left. 

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me. 

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated. 

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along. 

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now. 

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?” 

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that. 

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want. 

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever. 

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it. 

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee. 

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee. 

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee. 

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee. 

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee. 

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt. 

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead. 

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful. 

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either. 

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession. 

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too. 

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too. 

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too. 

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again. 

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says. 

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips. 

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body. 

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs. 

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat. 

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act. 

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall. 

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?” 

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out. 

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure. 

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this. 

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out. 

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys. 

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen. 

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes. 

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere. 

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked. 

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?” 

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs. 

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face. 

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering. 

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost. 

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs. 

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together. 

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur. 

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree. 

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?” 

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow. 

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence. 

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump. 

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask. 

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not. 

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement. 

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before. 

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile. 

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak. 

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about. 

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree. 

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response. 

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh. 

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy. 

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case. 

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop. 

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word. 

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky. 

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too. 

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are. 

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles. 

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time. 

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you. 

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop. 

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back. 

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety. 

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur. 

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter. 

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates. 

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder. 

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

[goldsainz]

GUESS WHO’S BACK? — one shot.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader

MASTERLIST.

NOTE: first of i wanna say that this is not meant to diminish the treatment nyck got bc it is undoubtedly shitty (helmut marko you will pay for your crimes), i am just happy one of my fav drivers is back. this is eminem!daughter!reader an idea @lorarri let me use, all the lyrics and song she came up with are fantastic, i couldn’t have made this without them, so thank you lola!!!!

liked by danielricciardo, eminem and 3,082,719 others

yourusername i am so excited to announce my newest album “BADGER BEWARE”!! this project has been in the making for quite some time, it has the help of people i am very close with. and inspirations behind a lot of impacting moments in my life. which is why i am so happy that it is finally here and you can all enjoy it july 13th

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ynfan1 oh this is so about daniel

ynfan2 NEW MUSIC FINALLY😭😭

danielricciardo 💛💛💛

liked by yourusername and 96,053 others

⤷ danielfan1 acting as if the album isn’t gonna be dedicated to him

icespice gonna be bomb 🔥

scottyjames31 Claiming track 3 right now

⤷ danielricciardo No, it’s already claimed. Pick another.

ynfan3 july 13th cannot come any sooner

danielfan2 i hope y/n knows that she just sent me into cardiac arrest

danielfan3 MONZA MASH??? YOU’RE TELLING ME SHE MADE A SONG FOR HIS WIN IN MONZA

ynfan4 thank you eminem for the blessing that is y/n🙏

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yourusername “BADGER BEWARE” is out now in all streaming platforms! i wanna take a moment to thank all the people who made this album possible, to the man who inspired this project and sat with me until sunrise writing down lyrics, to my friends who participated and helped me push through, but especially to all my fans who waited patiently for me to release my music in my own time. have fun and pls don’t take what i talk about too seriously (or do 😉)

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danielricciardo I would sit until sunrise every day with you

⤷ yourusername love the sentiment but you were asleep 90% of the time

⤷ danielricciardo But I was still there!

ynfan21 RED WINGS IS WILD

ynfan22 album of the year!!!

danielfan21 oh so this is a diss track to mclaren…

redbullracing Our playlist has been updated!

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ynfan23 when we needed her most she appeared🙏

ynfan24 damn she did not hold back

danielfan22 DANIEL AND Y/N BEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

“Show-stopping” is the expression Y/N wants to convey each time she sits down and starts to write her songs. It is a “big word”, as she puts it, but there is no other word that would fit the feeling she hopes to transmit through her music.

“I started writing “BADGER BEWARE” back in 2021, I think around august, and by the end of that year I had written 3 songs. I stopped writing because I thought of either scrapping the whole project or making a 4-5 song EP. Obviously that didn’t end up happening because now there are 10 songs, 1 intro and 1 outro. All those songs hold a different place in my heart and while they all form part of the genre of Rap, they’re heartfelt in their own special way.”

Rap is a genre Y/N is all too familiar with. With her father being Eminem, an icon to the genre and the 2000s — even now. She says that the choice is not arbitrary, that there is an influence she cannot deny, but chooses to embrace it rather than push it away.

She dedicated the album to her boyfriend of 3 years, Daniel Ricciardo, who was the initial inspiration behind it. “Danny listened to me rant about my ideas for hours, sat in different studios with me and suggested different things that made the whole experience different than anything I’d ever done before. He also introduced me to — now one of my good friends — Charles Leclerc, who plays piano and is the one that composed the music for both the intro and outro.”

When asked about her favourite songs she picked a couple because “there is no way I could choose just one”. There is an evident passion to her craft when it comes to Y/N, something not everyone in her field possesses quite as well as she does.

“HONEY, RED WINGS and SUMMER SMILE are probably my top 3. They were all written at such drastically different points of my life, about things that have practically nothing to do with each other but that are tied by a little string. Some people think I pick my singles because they’re my favourite, which is true because all my songs are my favourites! But most of all I pick them because they’re the ones that I felt most comfortable publicising, all the other songs in the album are like a little secret between my fandom and me.

“There are also songs which are more personal. MONZA MASH, for example, it’s a very hyper song but it still is about an event that was very emotional. TEARS OF THE SUN, is also an obvious one. My songs are about something, and if it makes you feel anything at all then I did my job right.”

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!

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yourusername 2 THE MAX MV IS HERE!! i heard it was a fan favourite and had to deliver… there is no way to express my gratitude to you all for the support the album has gotten, so i guess this is my way!

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ynfan31 MY FAV SONG YES

⤷ danielfan31 “i turn up the heat to the max and watch them bitches squirm” ATE THAT SHIT UPPP

ynfan32 y/n mathers?? MORE LIKE Y/N MOTHER

danielricciardo She’s wearing red, next question!

⤷ yourusername LMAO??

⤷ maxverstappen1 Let him be, he’s a bit jet-lagged

ynfan33 literally fell down the stairs bc of this announcement

danielfan32 forget daniel… I WANT HER

ynfan34 as a y/n fan i am more than amazed at the amount of content we’re getting😭

ynfan35 it suddenly got real hot

⤷ ynfan36 we call that “the y/n effect”

ynfan37 LITERALLY RUN ME OVER!!!!!!

[fairytoge]

dating headcanons ; k.choso, z.naoya

notes!!

this only took me like,,, four months to complete this 😭 but i hope you enjoy!!

other parts ; n.kento, g.satoru, g.suguruㅤi.yuuji, f.megumiㅤi.toge, o.yuuta

m.list

k.choso

the loml choso (not including all the other lomls)!!

but anyway!!! choso is an absolute sweetheart, as long as you're not fighting against him in a battle or anything

he 10000% would do pretty much anything and everything to make you happy or to just make you smile

he loves you sm it makes other people cringe... you two are definitelyyy the couple people see in public and slightly grimace at because they're so in love

he'd probably do subtle pda but if you don't like that sort of stuff, he wouldn't do it!! he loves you too much to make you uncomfortable and push your boundaries

he's basically like a typical gentleman?? like when people say that men aren't like how they used to be, choso is their ideal man!!!

summary: he's so in love and whipped for you

but it's vvvvv endearing!!!

i think, as soon as you two begin officially seeing each other, he'll want to introduce you to his brothers and get their opinion on you too

they mean the world to him and he would probably love nothing more than for the people he loves most to also be friends!!

someone help me the older brother issues are realll

but yeah, he's just a sweetheart and would worship you like a god if you asked him to <3 (he does that without you asking 🤭)

choso would also go along with whatever you say 99% of the time!! the 1% off is when it endangers you lmao

if you call him some dumb nickname or do the trend where you call a s/o the most random things, he will genuinely take it as a compliment so seriously that it makes your heart hurt

he's a bitttt naive, but you love him!! and he definitely loves you omg

z.naoya

i hate his personality but he's hot 😔 so!! this is gonna be kind of ooc for him icl

dating naoya issss.... interesting? he's got a unique character for sure

realistically, you probably wouldn't see him that often assuming that he's a full-time sorcerer and you are a housewife (or househusband!!)

but, the times that you do see him, you are both so sappy and touchy with each other, no matter who or what is around

naoya is spoiled, so it doesn't come as a surprise to know that he has always been able to get what he wants, and that nothing has changed since he was a child

with this in mind, he would definitely not be shy about pda, unless you're both in a proper environment like a clan meeting i guess...

he probably wouldn't even let you in there though 😭 his superiority complex is off the charts

pleaseee start training him to not act like a creep

leading on from this!! naoya would treat you like a princess if you're both truly in love, and would stop at nothing to get you what you want!

you mentioned that you would like the garden to be redesigned so that you can plant more flowers? done! the kitchen isn't to your standards? it's gone before you can look at it for another second!

suddenly you understand why he is the way he is, because if this is the life he's been living, it's 100% worth it lmao

i also feel like naoya has tunnel vision for you!!

like, let's say that he's come home from exorcising a curse, or from a particularly hard mission, and being more impolite to the servants than normal as he literally hunts you down in your own home

he lowkey scares you but not in a bad way?? he's just kind of intimidating sometimes, without meaning to be!

overall, naoya would probably be a good s/o to have!! as long as he loves you 😭

© fairytogeㅤ ꔫㅤ please do not copy, repost, translate, etc without my permission

[verysium]

how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

[obsessedwithpedritoofc]

Oᴜʀ Wɪɴᴅᴏᴡ (Jᴏᴇʟ Mɪʟʟᴇʀ)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Joel Miller × Male Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: After saving Ellie, Joel and her went back to Jackson. They established themselves pretty quickly —actually from the very first day after they arrived, Joel was already going on patrol. You were one of the many friends they made, or at least you were friends until the day Joel invited you to have a drink at his place.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 10ish age gap (i guess?), awkward flirting, teeth rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol, smut, fighting for dominance, masturbation, blowjob, riding, rough sexy joel, no physical descriptions of reader (just slight allusion to him being shorter than joel), no use of Y/N. (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: im so bad at writing smut pls dont hold that against me :( and well happy bday to me. enjoy <3

𝕡𝕥 𝕚: 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚: 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚𝕚: 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕨

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

"I'll go see you when Ellie and I are back".

"Right. See ya tomorrow".

"See ya".

You replayed the conversation you'd had with Joel the previous night once more, his voice sweet as honey resounding in your head as you searched down a house you and Ellie had found on your patrol. She could tell you weren't paying attention to anything, too absentminded to even care about patrolling. She had already told you to get your shit together and search things down properly.

"Yeah, sorry", had been your answer. But you were too busy thinking about Joel and what awaited you that night. So Ellie was constantly behind you, calling your attention when you missed something and picking it up herself when she got bored of that.

They had been living in Jackson for more than half a year, and Joel and Ellie had already made a name of themselves. Especially Ellie was very liked in between the people of town, while Joel just did his job and tried to keep her safe —though she was doing pretty much everything on her own— without attracting much attention, which made many people in town talk about him and his low profile. Maybe that was something you ended up liking of him as well: his only purpose was to protect his daughter. It was actually one of the things that made you like him back before breakout, and the fact that he was still just as a caring father as before, despite having grown cold and a little depressed, touched your heart in a deep, beautiful way.

The first days you talked with him when he got back to Jackson had been a little uncomfortable, since you were just starting to know each other. He tried to be funny, and he was, but when you tried to be funny you seemed to touch something inside him that he didn't like too much. That was until he told you about Sarah. You already knew some things of her from what Tommy had told you, and Joel told you how her loss brought him to a point of wanting to end his life... And then he told you that he didn't tell anyone about that part of him, that he trusted you enough as to keep it between you two and never use it against him.

He trusted you with his life.

Looking back to all that, you thought there was no way you didn't know he liked you. You were the only one —aside from Ellie and Tommy— who he talked, really talked with. Seriously, how could you have been so blind?

From that day on, he started taking your jokes a little less seriously and laughing with you. He also told you a lot of things about how Sarah was and how they had their life back in Austin.

Shit, is this kid really dead?, you used to think. You could see how Joel talked about her so happily, and you would've liked to meet her. In times like this you regretted the most not introducing yourself to them the day you moved to the neighborhood.

You also went on patrols together —from the very second day he and his kid came back, actually. You usually spent your patrol time immersed in a comfortable silence. Many times you even sat to eat and drink something together as you admired the landscape. Especially this time of year it was all more beautiful, covered in snow. It was one of the reasons why you loved winter. And getting to enjoy it all with him gave you the most satisfaction you had ever felt. If only you could get what you wanted most and feel his heat in the midst of all the cold—

"Hey", Ellie called you again. "Ammo", she tossed a box of rifle bullets in your direction. You almost didn't catch it.

"Shit, thanks".

I'll leave those thoughts for tonight, you said to yourself.

After that, you were finally able to put an ounce of actual concentration into patrolling and started searching the house thoroughly. Ellie looked proud, as if she had done all the job by herself, and as if getting you to finally focus had been her doing. In part it was, but you wouldn't let her get away with it and tell Joel that the mission had been a success thanks to her because you had been all the time thinking about him. Maybe, just maybe, you would affirm it if things got further that night.

"It's getting late", Ellie said when you exited the house after a while, looking at the sky getting darker. "Maybe we should go back".

"Yeah, you're right", you looked at the sky as well. "Wanna take the reins this time?", you smiled at the girl.

"Fuck yeah!".

She ran to the horse and saddled him immediately after you said that. She patted his neck a couple times to make sure he was ready to trot back to Jackson. Then you mounted and held onto the girl's arms for some support. She was able to take you both back to town, riding the horse like you had taught her earlier that day. Man, you had never felt so proud of something.

It was almost completely night dark when you finally got back to Jackson. You accompanied Ellie to let the horse back into the stables and made sure she got home safe, then you went straight to Joel's.

You had to knock on the door a couple times before he opened. His hair was even messier than usual and he could barely open his eyes.

"Gosh", you blurted out almost automatically at the surprise. "Mornin', princess", you laughed. So did Joel.

"Sorry", he tried to fix his hair as better as he could and rub the tiredness off his eyes. "Couldn't sleep tonight, was doin' it now".

"Too excited to try out that wine, huh?", you mocked at him.

"Sure, yeah", he chuckled again, leaning on the doorframe. "How was patrol? Did Ellie behave herself?".

"Y'could say that", now you chuckled. "She tells ya anythin' 'bout me bein' off, 's not true", you gave him a sly smile.

"I'll give ya the benefit of the doubt", he smiled back. "Wanna come in? Y'look like you're freezin' ".

"Nah, 's good. Gonna go take a shower n' then we can go grab dinner. Sound good?".

"Yeah. Can ya get home on your own?".

"I think I'll manage", you said with a mocking tone. "Though it'd be nice havin' ya make sure I make it to the canteen later", you crossed your arms.

"Gotcha", he smiled at you.

You found yourselves again immersed in a comfortable silence. None of you said nothing for a while, as you were both staring into the other's eyes and scanning your features. When your eyes met again you realized this had happened before, but it was no longer uncomfortable, so you smiled at each other once more.

"I'll see ya later", Joel was the first to speak.

"Yeah", you stepped away from the door. "See ya later", you smiled at him one last time before walking away.

The first thing you did when you got to your house was taking off your clothes and stepping into the shower. The hot water burned your freezing body for a moment before feeling nicely warm. You let out a heavy sigh, your hands and legs shaking in anticipation. You were so happy that things with Joel had gotten better, and you only hoped they wouldn't get worse that night.

You put on the most decent clothes you could find —which weren't too hot, but it was the best you had. Deep inside you, you were hoping Joel's clothes wouldn't be much better than yours, though you knew he'd look good anyway.

A knock on your door made you jump for a moment. You finished putting on your pants and immediately went to open it for Joel. 

Man, did he look better than you expected.

He was wearing the same green plaid shirt he had on when he first came to Jackson a year or so ago. He had fixed his hair a little, not losing its usual subtle dishevelment. He had put on the pair of boots you had given him a couple days before and some jeans that made him look even better.

"Wow", the word escaped your lips involuntarily. You immediately realized and cleared your throat. "Wanna come in? Gotta put on my boots n' I'm ready to go".

Joel seemed too busy inside his own world —in which he was scanning you and thinking of taking all those nice clothes off of you— to answer when you first asked.

"Joel?", you called him again. This time he looked int your eyes and cleared his own throat before coming inside.

"Sure, sorry".

You sat on the couch and started putting your boots on.

"Didn't think you'll take that wear somethin' nice shit so seriously", you chuckled nervously. You tried to hide the way your hands were shaking at the fact that Joel was in your house, and you were later going to be in his.

"You're not bad yaself", he leaned back on the wall and crossed his arms.

"Fuck, I feel like a teenager", you whispered to yourself. "Doesn't that happen to ya?".

"Yeah, been feelin' like that all day", he chuckled. 

"Ain't that a bit stupid?", you looked up at him.

"I dunno. I mean, we're just havin' a drink, but... If we're both feelin' the same, then it can't be that stupid, right?", his logic made you laugh.

"Alright", you checked your boots before getting up from the bed and looking up at him. "Then I won't feel stupid", you walked towards the door. "D'we go?".

"Sure", Joel nodded. Hell, he liked you even more than he thought.

This time, you spent the whole time —walking to the canteen and eating dinner— talking with each other. In fact, Ellie had to come to you two to say goodnight even before you were halfway through your food. Neither of you gave it much importance and just kept doing your thing.

After dinner you went straight to Joel's, like he had said the night before. You took a seat beside him on the couch as he opened the first bottle of wine. You clinked your glasses and took the first sip together. You both had the same reaction: your noses crinkled and you pursed your lips before swallowing. Then you looked at each other as if saying "It's not that bad". Joel took it as a sign to pour one more glass for you both, and you gulped it down again.

"I prefer Tommy's whiskey, but this ain't half bad", he said.

"Shit, Tommy", you covered your face with both of your hands. "Forgot to talk to him today", you grunted.

"What happened with Tommy?", he looked at you with frowned brow.

"Uh... 'S a long story, jus'...", you stopped talking. "Can I ask ya somethin'?".

Joel nodded.

"What made ya wanna ask me to come have a drink at your place?", you leaned back on the couch.

"Um...", a light was turned on inside his head. "Tommy talked to me", he chuckled in disbelief. "I see where this's goin' ".

"That fucker...", you laughed and crossed your arms. "Well, long story short, I gave him shit for tellin' ya...", you stopped again and cleared your throat. 

Joel didn't say anything, once again. You both knew what you were doing there, but didn't say a word to not make things uncomfortable.

But that is why you were there. To push things further, as uncomfortable as they could be.

You left your glass on the coffee table in front of you and turned to Joel. He looked scared for a moment, but then looked back into your eyes, leaving his glass on the coffee table, too.

"Can we stop bein' awkward n' talk 'bout what we're both thinkin'?", you said with all the seriousness you could pull out. "D'you like me, Joel?", you tried to say it slowly to not give him a stroke. Joel thought for a moment.

"S' it weird if I do?", he held back a smile. You chuckled.

"Well, 's it weird that I like ya?".

"A lil' weird, yeah", he chuckled as well.

"Then yeah, 's a lil' weird that ya like me", you laughed together. "Luckily for you, I like weird", you smiled at him.

"Luckily?", he chuckled and sat closer to you. "You're the lucky one for havin' me to protect your back".

"Y'mean the way ya did back at the village a couple days ago, when you almost got bitten at that cabin? Or before that, when I had to warn ya 'bout infected up ahead 'cause you're too deaf to hear?", you also sat closer to him.

"Ya ain't lettin' go o' that, are ya?".

"Well, you almost got yaself killed that day, so—".

He stamped his lips on yours to keep you from talking any more, his hands moving up your arms to reach your face. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself and stop shaking, fighting against the rough beating of your heart. But it all went down when his tongue inside your mouth made you melt even more, and you couldn't help but to moan at the feeling. You hadn't kissed anyone in so long, it felt... good. Soothing. Warm...

"Shit, I didn't mean to get ya goin' like that", Joel's voice brought you back to reality. It took you a moment to process what he had said, then you realized your pants were starting to get a little too tight.

"Fuck!", you whispered. You also realized you were sitting on his lap. You tried to move away. "Goddammit, I'm sorry, didn't mean t—".

"Hey, 's okay", he grabbed your hips to pull you back onto his lap. "I'm the same".

You gulped. Your hand moved on its own until reaching his pants. You touched his groin in curiosity, then you felt it.

He was hard. And he was hard because of you.

"God...", he threw his head back. "Don't ya think we gotta do somethin' 'bout it?", he stared into your eyes. You couldn't hold back a smirk.

"How long's it been for ya?", you started undoing his jeans.

"Hey now", he grabbed your hands before you could go any further. "This couch is so hard, we should go somewhere more comfortable", he smirked, too.

"I like how ya think", you got off his lap. "Lead the way".

You didn't expect him to grab your hand to lead you to his bedroom, your heart jumping at his touch. Still, you returned it with no hesitation.

As soon as you entered the room, he grabbed you by the jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue attacking your mouth and tearing another moan off your throat. He groaned as well and threw you onto the bed somewhat softly.

"Ya make such sweet sounds...", he grunted before kissing you again. You grabbed his arms and rolled on top of him.

"I thought ya said somethin' 'bout solvin' your problem".

"I said—", he rolled back on top of you. "We should do somethin' 'bout it", he started undoing your pants. "Been all night wantin' to take these damn things off o' ya".

"Damn, your old man libido's gotta be hella high if you're—".

Joel's hand inside your underwear made you gasp loudly, half in surprise and half in pleasure. He smirked, taking that as a sign to keep going. He slide your pants and underwear down your legs and tossed them somewhere on the bedroom's floor. His fingers wrapped around your hard dick, making you gasp again. That gasp turned into moans as soon as he started moving his hand in slow movements. You found yourself clinging to his arms with nails and all as your hips bucked into his touch, seeking more of it.

"How long's it been for ya?", he repeated your question from before.

"Too... Too long", you managed to say between moans. Joel chuckled.

"Good thing's not gonna be too long anymore", he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "Told ya you're lucky to have me, didn't I?", he quickened the pace of his movement.

"Joel...", you thrusted you hips farther into his hand, your head thrown back in pleasure.

"Don't get too ahead of yaself".

He moved his hands away to give way to his mouth. His lips wrapped around your dick and his tongue swirling over the tip gave you goosebumps. Your fingers tangled in his hair and pressed him lower onto your member with a loud moan. You shut your eyes closed when your head was again thrown back at the sudden pleasure. Joel stopped his ministrations and grabbed your jaw to put your head back down.

"Eyes on me", he ordered. You didn't dare to disobey him, his voice —though sweet as honey, like it always was— being too intimidating and demanding for you to even think about it.

It didn't take long until you were begging him for release. His darkened eyes never left yours as he kept bobbing his head and swiping his tongue around your dick. You tried to take control of the situation, take his head and thrust into his mouth, but he didn't let you. Instead, he grabbed your hips to keep you still and moved his head even faster. He only had to groan once to send vibrations up your body and make you cum as hard as you never had.

That was the best blowjob someone had ever given you.

You stayed laying on the bed, trying to get some air back into your lungs. Joel, in the meantime, laid next to you and started leaving small kisses all over your face. If there was something you never ever expected in you entire life was Joel being such a cute lover. Damn, he'd been giving you the best fucking head of your life a minute ago, even giving you orders! How come he could turn into such a sweet thing in such a short time?

"You okay?", he asked. You nodded, still half dizzy.

"Yeah, 'm good", you looked at him. "You're a fuckin' beast".

Joel chuckled.

"Thought I'd be way more tired", he wrapped his arms around you and kept giving you little kisses. "Been a couple years since I did anythin' like this".

"First time with a man?".

"First time with a man".

You grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it, looking intently into his eyes.

"It wasn't half bad", you smiled at him. "That was the hardest I've ever come in my life".

"Fuck, really?", he laughed in disbelief. "Can't fuckin' believe it...".

"Maybe I should return the favor", you positioned yourself on top of him, your dick getting hard again.

"Hell, man. Can't take a break for a couple minutes?".

You palmed his groin with firm grip and lowered yourself until your mouth was leveled with his ear.

"I wanna have you inside me", you whispered. Your words immediately vibrated through his body and straight to his own dick. If he was already rock hard, now he was sure he was going to explode at any moment.

"Fuck", he groaned. He put himself up and started taking of his shirt. "You better get ready 'cause—".

"Stay down", you pushed his chest down onto the mattress. "You've just put me under ya. I think it's only fair if I do the same", you continued what he was doing and took his shirt off. He looked up at you with eyes full of enthrallment.

"Alright ", he managed to say, even though he was already too lost inside his thoughts —which consisted on you riding him down to town as well as you rode your horse. You smiled at that.

"Good boy", you whispered involuntarily.

You undid the rest of your clothes, discarding them to the floor, and got ready for the action. You made sure you two were fine and clean before you actually started. You gave Joel the beginning of a blowjob to make sure he would slip inside you with no problem, and since there was no lube nearby that was the best you had.

You positioned yourself over his dick. Looking into each other's eyes, you both nodded to give green light to the other before you slid down on him, his member entering your hole in one smooth thrust. A moan escaped from your mouths at the same time. Joel's eyes rolled back into his skull as he felt your tight, warm walls enveloping his manhood. You gripped the sheets tightly between your fingers to hold back the need of destroying yourself with him, trying to fight the incredible sensation of pleasure mixed with delicious pain. He looked up at you to make sure you were fine. You just nodded.

After a short while of getting used to having his length inside you, you started moving slowly. It didn't last much, your desire too much to bear for you to keep going so little quickly. So you started riding him, really riding him. Your walls clamped down onto his member, as if trying to milk him dry. His tip hit your prostate constantly, each time deeper and giving you more pleasure. He tried to reach out and grab your own dick, but you grabbed both of his hands and didn't let him move.

"S... Stay down", you repeated, this time between moans and heavy breaths.

Now desperation was killing him. Being inside you felt too good. He was going to come at any moment if you kept it up. But still you were going way softer than what he wanted. And you wouldn't let him move... That was fucking hell for him.

In an attempt to calm his desperate need, he started thrusting up into you, meeting your movements halfway. You liked that way too much for someone that was trying to establish some sort of dominance over Joel, but you didn't complain either. You just kept going at it, doing your thing as he did his. Though, as a response for what he was doing, you contracted your hole, your walls clenching down on his dick even tighter. He let out a loud moan at that.

"Fuckin' hell", he chuckled between more groans. "G'nna kill me if ya... Holy shit...".

"Inside... Do it inside...".

Your words sent him over the edge. He thrusted up even harder, chasing his release with wild desire. His dick kept hitting your insides in just the right spot and didn't leave you time to breathe before pleasure took over you. 

Joel was the first to come, and you kept riding him until you spilled your cum all over his stomach. He chuckled at the warm feeling, almost tickling him.

"Shit", you breathed out, laying beside him. "Y'all grandpas are somethin' else", you looked down at his cum dripping down your thighs. "Got a towel or somethin'?".

"Bathroom", he pointed to a room on his right, inside the bedroom. You got up and walked to it as well as your shaking legs allowed you to. You grabbed the only towel you saw and wiped Joel's cum off your thighs, then went back into the bedroom to wipe yours off his stomach. He smiled at you. "Thanks".

You tossed the towel to the floor with the rest of your clothes, then laid back next to him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you once again and kissed your forehead.

"I'll get it washed for ya tomorrow", you kissed him back.

"What, the towel? No need, I'll do it".

"Shut the fuck up, I'm takin' it to my place tomorrow. I'll let you borrow one o' mine until I have yours cleaned".

Joel chuckled.

"Fine, dad", he mocked at you.

"Who ya callin' dad? You're the one with kids here, grandpa", you turned around to look at him. You saw something that caught your attention on the wall behind him.

"Grandpa my ass", he laughed. He saw you lost on your thoughts and looking behind him. He turned around to see what you were checking. It was a handmade calendar.

"Ya count the days?", your eyes fell on the only day that wasn't marked with an x —December thirtieth.

"Uh, Ellie does. Then she made me do it, too —did that thing for me. She said countin' days is fun and that I should keep track of how time goes by, also to know how much of a grandpa I am", he laughed. "Why?".

A smile appeared on your lips and you looked at him again.

"It's my birthday", you giggled in excitement. Joel turned to look at you, then back at the calendar, then back at you.

"Shit", he frowned. "Didn't get ya anythin' ".

"Ya kiddin'?", you looked at him in disbelief, your smile still plastered on your face. "Ya got me some alcohol, fuckin' confessed to me n' gave me the best fuck of my life", you stopped to breathe. "If that's not one hell of a birthday gift, I don't know what to get ya for yours".

He laughed and hugged you once more, giving you a sweet, slow kiss. You grabbed his shoulders, wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer to you.

"Happy birthday", he whispered. You chuckled.

"Thanks, Joel", you whispered back.

You stayed in each other's arms until you two drifted off to sleep. After many sleepless nights for the both of you, that one night you could finally sleep soundly. For once, Joel had no nightmares and he didn't wake up once. As for you, you couldn't think of somewhere better to be.

That had been the best fucking birthday you'd had in more than twenty years.

[sunonyoreface]

He Knows - Simon “Ghost” Riley Pt. 2

Hi there, this is a series about Simon Riley from COD. This series does not follow any of the established plots or timelines from the games. While I use the names of some characters, they are different from the ones in COD.

Summary: You’re held captive by 141 for reasons unknown.

Word count: 3338

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: military setting, violence, explicit language, sexual harassment.

PT3: https://at.tumblr.com/sunonyoreface/he-knows-simon-ghost-riley-pt-3/qgt9szb2sixk 

“Don’t let her out of your sight. Got it?” Captain Price lectures soap as we eat breakfast together. It’s the third talk he’s gotten in the last day about the responsibility of keeping a “hostage”. I don’t know that I’d classify myself as a hostage though, however, something tells me it's just a legality and that there’s less paperwork for hostages than prisoners. That is if this ever gets written down on paper.

“Understood,” he says seriously. It’s only when he talks to price, that he uses this tone. Even when Soap tells me what to do, he doesn’t use a commanding voice. There’s always an edge of humour to his tone. It makes being around him actually bearable in this gloomy place.

They’ve been discussing protocol over bacon and hashbrowns. I’m surprised they’d do so while I’m present but nevertheless, I’m here. They cover everything ranging from where I’ll sleep to what happens when they’re out on a mission. No stone is left unturned.

I don’t have to wear cuffs at the table, however, everywhere else, they stay on. I eat whenever my babysitter eats. Using the washroom has to be approved beforehand and I’m supposed to sleep cuffed to one of they’ll hear if I try to escape. Which is a flawed system in my opinion because If I wanted to hurt them, that’s when I’d do it. However, Ghost apparently determined I’m not a physical threat. Apparently, I am a flight risk though. And apparently, that means I don’t get the privilege of wearing shoes.

When they’re on a mission, I’m to be locked in one of the interrogation rooms with surveillance. I’m guessing those were the rooms on the other side of the hall and not the one I was in yesterday. Part of me wonders why they didn’t want my investigation recorded. Another part of me knows it's probably because they didn’t want a record of me on file if they had to dispose of me. Then, I also asked myself why I had to sleep in the same area as the crew and not in the interrogation room, but maybe surveillance is easier when they don’t have to watch a screen all day.

Ghost sits beside Price at the metal picnic table while Soap and I sit on the opposite side. The other men are sitting at one of the adjacent tables, talking amongst themselves quietly. He doesn’t eat breakfast. Because eating breakfast would mean taking off his mask and I’m getting the impression he doesn’t do that all too often. At least around other people.

Instead of eating, he intently pays attention to Soap and Price’s conversation. His dark eyes flicker between the two as they take turns talking, largely remaining on Soap. I’ve noticed the two of them kind of follow each other around throughout the day. Last night, Soap made sure the cot next to him was open for Ghost. Then this morning, when Soap and I sat down to eat, it wasn’t long before Ghost found his way to our table despite skipping breakfast. I don’t mind Soap, but Ghost sets me on edge.

Just as the thought enters my mind, Ghost’s intense eyes make contact with my own. He caught me watching him. I freeze in surprise. His eyelids narrow with suspicion as he reads my expression. Nothing is innocent to him. Every movement, every gesture has some ulterior motive and he makes it his duty to reveal them. Even in the day’s early hours, he’s as alert as ever. I quickly break eye contact to stare at the last few hashbrowns on my plate.

I eat one potato at a time to keep myself occupied as the men talk. When I finally finish, I look up from my plate to realize Ghost is still staring at me, analyzing every movement. His cold gaze sends a chill down my spine. It's becoming clear to me that my interrogation didn’t end last night. No. He is as suspicious of me as ever.

Why did he clear me if he isn’t convinced, I’m innocent?

“So, when we move bases today, she stays with you the whole time. At any point do you uncuff her?” Price’s voice catches my attention as he mentions moving bases.

“Negative, sir,” Replies Soap. I get the feeling Price doesn’t necessarily trust him to watch me based on the amount of detailed instruction he provides Soap.

“Good. And the blindfold stays on ‘til we’re at the forward operating base,” he says. Soap’s leg bounces under the table and I can tell he’s tired of this conversation. Price is underestimating his abilities.

“Yes sir.”

“Right then. See you boys at 0700,” Price takes his place as he leaves the table. I catch the tail end of a shared look between Soap and Ghost, confirming my suspicions about them being close. I wonder what Ghost thinks about Soap taking on babysitting duties?

Last night while I was showering, Soap collected a few pieces of clothing for me that the men were willing to part with: a pair of wool long johns that I tied at the waist and cuffed at the ankles, a pair of thick socks, boxers, and a long-sleeved shirt that falls mid-thigh and fits like a dress. Several weeks ago I’d tell you I didn’t like the way shirt dresses looked, but today I’m just thankful for something that covers more than my ratty tank top. From what I can tell, I’m the only woman here and it’s made me significantly more conscious of what I’m wearing. I’m thankful for the full coverage and weary of any lingering eyes.

“Can you watch her for a second? Gotta hit the lavvy,” Soap asks Ghost.

“Not my job,” he answers plainly.

“Just watch her, will ya?” he quips back, leaving before Ghost has the chance to refuse. I watch Soap walk away before turning my gaze back to my empty plate. Suddenly the two tiny crumbs are worth analyzing in great detail to avoid making eye contact with Ghost. I feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to look up.

“Get up,” Ghost’s orders are quiet, but I’m not mistaken about who they’re for. He directs me to follow him with a slight nod toward the door. I quickly follow behind him, speeding up my pace to keep up with his long legs. I place my dishes in the bucket beside the door before leaving back to the sleeping quarters. Price mentioned we leave at seven, so it can’t be much longer until the team has to go.

After we exit the cafeteria area, he motions for me to walk in front of him. He did this yesterday too, ensuring I can’t sneak up from behind and attack him. Ghost is incredibly observant of his surroundings. Not only that but people’s body language as well. There’s nothing his sharp eyes miss.

“Pack your things,” he says as we enter the quarters. Except I don’t have anything to pack. I have a single blanket and a pillow that was lent to me last night, but I don’t even know that I’m supposed to keep them. Even if I can I don’t have a bag to pack them in.

“I don’t have a bag,” I mumble.

“What’s that?” Ghost asks, his voice tighter when he talks to me than Soap. He’s annoyed I’ve been passed off to him.

“I, uh, don’t have a bag to carry them.”

“For fucks sake,” he mutters under his breath. “Like looking after a fucking child.”

His harsh words sting, but all I can do is stand here and pretend to not hear them. Ghost rummages through his duffel bag until he pulls out a plastic shopping bag. He wordlessly extends his hand with the bag. His harsh eyes carefully watch as I process his actions and take a weary step forward to grab the bag.

“Thank you,” the words are timid and quiet. I don’t know enough about Ghost to gauge what his actions will be. Although he’s been relatively civil to me, he clearly also has a temper that boils just under the surface. And until I know what triggers that temper, I’ll be walking on eggshells around him. If I’m smart, I’ll walk on eggshells around all of them. These aren’t ordinary men after all and to treat them as such would be a significant lapse in judgment.

Ghost doesn’t respond to me. Instead, he ignores my words and turns back to his bag, packing up the last few items and articles of clothing from his space. Last night, I slept on the floor between his and Soap’s cot. This morning I neatly folded and rolled my blanket up and placed it on the pillow. Now, they only take a moment to stuff in the bag.

I find myself feeling directionless. I take a seat on the floor beside the cot and watch Ghost as he starts to check and clean his pistol. He sits on the edge of his cot now with his feet planted firmly on the ground. The gun looks small in his hands as he methodically disassembles it and lays the parts on the folded bed. His posture is relaxed and his broad shoulders slouch ever so slightly. He attends to each part of his weapon with care, cleaning the barrel and assuring every moving part is working. Ghost then unloads and reloads the clip before sliding it back into place.

“You left without telling me,” Soap’s tense, but familiar voice fills the room. Ghost mutters something indiscernible under his breath.

“I’m not waiting forty minutes for you to take a shit,” he says bluntly. I can’t help the smile that tugs at the corner of my lips.

“It was not forty minutes,” Soap sounds mildly offended and as though he’s reconsidering how long he was gone. “Oh, you think that’s funny now, do ya?” his attention turns to me. I bite the inside of my cheek to hide the smile and shrug my shoulders.

“Nope,” I say simply. I feel another pair of eyes on me and make an effort not to pay them any attention.

“Whatever,” he says grabbing his pre-packed duffel bag. Soap grabs a black fabric bag that looks like the balaclavas they all wear, but without the eye holes. “Put this on, you’re not allowed to see where we’re going,” he hands me the mask.

I take one last look at the sleeping quarters before sliding the mask on. The fabric’s soft, but I hate not being able to see. I’m transported back to being held captive by the last group of men who blindfolded me often. When they’d move me from room to room, I wasn’t allowed to see my surroundings. One of the men would get impatient with me as I blindly walked without a guide and occasionally push or shove me. Several small cuts and bruises remind me of his impatience.

“Here,” Soap’s hand lightly taps my shoulder as he offers to help me up. I grab his calloused hand as he pulls me up from my spot next to the cot. His other hand gently grabs my shoulder to steady me, before quickly letting go. “There ya go,” he says softly.

“Thanks,”

“I’ll save ya a seat LT,”

I’m grateful for soap as he guides me through the halls of the base with a gentle hand on the back of my arm. He’s patient: not yelling or shoving me if I don’t walk fast enough. A stark change from how I was treated before. When we get to the vehicle, he helps me up the steps and to a chair.

I hear several of the other men already waiting and I know for certain the layout isn’t the same as a traditional car. This is a military vehicle. A transport van of some sort maybe? From what I can tell there aren’t multiple rows of two to three seats like in a car. Instead, there’s a row of seats connected to the frame of the vehicle that align parallel with the road. Everyone sits shoulder to shoulder and faces the person across from them in the van.

More men pile in and I hear several new voices. There are definitely more of them than just the crew who found me last night. Soap takes a seat to the right of me and I become aware of just how little space there is in here. His warm thigh presses against mine as he straps himself in.

“Here,” Soap presses a metal clasp of some sort into my hand. I grab onto the tiny piece unsure of what to do with it. I tense up when he reaches across me and grabs a strap from behind my left shoulder. His arm involuntarily brushes against my chest as he does so. “Clip these together,” he presses the second half of the clasp in my hand and I blindly fidget with them until they seem to lock together.

“Is this right?” I ask quietly as I hold the latch out for Soap to see. I’m conscious of the other men who are loading into the van. I wish I could melt through the walls and disappear from their sight. I know I’ve been the topic of conversation the last twenty-four hours and now I’m right here for them to examine. The blindfold is almost nice because while I know they’ll be staring at me, at least I won’t know for sure.

Soap grabs the latch from my hands and gives it a tug. “Looks good,” he says. “Should tighten it though,” he grabs the straps closest to him and starts to adjust them. They don’t sit like a normal seatbelt. Instead, each strap wraps around your shoulder and waist to connect in the center of your stomach. The last person sitting in this seat was a man much larger than myself wearing a bulletproof vest and various other tactical gear; they need to be almost fully tightened to fit properly against my frame.

“Ghost, can you get the other strap?” Soap asks. My ears tune in to a heavy pair of approaching footsteps.

“Negative,” a deep voice says, but a new pair of hands grabs the straps on my left side. His gloves brush over my collarbone as he grabs the belt and pulls it tight. He’s more efficient at adjusting the straps than Soap, finishing sooner despite having started last. Once they’re both finished, Ghost takes the seat immediately to my left.

Like Soap, Ghost’s arm and thigh press into my own. The van is designed to fit as many people as possible in a limited space. Touching is inevitable. My heart rate picks up at the close proximity to the two men and my entire body is completely tense. I hold my hands together in my lap with my nails pressing down hard into the palms of my hands. I can already feel the marks they’re going to leave.

The two of them remain silent, however, the other men converse amongst themselves. They’re upbeat conversations. They almost sound excited about this next mission. One last man climbs into the van before the door slams shut.

“All aboard?” I recognize Price’s voice from the front of the vehicle. All of the side conversations come to an immediate halt at the sound of his voice.

“Affirmative,” Ghost’s loud response rings in my ears as he shouts back to his commander.

“Then we’re off!”

Conversations pick up again once Price finishes speaking. Minutes pass before someone across from me switches the topic of conversation. He starts talking to one of the men beside him. I can make out the first man’s words, however, the second one speaks with a low tone that is hard to depict.

“So what’s her deal, Soap? How badly did you fuck up to get that job?” The first man turns his attention to Soap. He’s saying less than he knows. Everyone knows why I’m here. It’s not like there’s an abundance of gossip or girls hanging around their base. When there is, they’re sure to be talked about. This man is fishing for more information from Soap. I feel his shoulders shift as he sighs. He expected this to happen, but not so soon.

“Didn’t fuck up anything,” he responds.

“No? They promoted you to babysitter for doing a good job? Might as well be a fucking lavvy queen,” this earns a few chuckles from the growing audience of men. They’re all curious. I’ve felt their eyes on me since the minute I stepped foot on their base. They’ve been waiting for someone to make the first move. All this fuss, yet no one has acknowledged me directly. Not yet anyway. I can’t imagine it’ll be long until they do. I haven’t been told not to interact with them. But I know better.

“Doesn’t matter,” says Soap dismissively.

“Right then,” says the man. It’s quiet for a moment, the conversation almost seeming to come to a stop. Until the man speaks up again. “And since when did we start bringing prisoners on missions?”

“Well, she ain’t technically a prisoner, right?” Another man chirps in.

“Either way, I don’t see why she’s coming with us,” Says the first man. All of the remaining side conversations have come to a stop. All attention is on Soap, the man across from us, and myself.

“Captain’s orders,” Soap replies. Surely Price is listening to the conversation now that his name’s been dropped.

“He order you to watch after her too, or is that something you volunteered for?” I feel Soap grow tense next to me as his frustration builds.

“Was a mutual agreement,” he deflects again.

“Yeah right,” someone else chimes in. “Who would volunteer to look after a prisoner?”

“Well I don’t know,” the first man drawls out in a suggestive tone as though he’s putting some real thought into his response. “Take the bag off and I’ll tell you if I’d volunteer,”  my blood runs cold from his comment and the air catches in my throat. He earns a couple of snickers from the surrounding men, but they’re quickly cut short.

“That’s enough,” Ghost's commanding voice booms through the van, reverberating through my chest and bouncing off the metal walls. Everyone freezes and the only noise that can be heard is the crunching sound of tires on gravel.

“Sorry sir,” The man responds, but Ghost doesn’t acknowledge him. An awkward silence fills the space for several long moments before a few quiet side conversations begin to fill the space once more. I don’t hear the man across me talk for almost the rest of the ride. Ghost’s sharp correction is enough to shut him up for a considerable amount of time. His men know better than anyone, not to piss him off.

Neither Soap nor Ghost says anything for the rest of the ride and I’m left to wonder about why he put a stop to the conversation. Sure, it made me extremely uncomfortable. But to the other men, it wasn’t more than mildly inappropriate. They say more crude things to each other every day without repercussion. So why would Ghost step in now? Why bother using his rank to stifle a meaningless conversation?

The rest of the ride is long and uncomfortable. My nerves are on edge now knowing how the men of this crew think of me like a piece of meat. I don’t know what I expected. I’m exhausted and all I want is to be able to fall asleep, but my heart is racing too fast and I feel like they might start talking about me again at any moment.

The entire time Soap and Ghost press into the sides of my body and while at first it was uncomfortable, I’m glad it’s the two of them rather than the other men in the van. The warmth from their bodies is strangely comforting – safe, almost.

[iireneleee]

MY FAVOURITE PLACEMENTS FOR EACH SIGN (with explanation of course 😚😚)

remember, don’t take this too seriously cause this whole thing is fully based on my own personal opinion so im sorry if I didn’t mention your placement(s). don’t be offended okay?! MUAH I love all of yall 💋

Aries: I’d probably say 50% venus 25% moon 15% sun — honestly this is kinda hard for me cause my best best friend is an Aries moon and I get along very well with Aries moons however… this one girl that I broke off all contacts with cause she was obsessive ( she still hasn’t stop💔💔 even though we stopped talking for 2 years, super creepy) 50% venus because omg literally almost every single lovely person I know has that placement it’s mad. maybe it’s bc my venus conjuncts theirs (I’m also an aries venus) they express love in a way I adore so 💕💕 for aries sun, 25% because I’m only close with one aries sun but she’s literally so fly I love. but she says some weird stuff occasionally though she’s too unfiltered HAHAHA love that.

Taurus: definitely taurus moon 50% and taurus mercury 50% — taurus moons are literally the cutest people ever. idk why but all of y’all are like little hamsters in my eyes. taurus moons remind me so much of hamsters. many of you are probably leaders and I love being around you guys. super sweet and always there when I need y’all muah muah. people always stereotype you guys as lazy people but every single taurus moon I know are the most hardworking people ever. super admirable individuals 😚😚 those who have natal taurus mercury people are the funniest. y’all are like LOWKEY old souls. very good people to be in a group project with cause they always voice out the best opinions and ideas. they are also really relatable individuals they say things that many people would like relate to idk how to describe it, meme worthy i guess?? I love y’all so much. sometimes they ignore people when they say stupid stuff but whatever they’re literally one of the best people so they get a free pass.🤫🤫

Gemini: mmmm I’d say 50% gemini suns and 50% gemini risings. honestly, I haven’t met many gemini placements 😭 my sister is a gemini rising so i might be a little biased HAHAH sorry my bad my bad. i love gemini risings they always give me one of the best first impressions. i tend to get along really well with gemini risings and tend to gravitate towards them hehe. also for gemini suns, most are pretty cool. i realise that gemini suns tend to be really nice and grounded when you meet them but when you get closer to them they’re little devils IN A GOOD WAY hahah. all my interactions and memories with gemini suns are actually really good. they always promise a good time 🙏🙏

Cancer: CANCER VENUS🔥🔥 for sure cancer venus. omg i love them. they give really good hugs LOL. super sweet individuals. i love the way they express their love it’s so cute especially when you’re the recipient of the love literally so 😍😍. one of my friends have this placement and oml she gives such meaningful gifts. she is the reason why I have high expectations for gifts LOL. i really hope i get to befriend more cancer venuses 💔💔 they’re really thoughtful people who take initiative very very lovely 🫶

Leo: leo moons 🙏🙏 y’all are so chill. literally are the 😐 people ITS SO FUNNY . I love y’all so much I always have ‘beef’ with leo moons lol literally tom and jerry but it’s so fun. bickering (affectionately) I know I lot who don’t study but r really smart or at least all of y’all tell me you don’t study😐😐 I know a lot of you guys who r dancers too and omg really pro dancers srs srs. super fun people but they lowkey about it.

Virgo: definitely virgo sun + virgo venus I have so many virgo sun babes (aka friends) they’re so so sweet. im always having a fun carefree time when im with you guys. never a dull moment. you guys are like my babies srs srs you guys just gave me that youthful feel and it’s so refreshing omg🫂🫂. virgo venus people are so funny idek why they’re so underrated. they’re also very big mouth literally tell them something humiliating that happen to you and if it doesn’t sound like you’re very bothered by it trust people around you probably also know about it BUT it’s okay cause they cute, I can never get mad at them. also very playful people. 💋💋 i love talking to them but at the end of the convo omg we are like probably fighting / arguing (affectionately) LOL i don’t get many gifts from them honestly but they LOVE to give food. hehe 💋💋 to my virgo venus sweethearts

Libra: libra suns + libra moons so 50 - 50 hehe libra suns are really helpful people. they’re like honestly very libra idk why. they’re so so sweet, always there to listen to you ramble. my mama is a libra sun and omg she’s always listening to me ramble and rant ITS SO FUNNY. sometimes you guys are too nice to people that they tend to take advantage of your kindness so always be on the look out and know your worth 😚😚 . libra moons ARE SO FUNNY. i love you guys, y’all always make me lose my breath over your jokes. super random people who talk about out of pocket things but it’s so unique and fun with you guys that I can’t help but laugh everytime i see yalls face. also pretty smart people. you guys always do your best in things that you’re passionate about and it’s really admirable however, when y’all dgaf about stuff man all that quality work is gone LOL but it’s okay me too. best people to have around y’all remind me of those circus seals. 🔥🔥firee

Scorpio: scorpio venus — I really love scorpio venus individuals omg. they’re always there for you and always ready to attend all your big moments without fail. I had this one friend who has a scorpio venus and she take time out of her own busy schedule to train me for my interview and we stayed at the place until like the sunset it was so wholesome. not only did she do that but she was with me when I got my interview results like I was so shocked I thought she stayed cause she also had something to do afterwards but turns out she had nothing to do and she planned to wait for me and leave right after omg i literally melted. I treasure her so much and because of that I’ve always had a good impression of her. super sweet individuals. little cinnamon buns, warm and sweet. they also really are big on physical touch cliché I know but it’s real HAHA. everyone should have a scorpio venus friend or significant other 😭😭💋💋

Sagittarius: sagittarius moons — out of all my close friends in my click, half are sagittarius moons, it’s literally mad. they’re such unique individuals all of them have different personalities even though they have the same moon. but one thing they all have in common is that they find the weirdest stupidest unfunniest jokes funny. it’s mad. I can pull out a photo of a cat on the ground holding a fish and they’d be cracking up like mad. they all really enjoy being around positive and responsible people, people who are like them. they always burst out laughing idk y they try to hold their laugh but they never laugh normally. I love them though it’s always so comfortable around them MUAHHH💋💋

Capricorn: capricorn moons + capricorn mercury 50-50 — omg my baby capricorn moons, they’re so athletic, or maybe it’s just the capricorn moons I know but omg they’re so competitive when it comes to sport. they’re actually really reliable people even though they may seem quite playful and reckless. they tend to be good at math. love food. they also like to make handmade things for their friends and it’s really random. sometimes I come out of class one day and they just ask me if I want a cookie. LOL and one of my friends gave me a piece of paper that she doodled and drew on FOR ME it’s so cute and random but makes me physically like become the 🥺 emoji. love u guys. for capricorn mercuries y’all have the most underrated humour YALL ARE SO FUNNY LOL. you guys make the funniest jokes with the straightest faces like this face, 😐. MAKES ITS EVEN FUNNIER LOL. y’all tend to text a lot and are quite talkative actually. love you guys cause you guys never hesitate to make the conversation about the other party rather than yourself LOL JOKING ( but FR though you guys make me feel like the main character whenever I’m talking to u ) 🫂🫂

Aquarius: mmm i haven’t really befriended many who have aquarius placements so this may not be relatable😭😭 sorry!! but I’ll have to go with aquarius moons. — I tend to get attracted to aquarius moons cause they seem really fun. idk why but they all seem like a ball of sun to me. they remind me of fluffy cows HAHAH. they’re really cool individuals and they’re really kind. super sweet people who are always willing to help you and take initiative LOVE THEM��💕. wish I get to know more aquarius moons, they’re just so loveable and reliable. 🫶🫶😚

Pisces: pisces moons 50% + pisces risings 25% + pisces mercury 25%💕💕💕 — OMG pisces moons BRUU literally my babes. I love them so much. they’re always there to help. they’re really responsible people even though they like to have fun. best people to have for group projects. they’re also really good at putting themselves in other peoples shoes hence making them very good at comforting others. very good friends that would do anything for you. they tend to radiate the same energy you give them so always give your best to them for you to receive the best💪💪 for pisces risings, I just really like they’re features. they all give like a reserved energy and many people would think that they’re really high achievers and admirable people with a cute face HEHE. they’re really sweet and awkward at first but once you get to know them omg it’s a huge difference they’re little devils LOLOLOL (in a good way🤫🤫) I tend to have many pisces rising friends maybe cause their rising is in my seventh house but 😚😚 whatever. they’re little choco pies, random ik but it just fits their whole persona . pisces mercuries are really chill people who like to talk. I love them so much cause like tend to relate to one another a lot and i just love to talk to them because they’re so easy to talk to. just pull out a random topic and they would prob be able to talk about it, very versatile speakers. also, they don’t really share their opinions at times. like sometimes i want to eat something with them but their whole face writes “no that looks disgusting” so I ask them if they’re sure that they’re fine with the restaurant and they say that they’re fine but they’re not really fine LOLOLOL they’re so cute HAHAH love them. they always put others before themselves.

made by: @iireneleee

[voidpetrova]

teen romance — lip gallagher x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings & genre: swearing (it's the southside) — fluff, angst

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you've been the gallagher's family friend for as long as you can remember, but you've been assigned a task in which you convince lip to go to college and make something of himself

✧.*

“you do realize you're eating here for free, right?”

you shot carl a smile in response to his teasing tone. in some way, he was right. you weren't adding money into the squirrel fund, and you sure as hell weren't participating in any rent paying. however, it wasn't your responsibility. you didn't live with the gallaghers, but you've been a family friend ever since monica was around. you had been taking your life on the southside very seriously—attending college, working as many part-time jobs as possible—all of it just to get by. your parents had left you many moons ago, but everything in their will had been gifted to you, their daughter. every last cent. and you made it your duty to support the gallaghers with all you had. so, yes, you were definitely eating there for free, but it was your cash that was paying for the food and clothes, paying off their debts, and so much more.

as the summer breeze wafted through the gallagher household, you leaned back in your chair, savoring the familiarity of the chaotic scene around you. lip, perched on the counter nearby, eyeing you with a mix of amusement and fondness. “guess you're the real guardian angel here,” he quipped, a half-smile tugging at his lips. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. “someone's gotta give fiona a hand at keeping this place from falling apart completely.”

lip's gaze softened, and he raked a hand through his unruly hair. “yeah, well, we appreciate it. more than you know.”

it wasn't lost on either of you that your presence had become a steady pillar of support in their lives. through the ups and downs, your friendship with the gallaghers had grown stronger. it was a bond forged not just by circumstance, but by shared experiences and the understanding that sometimes, family extended beyond bloodlines.

as the afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the room, lip's expression turned contemplative. “you ever think about what life would be like if you weren't part of this mess?”

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “sure, sometimes. but then i remember that life's messiness is what makes it interesting.”

lip chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting. “you've got a point there.”

the front door had swung open in the middle of your conversation, and the rest of the clan tumbled in, each one carrying their own story of the day. your heart swelled as you watched them, a sense of belonging washing over you. “are you gonna join us for dinner, (y/n)?” debbie called out as she plopped down onto the bed. you grinned at her, rising from the seat to help set the table as you ruffled her hair. “wouldn't miss it for the world.”

as the evening unfolded, laughter and chatter filled the air, intertwining with the aroma of a makeshift gallagher family dinner. lip found a seat next to you, his knee brushing against yours under the table. in that simple touch, you felt a connection that words couldn't quite capture. fiona and veronica shot each other a look as they smirked, almost as if they knew. it wasn't that they didn't—everybody knew of lip's fondness of you, but not in the same way everyone else was.

“you know, we're lucky to have you,” lip murmured, his voice low and sincere. feeling a warmth spread through your chest, you turned to him, your gaze locking. “i'm the lucky one. you guys are my family, too.” in that moment, surrounded by the people who had become your home, you realized that your presence in the household was more than just financial support. it was a testament to the unbreakable bonds that formed when hearts opened to one another, transcending circumstances and hardships.

and as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a tapestry of colors across the sky, you couldn't help but feel that, despite life's challenges, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

just after dinner, you found yourself sitting on the front porch with lip. the evening air was cool, and the stars above twinkled in the night sky. the conversation had shifted to more serious matters, and you couldn't shake the feeling that lip was holding back something important.

“you know, lip, you're incredibly smart,” you began, voice gentle but firm. “have you ever considered going back to college?” lip's brow furrowed, his jaw clenching slightly. “why does everyone keep bringing that up? college isn't for everyone, you know.” you sighed softly, sensing the frustration in his words. “i get that. but it's not about what's for everyone; it's about what's right for you. you're brilliant, lip. you could do so much more than this if you just gave yourself the chance.”

he turned his gaze away, his expression a mixture of irritation and contemplation. “and do what? end up drowning in student loans, chasing a degree that might not even guarantee a job? you act like i haven't thought about it, but it's not that simple.”

“i'm not saying it's simple,” you replied, your voice steady. “but it's worth considering. you deserve more than this, lip. you deserve to explore your potential and make something of yourself.”

his fists clenched, and he shot you a glare. “you think i don't want that? you think i'm just sitting around here, content with my life?”

“i know you want more,” you said softly, your gaze unwavering. “but it's the fear holding you back, lip.”

his frustration seemed to boil over, and he snapped, his voice tinged with anger. “i don't need you to psychoanalyze me, (y/n). just because you pay our bills and wash our asses doesn't give you a right to shit.”

his words stung, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself. “you can be an asshole all you want,” your tone had come to a cold halt. “i've known all of you since monica was sober and frank knew how to put pants on, i'm family too. if you wanna throw your life away, go ahead. i'm only doing what i've been doing the last 19 years—supporting you.”

he stood up abruptly, pacing back and forth. After a tense silence, he finally turned to you, his eyes searching yours. “i'm sorry for being a dick, it's just a sore spot for me.”

you nodded, your heart aching for him. “i understand. but i believe in you, lip. and if you decide to go back to college, i'll be right there supporting you every step of the way.”

lip's shoulders slumped, and he exhaled heavily. “i know you will, it's all you've been doing all these years,” he took a step closer, his gaze earnest. “if i do this, it won't be for anyone else but myself. but i want you to know that your belief in me means everything.”

you were touched by his words. so touched, that when he finally leaned in, you barely noticed. his lips felt heavy against yours, nose pressing against the tip of your own as you melted into his touch. all these years—tension has been building all these years—and you were finally given a chance to unwind. you were content, happy as his arms wrapped around your waist, hearts fluttering as he pulled away from you.

you both sat back down on the porch, the weight of the conversation still hung in the air. but this time, there was a sense of understanding, of a shared commitment to exploring the possibilities that lay ahead. and as you gazed at the stars above, you couldn't help but feel that this was the beginning of something new, failing to realize that lip chose to look at you instead of the starry sight above.

[slayerkitty]

Let's Talk About Trust, Baby

I've seen a lot of posts where people are really confused about Mew and where his head might be at with regard to his relationship with Top. Why he hasn't given Top the boyfriend title back, why they haven't had sex yet, etc. That led me down a rabbit hole of thinking about the relationships between the characters and the one thing all relationships need to function - TRUST. If you don't trust your significant other or your friends/family, etc, what kind of relationship can you even have? I tried to break this down in groups/pairs and some of it might not be as thought out, so there may be more on this as the show goes on but here we go.

The Fab Four

So there's a lot of context we're missing about the relationships between our core four dysfunctional besties (Note: So far, Cheum doesn't seem that dysfunctional, you're doing amazing sweetie!) such as how they met, how long have they been friends (what the hell Ray and Mew got up to that one night... *ahem* I digress). Now, we don't have any real answers to these questions (yet) so I'm taking some educated guesses based on my own college experiences and what I've generally picked up from other university BLs typical story telling.

I feel like the four of them met during orientation (except maybe Ray and Mew, I'm waffling on thoughts that they've known each other since high school). Most university BLs set it up that the mains meet during orientation, bond during whatever torture the seniors are putting the freshman through and kind of build their friend groups based on that.

I also feel like they may have gravitated toward each other or remained a group because they're all queer. BLs can go either way on whether or not homophobia exists in their narrative and I think that Only Friends is going the more realistic route (and it's Jojo) so I think that I can definitely see them bonding over being queer. They find an LGBTQ bar and it becomes their thing to do together. Most friendship groups form because people just sort of fall in together due to circumstance and they seem no different.

But do they trust each other? Signs point to yes. (I was shocked too, lol)

Mew and Cheum: We haven't had much focus on her, but he seems to value her opinion and listen to her advice. (We also know that April likes him from the time they've spent together and he likes April, so I would say he and Cheum probably have pretty good trust built up.)

Mew and Boston: He believed without a single doubt when Boston said that Top had never had a lover longer than 3 months and that Top would probably, as Ray put it "nail and bail" once Mew and Top have sex. Cheum also believed Boston. Do I think Boston was lying here? No. But neither do they and that's important. Does Boston trust Mew? I think he does. His issues with Mew are not about trust.

Mew and Ray: These two vibe a little different than the rest of the group. They seem closer; they seem like they've talked about "the deep stuff" (vs maybe superficial topics with their other friends). Their first one on one scene has them talking about Ray's alcoholism seriously (even though Mew doesn't push about it as much as I would have liked) and you can tell there's an intimacy there that the other group members don't share. Whether that stems from whatever it is that happened that night in the video (I am salivating about this, it's delicious, I need more info) or because they've been friends for longer, I don't know.

Let's move on to the pairs:

Cheum and April: Do they trust each other? I assume so? Cheum goes out drinking with the boys at least once a week and April seems okay with that (we haven't heard otherwise), so I'll say yes? (Jojo, I NEED MORE OF THEM. I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TO EVEN ANALYZE. GIVE US MORE.)

Sand and Ray: I'm gonna call this one as Sand does not trust Ray, but Ray trusts Sand. Sand knows that Ray is a walking red flag and he's trying to resist but Ray is making it really hard. *ahem* Ray bailing mid-make out is not helping Sand's trust issue. If you look at how Sand has cared for Ray since episode one, however, Ray most likely trusts Sand. I mean, Ray talked about his mom to Sand. I think that's a biiiig deal.

Mew and Top: Thanks to Boston, neither of them trusts the other. And this, right here, is why Mew has not moved the relationship forward. HE DOESN'T TRUST TOP. He's still worried that Top will "nail and bail". Remember Mew's checklist from episode two? He only checks off "gets along with my friends" (HAH!) and "respects me" but not "doesn't lie to me". We can infer this means it hasn't been marked off since he doesn't mention it to anyone in this episode. Given that a lot of us clocked Mew potentially spotting Boston's trunks on the floor in the shower, along with him questioning if Top was telling the truth about the fire, it's clear this is the one thing holding him back.

If Mew agrees to be Top's boyfriend, then the expectation of sex becomes a lot higher (it shouldn't but that's a different discussion to be had). It's also implied in the narrative (and from Jojo) that Mew is a very structured person and he doesn't like to lose control (re-watch the counter scene from episode one. You know you want to. I'll wait). The moment that Mew realizes that he is way too into what they're doing, he panics because he doesn't have control over the situation.

Up until episode three, Top did trust Mew. He trusted him enough to get vulnerable and then Boston blew it up by fabricating a narrative backed with evidence of...something between Ray and Mew (I'm seriously dying for this scene, I need it).

Another thing I am having thoughts about is that in this episode, Top referred to himself as Mew's boyfriend and so did Cheum and Mew didn't deny it like he did in episode two. When Top's *ahem* "buddy" approached them at the silent disco, it was very clear that Mew expected Top to introduce Mew as his boyfriend and was visibly (if momentarily) upset that he didn't.

Boston and Nick: Yes and no, but also no and no, respectively. So Boston trusts Nick with some things but not everything which leads to him lying, gaslighting and manipulating (he's a triple threat). In turn, Nick lies right back, because what else can he do? (a lot of things actually, oh Nick, you are starting to spiral hard.) This leads Nick to rigging the CCTV video to show on his phone and to wiretap Boston's car, which just shows you his trust in Boston is non-existent.

In conclusion: Trust is another theme the show seems to be exploring: earning it, keeping it, and what you do after trust is broken. I think it can tie back into the ongoing ephemerality discussion as well: trust isn't permanent. You have to earn it, maintain it, and once broken, it's gone (and seldom can be repaired).

Also, everyone needs therapy.

Tagging the Ephemerality Squad: @waitmyturtles, @chickenstrangers, @lurkingshan, @twig-tea, @ranchthoughts, @clara-maybe-ontheroad

Hope I didn't forget anyone!

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Step 7: Fall Further in Love, Cause You're Gay

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Guess whos no longer sicc! Anyway, enjoy soft central with a hint of plot building and a dash of foreshadowing. I hope you enjoy 🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402@the-bagel24@eveymay@kimiinou@muffintopxs

(pls let me know if you want to be tagged/ I missed you!)

Chapter 6 Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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

You were so comfy right now, holy shit. You were lying on a heavenly bed. Your head was resting on the softest, warmest pillow you had ever had the pleasure of laying your head upon. You snuggle your head closer freezing when you feel your pillow breathe.

Oh holy shit

You peek one eye open, lifting your head slightly. You’ve had your head resting on Larissa’s chest, your entire body resting atop hers with your legs intertwined. Her face is bare, the sunlight shining on the side of her face making her look even more ethereal than she usually does.

You grin up at her before gently extricating yourself from her limbs. You manage to get up without waking her and manage to keep yourself from tripping over your own feet. You pick up a shirt that was hanging over the chair at her vanity (she has a vanity, she’s so fancy), slipping it on before making your way to the kitchen.

She has a small kitchen attached to her rooms which you have to basically ransack to find mugs, coffee and hot chocolate. You finish making your drinks, humming to yourself softly. You’re halfway through the bedroom door when you notice Larissa sitting up, the covers bunched up around her, her head in her hands.

“Larissa?” You ask, rushing over to her.

“Oh shit fuck wait-“ you panic, nearly spilling your drink all over yourself.

She looks up at your, her eyes wet with unshed tears. She takes you in, doing your best to balance the mug you nearly dropped, dressed in her shirt, looking at her with so much concern.

You put the mugs on her bedside table, hovering over her nervously.

“Uhm I- is it okay if I touch you? Are you okay?” You ask.

“I- I’m sorry.” She laughs, wiping her eyes. “I just- you weren’t here when I woke up and-“

“Oh…oh gods I am so sorry.” You apologize, grabbing her hands. “I-I would never just leave you. You’re far too lovely for that.”

She smiles up at you, squeezing your hands before looking away.

“I must seem so silly, crying over something so trivial.” She whispers.

“I once cried when a cat looked at me and walked away.” You reply.

She laughs at that, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“I’m serious! It was a tabby and I did the whole pspspspsps and it just walked away! I was devastated.”

She snorts ducking her head and pulling you onto her lap. You squeak, bracing yourself by grabbing her shoulders. She presses a kiss to your neck, burying her face into it.

“Mmm you look absolutely delicious in my clothes.” She mumbles.

“I feel like you’re not taking my pain seriously here.” You hum, scratching at the base of her head.

“No no I’m listening darling…” she hums, pressing more kisses to your neck.

You tilt your head back, running your hand up her spine and humming.

“Are you feeling okay pretty lady?” You ask softly.

“Mmm..” she all but purrs into your neck.

“Do you want your coffee?”

“Mmm…”

“You know you have to remove your face from my neck to drink your coffee?”

She groans at that, pressing one last kiss to your neck before leaning back and reaching for her coffee. You two sit there, wrapped in each other (and Larissa’s soft comforter), sipping your coffee. It’s so domestic and soft and everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

Until you notice the fucking massive headache that you had been ignoring until now. You wince putting your coffee down and reaching up to rub your forehead.

“Are you okay darling?” She asks, reaching up to cup your face.

“Mm. Just a headache. I have no idea why thou- oh wait…” you murmur.

“Darling?”

“Ahhhh I forgot to take my drugs.”

“Your what now?”

“Oh no it’s not- I have prescription medication I have to take every morning otherwise I get all headachey and lightheaded.” You reassure her.

“Oh. Oh, that’s- darling I’m sorry I-“ she stammers.

“Nope. Shhhhhh. None of that,” you start, “nothing to apologize for. I regret absolutely nothing and would rather suffer a hundred headaches than not be here with you.”

“You’re sure you’ll be okay darling?” She blushes, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Mhm, I’ll just take it easy today. I don’t have work anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem.” You hum.

“So I have my pretty barista all to myself today?” She purrs, pulling you flush against her.

“You are absolutely insatiable,” you giggle before rushing forward to kiss her.

——————-

“YOU ABSOLUTE LEGEND. YOU ACTUALLY SLE-“

You slap your hand over James’ mouth, mortified he would be so vocal about your sex life.

“Yes, okay calm down you fucking degenerate.” You hiss, smacking him.

“I’m so proud of you, you spunky little bottom.” He smirks. “And Tyler owes me 20 bucks.”

“You took a bet with Tyler about my sex life?”

“Yes. You know I’ll literally do anything for money.”

You sigh at him, shaking your head. The three of you are getting the cafe ready for Outreach day. You had been leaving Nevermore when Larissa mentioned it to you, explaining how the kids would work in the town for half the day as a way of “bettering normie-outcast relations.” She seemed really excited for it so you internally vowed to be the kindest fucker on the face of this planet.

You had been briefing the boys on how they needed to behave and how you would not hesitate to fuck them up if they were rude(they were both adamant they wouldn’t be and then made fun of you for making such an effort for your girlfriend), when in walked three kids in Nevermore uniforms. One of them, wearing super cool shades, made a beeline for you.

“Your Principal Weems girlfriend right?” She asked, stopping rather closely in front of you.

“Uhm well-“

“Trick question: I saw you leave her rooms the other day.” She grins. “I’m Yoko.”

“It’s- it’s great to meet you, Yoko,” you manage, doing your best to keep your face from burning. “Uh…You want me to show you how to use the fucked up coffee machine?”

“Sweet.” She nods.

You spend the next hour or so teaching Yoko how to make different kinds of coffee. She was surprisingly good at it and really quick to learn. She was also, much to your dismay, pretty good at making late art.

“You’re going to put me out of a job if you continue like this.” You joke.

“Maybe I will,” she deadpans, “maybe I’ll start a vampire cafe. We would put you out of business.”

“Damn Yoko. I thought we were bonding. I can’t believe you would betray me like this.” You cry, wiping away fake tears.

“Nah I’d hire you, you’re chill. You smell kinda like a vampire actually…” she trails off.

“I smell…like…a vampire?” You ask.

She sniffs you, making a face before poking your upper lip. “You don’t have fangs though…strange…”

“I uhh use vanilla deodorant?” You try.

“No…that’s not it…” she murmurs, “Weird…”

The two of you stand there, Yoko studying you and you feeling awkward as anything. She’s broken out of her investigation by two other students entering the cafe, one of them being Enid. The two catch Yoko's attention and, after saying goodbye to you, she runs off with the two of them. Before you can have an internal crisis about what Yoko was talking about Larissa walks in, looking radiant and ethereal as ever.

You lean against the counter, grinning at her in a way you can only assume made you look like a lovesick puppy due to the two “awws” you receive from behind you. You flip both of them the bird before Larissa arrives in front of you.

“Hi pretty lady.” You hum, smiling up at you.

“Hello darling,” she grins. “I’ll take one hot chocolate please.”

“For here or to go?”

“For here.” She hums, looking you up and down. “I don’t suppose you could join me?”

“I would literally love nothing more.” You grin, taking off your apron.

“Are you seriously going to make us make you and your girlfriend hot chocolate?” James scoffs earning a snort from Tyler.

“Isn’t that what you’re here for?” You joke, sliding into the booth across from Larissa.

You notice she’s sitting super straight, her shoulders tense. She’s fiddling with her fingers and she’s blushing bright red. You’re mentally trying to figure out why she looks so embarrassed when it finally clicks.

“Uhm Larissa?” You start. “I know we never really spoke about it. And I mean I probably should’ve brought it up before I just let people say stuff. And I mean you may not even want to be together that way and I shouldn’t have assumed-“

“Darling take a breath.” She soothes, reaching across the table to grab your hands mid wild gesture.

You do as she says, squeezing her hands.

“Sorry…I just really really like you. And I uhm. Would it be okay if- that is to say would you-“

She laughs, a sound that makes your heart race and you barely suppress the urge to swoon. She’s looking at you with such a soft look and her beautiful blue eyes.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” She smirks and god it’s so hot this is unfair.

“I- well. Yes.” You mumble.

“I would love nothing more darling.”

And just like that you are the happiest person in the world. You’re almost certain you giggle and blush like a goddamn schoolgirl. Tyler drops off your drinks, winking at you and raising his brows. You sit and chat for a bit when Mayor Walker enters. He chats with Larissa, essentially ignoring you and it pains you to see how much she has to suck up to him.

They chat for a while, you’re not paying that much attention. A few moments later Marylin enters, ordering herself something at the counter (probably her usual matcha latte) before making her way over to the three of you.

“Fancy seeing you here stranger.” She grins.

“Marylin! It’s so nice to see you again. How’s the greenhouse?” You ask.

“Really well actually! Not to toot my own horn but my nightshades are doing quite well for this time of year.”

The two of you chat for a while, Marylin laughing at your dry humour and resting her hand on your shoulder.

“Mayor Walker, this is Marylin Thornhill.” Larissa says, interrupting your conversation with the redhead and gesturing to the woman in question, “In the spirit of outreach, she's Nevermore's first normie teacher.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Marilyn smiles.

The four of you chat for a while, Larissa shooting Marylin a look every time she laughs at one of your jokes. Eventually, the mayor leaves to get ready for the ceremony and Marylin leaves to gather the students. You’re standing with Larissa at the door when she suddenly pulls you incredibly close and grips your chin between her sinfully long fingers.

“Darling, I have had such a wonderful time with you today,” she purrs.

You feel your face heat exponentially, feeling flustered by both her sultry tone and her proximity.

“Uhm uh no-no problem! I aim to please.”

“And what a good job you do of that, hm?”

You’re sure if you weren’t basically leaning against her you probably would’ve collapsed at her words. She’s honestly looking at you like she wants to eat you (which you are never opposed to). A group of students, led by Marylin pass by, the woman sending you a bright smile and a wave.

You half expect her to let you go, put some distance between the two of you. But to your utter delight, she decides to double down on her affection, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then your lips. You stare up at her, wide-eyed and so in love.

“What was that for?” You whisper.

“Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend just because?” She hums, pressing another kiss to your cheek.

“No! You totally can! I just- well with all the students around I just thought maybe you- I mean you have this image as like the principal and all-“ you explain, feeling warm all over.

“Well, I care far less about maintaining a reputation than I do about making sure you know exactly how I feel about you.” She grins.

“And perhaps ensuring no one gets any ideas about trying to seduce you.” She mumbles afterwards.

You giggle at that, stretching up to press a kiss to her cheek. You poke her nose gently, smirking up at her.

“Larissa Weems, do I detect jealousy in your tone?” You tease.

“I-I do not get jealous.” She huffs, her cheeks gaining a pink tinge.

“Sure you don’t,” you chuckle, “so I guess you wouldn’t mind me hanging out with Marylin during your fancy ceremony?”

“Absolutely not-“

“AHA!”

“…Perhaps you may have been the slightest bit correct in your assumption…” She sighs, blushing and looking anywhere but at you.

“Well, it’s a good thing I only have eyes for you then, isn’t it?”

She pauses for a moment, gaping down at you, but then she fucking beams, looking so fucking happy you wish you could freeze this moment and have her this happy for eternity.

“Mm, I don’t think anyone could ever be as stunning and goddamn enthralling as you. So I guess you’re stuck with me.” You finish, smiling dopily up at her.

“You really are delightful darling.” She hums “Whatever did I do to deserve you…”

“You’ll never believe it, you actually just existed.” You finish with a fake gasp. “Now go do your fancy ceremony, pretty lady.”

She snorts, pressing one last kiss to your lips before letting you go. She then saunters off towards the town square and you do shamelessly stare at her ass for as long as you can. You’re broken from your admittedly unholy thoughts by James slapping his hand onto your shoulder.

“Come on whore, let’s go watch your girlfriend's special ceremony.”

——————————

The statue exploded.

If you were honest, the statue was awfully ugly and it exploding wasn’t a terrible loss. But you would not express these thoughts to Larissa who was currently angrily looming over her fireplace.

When the explosion had happened you had freaked the fuck out before immediately searching for Larissa. She had, thank the gods, been unharmed by the explosion. You ran to check up on her, fussing over her as she assured you she was fine.

She had been, and there is really no better way to put this, absolutely fucking livid. You hadn’t understood why until you noticed Wednesday, sitting playing her cello while everyone else ran screaming.

So now, right after Larissa had spent a good 15 minutes yelling at the girl before she left, you decided voicing your opinion on the shittiness of the destroyed statue was not a good idea.

“This is an absolute disaster.” She murmurs.

“It’ll be okay. The statue-“

“This isn’t about the bloody statue!” She yells, whipping around to face you. “It’s about what this does to our reputation! All the work I’ve put in to make things better with the townspeople, with the normies, all of it destroyed because of one selfish brooding teenager!”

You flinch at her yelling, shrinking back into the couch a bit. She notices, freezing and shrinking a little into herself. She opens her mouth to speak before clearing her throat.

“I-I’m sorry. I…” she starts, turning back to face the fireplace. “Maybe it would be best if you went home for the night. You shouldn’t have to- you shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

You stand up at that, quickly walking over to her and gently coaxing her to turn around with your hands on her hips. When she finally faces you, she looks so ashamed. There are tears gathering in her gorgeous blue eyes and your heart cracks a little.

“You’re allowed to be upset honey.” You start, making sure to look her in the eye. “I will admit, the yelling scared me a little- but! But it’s okay because you’ve had a fucking awful afternoon. And I know how hard you’ve worked on getting the townspeople to be less stupid and bigoted towards you. You put in so much hard work and you are making a difference. And today was probably a setback, yes, but that doesn’t mean all your hard work goes away okay? You’re so incredible, Larissa. I can’t- I don’t know how to explain how inspiring you are with your passion and care for your students and this school.”

You notice her chin wobbling a bit as she swallows and wipes at her eyes to try stop the tears from falling. She’s terribly unsuccessful at it but you don’t mention that, reaching up to wipe her cheeks for her.

“So today was fucked. And that sucks. And if you want to cry or yell or scream, I’ll be here the whole time. But remember that you are amazing and a fucking genius. So tomorrow we can worry about the angry people and the mayor, and all that stuff. But tonight, I want you to feel all the awful feelings you’re having and then you’re going to come with me to bed and cuddle my brilliant ass all night long. Okay?”

She laughs, a watery sad sound that squeezes your heart. You lead her to the couch, sitting down and pulling her into your lap. She buries her head in your neck, her tears soaking into your skin. You hold her for a long while, letting her cry and curl into you. Every now and again she hiccups something between her sobs. You just sit with her, running your hand through her hair and pressing kisses to the crown of her head between reassurances.

Eventually, she runs out of tears, taking a shuddering breath as she sits up breathing deeply. She looks awfully small at this moment, her eyes red-rimmed and her face wet from her tears. You cup her cheek with your hand, pressing a kiss to her nose. She scrunches her nose cutely at the sensation and you resist the urge to coo at her.

“Shall we go to bed, my pretty lady?” You ask softly.

She nods, standing from your lap and helping you up. You walk her to her room, helping her take down her hair and wipe off her makeup. You do make corny jokes every now and again earning cute smiles and soft laughter from the blonde. When you’re both settled in her bed, you on your back with her laying on top of you (you don’t mention how the weight of her on you feels so comforting you want to cry about it.) she speaks.

“Thank you for- for everything, darling.” She whispers, nuzzling into your chest.

“It really was my pleasure hon. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” You whisper back, wrapping your arm around her waist. The two of you fall asleep that way, Larissa’s head on your chest, your arms wrapped around her, thinking of how absolutely in love you are with this woman.

[offbrandkyoya]

82 think about it

previous | masterlist | next

Scaramouche was sent back to the hotel the boys were staying in. You stayed right by his bedside, holding his hand. He exhausted himself out and fell asleep. You watch him sleep peacefully but your heart aches for him. To think his mother was behind it all.

You hear commotion from the other side of the room causing Scaramouche to stir a little. You stand up and shush him. “Sleep.” You whisper and plant a kiss on his forehead. You quietly exit the room and are faced with Zhongli and Venti arguing. You’re surprised Zhongli even gets angry. Venti notices you and smiles forcefully. “Oh Yn! I’m sorry if this knucklehead over here caused you to wake up!” “I wasn’t asleep to begin with…” You mutter but venti could care less.

“Why are you guys fighting?” You finally ask and Venti scoffs. “Because it’s Zhonglis fault that Ei is back.” “How?!” He fires back. “I didn’t cause the downfall! You did! All because-“ “All because what? Finish that sentence, Zhongli!” You gasp, “Wait! You two were with Ei?! So you guys are the popular band that stupid lady was talking about!” “Unfortunately…” They eye each other. You blink, glancing back at the two of you. “Hold on…how old are you guys?” “Is Scaramouche okay?” Childe makes his way to the conversation.

You nod with a smile. “He’s still sleeping.” He sighs, “I can’t believe this. I had a hunch but…” He bit his lip. “Damn it! I didn’t think that bitch would come back!” You frown. “You know his mom?” “Of course I do. We’re childhood friends. When she left, my family took care of him. Like seriously! Who abandons their kid not even halfway through their childhood and then comes back to their adult life just so they can show off the talent they abandoned because of their trauma?!”

Zhongli rubs his temples. “We need to do something about her. Now that she’s back, it might stir some controversy.” “Oh really?” Venti rolls his eyes and Zhongli glares. “Venti, all I want is for this to be over.” “Look, Scaramouche is MY friend.” “He’s mine too! I genuinely care for him!” Venti crosses his arms. “Do you? Or you just using him for your own selfishness just like old times?” Zhongli scoffs and storms off. You frown at Venti. “I know you aren’t on good terms but-“ “Yn, stay out of it.” He insists and walks to his room.

You let out a sigh and see Childe staring at the direction Zhongli took. “Continue looking after him.” He tells you and follows his leader. It’s easy to tell that he’s in love with Zhongli. You listen and walk back into Scaramouche’s room.

Childe spots Zhongli outside, leaning onto the wall. The ginger takes in a breath and exits to building. He stands next to Zhongli. “Hey,” He says and Zhongli turns to him. “Childe!” He sighs. “I’m…Im so sorry you had to see that.“ Childe smiles softly. “It’s okay, really. I know you’re having a hard time. That situation isn’t easy.” “Tell me about it.” Zhongli sighs again.

Childe frowns and scoots a little bit closer to Zhongli. “Did you and Venti ever…like each other?” He questions because it was eating up inside him. Zhongli looks at him bewildered then chuckled. “Oh no. We were just friends. People thought we were but there was nothing between us.” He stares up at the sky. “We all were friends.” “What happened?” Childe asks. Zhongli stays silent for a moment, continuing to look up. Childe stares at him with sorrow.

“You don’t have to answer.” Childe says but Zhongli shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” He faces him with a warm smile. “I trust you.” The ginger blushes. “Y-You do?” Zhongli laughs like Childe just asked a stupid question. “Of course I do. You’re special to me.” Childe blushes even harder. “Oh. You’re special to me too.” “Thank you.” Zhongli says and Childe smiles wide. He ignores the butterflies in his stomach.

“Well,” Zhongli goes back to the topic. “I guess Ei was the first to start acting out.” He folds his arms. “Now that I know, her pregnancy was the reason she started acting off and why she left abruptly.” He takes a small pause. “Venti lost a close friend during that time.” Another pause. “And I lost someone too.” Childes eyes widen. “Oh.” “Yes, we both dealt with sudden deaths but I took it hard the most. I regret my actions a lot. I responded with rage and I would take my anger out on Venti sometimes.”

He sighs, “Venti would respond with anger too. He started to nitpick everything I did and ended up taking all the workload.” Zhongli glances at Childe. “When Ei left, Venti and I agreed to disband permanently. The three of us had fun but our emotions got in our way. What we loved most was music but in the end, we ended up giving up. .” Zhongli takes in a breath then smiles. “I hope you don’t hate me.”

Childe stares at him with wide eyes. “Hate you? I don’t..I’d never hate you, Zhongli.” Suddenly, he grabs hold of Zhonglis hand. “I mean it when I say that you’re special to me. You can never make me hate you.” It’s Zhonglis turn to be surprised. “Childe-“ Out of nowhere, Childe smashes his lips onto his. He pulls away with a red face. “That’s why I can’t hate you.” Zhongli stands still and touches his lips. “That…that was unexpected.” Childes heart hurt. “Oh you don’t feel the same?” “I never said that.”

Zhongli scratches his cheek. “It’s sudden.” Childe frowns and lets go of his hand. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” Zhongli looks down to the side. “I need to think.” “Oh.” Childe holds his arms. “I’m going back to our hotel.” Zhongli couldn’t answer as Childe hurriedly left the scene. The man sighs while running fingers through his hair. “Damn.”

- that’s gay

- I can’t keep doing med anymore I need to go back to the kitchen

- my cat is saur loud guys he makes me EXPLODE

🏷️ @sakiimeo @coquettemaiden @rmiyuki @kur44pika @theblueblub @jxxji0309 @dreamsofminnie @ohmyfinggod @redactedhimbo @kunisbeloved @akagism2 @sketcheeee @thefandomcrow @beriiov @thenightsflower @yukiipc @scaraapologist @scarletttcroww @samyayaya @crucnhice @monaypo1 @feiherp @myaaones @warcelia @hangecanweholdhands @yuminako @valiryyz @screechingxiaolover @tiddieshakeshownu @ilovechuuyaa @d4y-dr3am3r @dazaisfavgf @swivy123 @ganyusbrideee @sagegreenthinks @the-left-glove @wonderland-fan @kylexzz @kaoyamamegami @whycantscarabereal @rvoulte @eunchaeluvr @lxkeeeee @silvermah @baby-bread-in @yelleloww @magica-ren @itzblazekun @im-inlovewithy0u @featuredtofu @anastaxiah @ask-aph-tanzania @drmyday @what-just-happened-huh @xtobefreex @v4lerixxq @duckyyyx @hannoahs-third-eyelash @brain-r0tt @iota1111 @accio-fandom @kaitfae

[slafkovskys]

i’m not sure if you have anything that plays with the grumpy x sunshine fort f thing but all i can picture is jamie not even being against his sister and mact (because i can’t picture jamie with a bad bone in his body) but rather he’s just worried about how different they are?

like mact is just this confident, kinda stoic man, and his sister is like sunshine (sometimes feisty sunshine) embodied and he’s just concerned

and then he sees them together and he’s like “oooh. maybe this will work.”

-🎪

jamie drysdale has had to see mason mctavish a lot that summer.

don’t get him wrong, mason was a friend. a teammate. he had a lot of respect for the guy and would never utter a bad word about him, but he often wondered why he had to choose his sister.

they wouldn’t tell him when they got together, but he knew it happened some point during the season because by the time they returned to canada for the summer, the two were inseparable. mason had pretty much taken up permanent residence at his parents house (seriously, the guy got mail there the other day) and now had his own mug in the cupboard. jamie wanted to ask if his own mother missed him, but he refrained.

he just doesn’t understand why-

he hears the heavy sound of the wooden gate slamming shut and he watches as- oh? he watches as a smile tugs at the corner of mason’s lips as his younger sister makes his way up the stairs. mason pushes his chair away from the table, eyes twinkling in the fairy lights as she enthusiastically waves her hands, “sorry i’m late. we got slammed right before i was supposed to leave, so i had to take an extra table.”

“not like we were waiting for the birthday girl to be here to blow out the candles on her cake or anything,” carly teases the girl who not-so-subtly flips up her middle finger at her blonde best friend.

she wraps her arms around mason, pushing herself up on her converse clad feet to press a quick kiss to his lips before tucking herself into his chest, “what did i miss?”

“nothing much. like carly said, couldn’t really start without you,” he teases gently. he presses a quick kiss to her temple when she turns to thank someone for coming, still wrapped tightly around his body, “have you eaten?”

“i had lunch and ray made me some cheese fries before i left,” she hums. ray, a cook at her summer waitressing job who was old enough to be her father, always made sure everyone ate no matter what. mason hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of her picking a shift on her birthday, but she insisted on how good her tips would be as she clipped the birthday girl ribbon to the tank top with the restaurant's logo plastered on the front. that tank top was hidden now, covered along with the bike shorts by a too big team canada hoodie that (based on the number on the arm) could only belong to one guy. she pokes at his chest, “plus, i was promised by both my brother and my boyfriend that i would have the cook out of my dreams.”

“food’s in the kitchen, princess gets first dibs,” jamie raises his drink to the girl, “happy birthday.”

“thank you, jay. seriously, but i want to sit down for like five minutes first. everyone else can go ahead, but you better save me a hamburger!” she calls as their friends trample in through the open patio door. she allows herself to be pulled down on mason’s lap with a sigh, “i lied, i don’t know if i can get up now. you’re comfy.”

“guess i’ll just have to carry you around for the rest of the night, hm?” mason’s tone is teasing as his fingers drum at her thigh.

“i definitely wouldn’t object to that.”

and that’s when it clicks for jamie, when it’s just the three of them out there and he’s a silent witness to their conversation. while she loved people and enjoyed being a light, mason just tolerated everyone except for her and it was obvious in his actions. how attentive he was, how he looked for her in every room, how he was always attached to her like a magnet.

they may be opposites, but they were made for each other.

[specialagentlokitty]

Bucky x reader - have hope

Heyy i was the one that asked if you write for bucky, in need of some Bucky comfort right now, could you do a bucky x depressed reader no specifics other than that, thank you! - Anon💜

TW: mentions of depression

You had never really thought about life outside of what you usually did, go to work at a job you didn’t even enjoy, go shopping, go home, eat, sleep, then do it all over again the next day.

Some people got everything handed to them without having to work for it, others had to work but had enough free time to enjoy a social life.

Then there were the ones like you.

You worked tirelessly for days on end, sometimes going weeks without a proper break just to be able to afford a basic living, to be able to afford basic things like some food and a few clothes as and when you need them.

It was exhausting, you worked through sickness after sickness because you couldn’t even afford to take time off for illnesses.

Today was no different, you finished work extremely late, and you were exhausted as you were walking home.

The streets of Brooklyn weren’t exactly safe, so you tried to keep yourself to the main streets where there were cameras and lights.

Your legs were aching, and you found a bench to sit on, taking a sip from the water bottle in your hand.

You weren’t going to be able to do this for much longer, if it wasn’t the exhaustion that killed you first, it was going to be whatever this illness you had.

You coughed a few times, taking a few small breaths.

Getting up, you began to walk again, occasionally stopping to take a few minutes to breath before you kept going.

As usual, like clockwork you passed the same man you did each night, he always seemed to do his shopping extremely late.

“You look sick.” He said.

You stopped to look at him.

“And you should live off more than pot noodles.”

He glanced down at the bag in his hand, before turning back to you.

“I don’t know how to cook.”

You hummed, nodding your head, and he fell in line with you.

At first, he used to just wait for you to leave before taking the path to wherever he lived, and then he realised you two lived close by, and no matter what he was doing he was bound to run into you.

Eventually you two started to just walk together, not saying anything, but he always made sure you got home safely.

Eventually you started holding small conversations with him as he was the only person outside of work you could speak too.

Though you never share any personal information with each other like your names or what you did for work.

It was still nice.

“Are you sick?” He asked.

You glanced up at him before turning your attention back to the path.

“No, I’m just tired.”

“Why?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Is it because of work?”

“I guess that’s part of it.”

He nodded his head, stopping by some traffic lights to wait for it to let you two to go through.

“You should take some time to rest.”

You scoffed a little.

“Life doesn’t work like that, but you should really consider learning how to cook. Like seriously man, I can’t imagine living off that stuff is healthy.”

“I don’t own an oven.”

You whipped your head around to him.

“Seriously?”

“I can’t cook, so I don’t need one.”

You blinked a few times and turned away from him.

“Meet me at the shops again tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

You both parted at the usual street.

The following night, you waiting outside the shop for your companion, and he turned up a few minutes later.

He walked over and you held up a bag to him.

“I usually batch cook my food and had to make room in my freezer anyway. They’ve been in the freezer at work so they’re still good.”

“Don’t you need them?”

“Just take it man, it’s healthier. I’m not the best cook though so might be a little bland.”

He nodded his head, taking the bag from you, and you both made your way back down the same route you usually went.

“I’ll bring you some more each week.”

“How much do you want for them?”

“They’re free, don’t bother trying to pay me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m doing this freely, it helps keep my freezer cleared out, so I don’t mind.”

“Why do you batch cook?”

“It’s easier I guess, and cheaper.”

He nodded his head in understanding, and he watch as you sat on a bench, taking a moment to breath.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re sick, if we go to the hospital we can get you something that’ll help. You’ve been sick for a few weeks.” He noted.

You scoffed a little bit.

“It’s a waste of time.”

“Do you not care about your own safety?”

“I’m just going to get sick again. I’ll get better in a few weeks, always do so what’s the point of wasting time and money.”

He frowned a little bit, setting the bag down and he sat down next to you.

“You overwork yourself, I have a friend who does that, I can see the signs.”

“Yeah, well that’s just life.”

He turned his head to you, clasping his hands together.

“I believe there is more to life than working yourself to your own death.”

“Some of us don’t get that luxury, life dealt me some pretty shitty cards, but what’s the point in crying about it. Just gotta suck it up, pull up our grown up pants and get on with it.”

He rose a brow at your choice of words.

“You’ve lost all hope.” He said quietly.

You gave a small shrug.

“We should get going before your food defrosts.”

You stood up, walking again and he scrambled to follow you, quickly catching up to your slowish pace.

“Not everybody has the ability to hope.”

“I understand.”

You looked at him in confusion.

He stopped walking so you did as well.

“Sometimes I have no hope, for a long time of my life I lived without hope. I didn’t even know the meaning of hope, or what it felt like. But I’m still learning what that means, sometimes I still feel like there’s no hope for me in this world.”

You slowly nodded your head.

“What gives you hope?”

“My friend gives me hope, and so does looking at the sunrise, or taking a walk in the park.”

“Really?”

He hummed a little bit, nodding his head.

“You give me hope too.”

“Me?”

“I see you every day on your way home from work, and no matter how tired, or sick, or in pain you are you still show up everyday. Maybe you don’t have a choice, but you refuse to lay down and accept the hand you’ve been dealt.”

“It’s just normal…”

“Nah, there’s more. You could just accept your fate, but you refuse. You’re working your way to trying to change it, not many people have the strength or dedication to do that.”

“I’m stuck, I’ll never be able to get out of this place. I’ll be lucky if I can even save enough more to retire on, hell, I’ll be lucky to even retire.”

He sighed a little bit.

“You have to believe in yourself more, you are trying your best.” He whispered.

“I could do better.”

“Hey, don’t say that.”

“How can I not man? I could.”

“You are trying your best, you are doing everything you can, don’t beat yourself up over that.”

You sighed, turning away from him.

“Bucky.”

You looked up again.

“What?”

“My name is Bucky.”

He gave you a little smile.

“I’m (Y/N).”

“Promise me you won’t give up hope (Y/N).”

“I can’t promise you that…”

Bucky sighed, placing his hands on his knees, leaning down a little so he could look into your eyes.

“Always have hope (Y/N).”

He gave you another little smile.

“We can both learn how to have hope.”

He picked up his bag again, and you both carried on walking while you thought about what Bucky had told you

[charmikarma]

hallo it's me. (crookedgrifter) I'm back and I want your davejade / davejadekat thoughts. gimme

my thoughts huh ... i sure am a rambler so you're gonna get a whole essay on this

i guess in thinking abt davejadekat it always starts with jade. which is well enough because davekat has been talked to death at this point, hasn't it? i don't think i could tell you anything new or interesting about that dynamic at this point.

ANYWAY. jade. i kind of get into this in my polar express fic which ik you've read, but she is SO lonely. what the fuck are you supposed to do for ~10 years alone on an island with just a dog?? a dog who could take you somewhere else, somewhere with people, but he won't. and maybe jade knows why because of her dreams on prospit, but also maybe not! either way i think she puts a lot of faith in her dreams. it's kind of the only hope she has for the future.

i think she also has some hope in dave, this really cool dude she has this awkward internet middle school crush on. and dave is super cool to her too! i think it's implied he furry roleplays with her even?? cutest shit ever. i think this is the thing that has made me always love davejade ... they are just. so sweet to each other. dave clearly cares SO much about her.

the other thing about jade is... she's kinda fucked over repeatedly by the narrative, isn't she? she's the last beta kid introduced, so she has a lot less time to develop. the closest she really gets to developing is being really pissed off at karkat after her dreamself dies (i'll talk about this in a sec). her arc basically ends at cascade. her character arc ends in the dead middle of the comic, in a flash animation that contains exactly 0 character development. hussie says so himself in the author's notes. (don't even get me started on the author's notes jesus christ.) everything that happens on the boat is pretty much irrelevant, because it gets retconned out. instead she spends 3 years completely fucking alone, and we like... barely unpack this in canon.

so her life story up until this point is basically: raised by grandpa till ~3-5ish > living on her own till 13 > meeting dave briefly in the game > DAVE FUCKING DIES IN FRONT OF HER, WITH HER OWN BULLETS > she meets john briefly > JOHN AND DAVESPRITE FUCKING DIE > she spends 3 years alone with no solace except "yeah they had to die but you'll see them again in the new session" from alt!calliope and i guess a bunch of sprites and consorts and chess dudes. she says it herself: as nice as it is to have these folks around, they're not able to relate to her. they're not fellow thirteen year old kids. she may not be technically alone, but she is essentially alone, and she just 1. died twice in one day and 2. witnessed the deaths of several of her friends.

more on being fucked over by the narrative - jade actually has a kind of interesting dynamic with karkat in the middle of a5a2! what happens with this dynamic later on? fucking nothing!!!! like seriously i am so interested in this whole. self-hatred parallel that gets drawn between them and then how jade puts her foot down and is like you are fucking nuts. no more yelling at yourself. and it goes nowhere!! this dynamic exists for like, maybe 1% of the comic. it's really fucking sad honestly. even at the very end of homestuck, she has to be sidelined for being too powerful, thereby excluding her from all the endgame convos. like we cannot win with her

ok anyway, here's where i get into the stuff i think is really interesting. at the end of homestuck, alt!calliope tells jade that she's suffered enough, and that it's time for her to live her life how she wants to. we don't see how this plays out in homestuck proper, BUT...... the epilogues. sighs heavily.

i may be an epilogues lover but even i have to admit that jade's portrayal is.... a mess. i don't think it's wildly out of character, exactly, but it definitely toes the line... and it's definitely extremely fucking uncomfortable. it does, however, give me some insight into how i think about jade now, because while the minutiae don't really feel in character, i do think the broad strokes of what they were going for make sense.

jade took alt!calliope's words and said, fuck it. i will take charge! i won't wait anymore! i am going to have what i want. and she does get a lot of that! she gets to hang out with her friends, hang out with her brother, meet a ton of people, have a bunch of sex (presumably when she's older), and so on. but see... doing a lot of things doesn't really fill the emptiness she feels. she has so much love to give and not enough outlet for it. she needs all the love in the world and has nobody to give it to her. and she still has this big fat ten-year-old crush on dave strider that never went anywhere. but the approach she takes to life now is just... so incompatible with what dave needs. same for karkat. they both need a LOT of patience to come out of their shells, and jade is living life in the fast lane. the more she pushes, the more withdrawn they become. it is a disaster.

i want to fix it so fucking bad.

jade needs a lot of character development for all this to work, but the dynamic is absolutely there. some of their convos in early meat are so fucking funny dude, they are such good friends. it is absolutely not for lack of caring on either dave or karkat's part that things don't work out in the epilogues. it's this disconnect between what jade thinks is helpful and what dave and karkat need. i really want jade to find the balance between living at breakneck speed and waiting ten years for something to happen. i want her to feel loved for once in her damn life. and i want dave and karkat to stop being such depressing shut-ins. please guys you could balance each other out if you would just figure out how to communicate

anyway. there's your essay. it's mostly about jade. hope that's ok. i love jade harley so much my ultimate goal is to see her happy and mark my words i will figure out how

[hugmeimtouchdeprived]

Ghost! Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader - Chapter 2

Chapter 2!!! I'm busy with school and assignments and looking for a summer job and starting my final thesis, but I write when I have time and energy to do so😊

Let's ignore the fact that I posted this a few hours ago, but deleted it because I came up with something that I really wanted to change so I'm posting it again now

Content warning: Talk of possible stalking and breaking in (not really what's happening, but it's mentioned?), mention of blood.

Original drabble | Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

“Come on, what else could it be?”

“I’m not being haunted, Donna,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose between two fingers. You glance around the small café, fairly empty of other patrons at this time of the day. The two of you sit next to the large windows, watching as people walk and drive by. It’s a weekday, middle of the day, so most people are likely still at school or work.

Donna is an old family friend. Used to be your neighbour when you were a kid and would often babysit you if your parents couldn’t find another babysitter. The two of you grew close until she got married and moved to the states briefly, before returning with her wife. It’s rare the two of you get time to see each other, but it’s always nice when you do.

You swear she hasn’t changed a bit since you were a kid. She’s in her early 50s, you’d guess, and still just as full of energy as she was all those years ago. Her wife is a bit of a mystery to you, but you know she travels a lot for work.

And that Donna loves her more than anything.

“What else could it be?” Donna repeats for the hundredth time. “You’re being followed by something; we both know it,” she insists. Donna has always been fairly enthusiastic, or at least interested in, the afterlife and ghosts and whatnot. You, not so much. Sure, it is intriguing, what happens after death and all the different views on the subject, if ghosts and spirits exist. Intriguing, but not very believable in your mind.

“You know, there was that terrorist attack in that tunnel a few months ago. A lot of people died there, I heard there was a soldier that passed, too,” she continues, her tone more serious now.

Donna always seems to know things. Sure, the attack, its casualties, have been public knowledge, at least some part of it. But Donna always seems to have more information than even the news do. You always joke she must have someone on the inside of all these things. “Something like that,” she’d respond.

You told her about everything as a joke, to try and ease your own nerves. She ended up taking it way more seriously than you would have anticipated. Maybe you should have predicted that, in hindsight, but at least she doesn’t seem to think you’ve lost your mind.

And sure, you promised yourself you wouldn’t talk about it to anyone, that you’d just go on with your merry life and ignore it, assume it’s a figment of your imagination. But you trust Donna, you wouldn’t be surprised if she knows you better than your parents do. Probably better than you do, if you’re being honest. And things really are getting out of hand with your ghostly friend. Roommate, squatter, stalker, whatever. You’re not sure what to call him, but it’s all too real to really keep ignoring it.

He’s in your goddamn home, your sanctuary, your safe space. Where you haven’t yet allowed even some of your friends to visit, you’re not sure if your coworkers even really know where you live. And this- this thing has invaded it, made himself right at home. Begging, yelling at him to leave you alone, to leave your home at once. The train station and the bookstore were manageable, at least. This? No. No way. This is your home, your apartment. It’s yours! You live alone and you quite like that, thank you very much.

You swear you see the shadow shake and shift, as if trying to hold in his laughter. He does seem to give you more space after that, though; instead of standing right next to or behind you, he stands in doorways, corners of rooms. That’s something, you guess.

And that’s the other thing. He’s so human, you often mistake him for an actual person standing in the corner of your room. It’s like having an extra clingy roommate, following you around the apartment. At least you can shower and change your clothes in peace. (That’s what you think. He’s not snooping or being creepy, of course not! He’s just lonely, needs the comfort of being with someone.)

It’s almost freaky how used to it you’ve gotten. It has been, what, a few months? You know by now that he, whoever he is, isn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.

The shadow in the corner of your eye no longer freaks you out nearly as much. You still don’t know who he is, or was, why he’s here and with you of all people, but you accept it. Not that you’d have a choice in the matter, anyway.

You watch movies with him. You see him next to you on your couch, almost feel his weight on the cushions, as if sitting next to a real, living person. Somehow, you can just tell when you’ve picked something he likes. The air around you feels different, more relaxed. He looks like he’s leaning forward in his seat, sitting on the edge of the couch when the movie gets exciting or interesting. You hear him laugh, not even the airy sound it was before, but an almost proper one.

He audibly groans if you pick something he doesn’t like. Might even throw a pillow on the floor or keeps turning the tv off. You’ll either scold him and keep attempting to turn it back on until he gets bored and gives up, or you’ll give up first and put on something he might like more. Problem is, you’re both stubborn beings, and might “argue” over the movie for a long time.

During horror movies you find yourself leaning towards him, looking for that feeling of safety he provides. It always takes you a moment to realize you can’t curl into his side, with his arm around you, like you would if he was physically there.

As more time goes by, you see more of him. He becomes more refined, quite literally. Going from a shadow in the corner of your eye, disappearing the moment you try to look at it, to what you’re sure is a human man. You can’t exactly see the details of his features, his face, but there are some things that are certain.

He's tall. Taller than you, at least. Muscular, too, by the looks of it, and wearing some sort of gear. Military, maybe? Donna did mention hearing of some soldier who died in those tunnels some months ago. Or maybe you’re being haunted by some terrorist who has taken a liking to you. You sincerely hope it’s the first one, though.

And then there’s the very obvious gunshot wound to his temple, oozing blood down the side of his face and neck. It drips down his chin and vanishes before hitting the floor. It’s more visible in darkness, or in the light of the moon and stars. You do your best to ignore it, there’ll be time to ask about it later. Surely not a subject he’d be very open to discuss or reminisce over.

At some point, it starts to feel nice to have some company over, even if it means you get little to no privacy. His presence makes you feel safer, in a way. You’re not sure if he could do much if someone was to break into your apartment or harass you at work or while running errands, or if he even would do anything to help you, but it still feels almost like having a guard dog. A dog that no one else can even see, unless he wants to be seen.

That’s what you think, at least. You see him because he wants you to. There’s not much concrete evidence of how ghosts really work, so you’re mostly going on what you’ve read about the subject and different cultures, and your own gut instinct.

You know your ghost can talk, too. A little bit, at least, not quite full sentences. You’ve heard what you swear was a laugh, a groan, mumbled words. He’s getting stronger, and you’re certain he will answer your questions, eventually. You’ll be patient.

One evening, you ask for his name while getting ready for bed in the bathroom. You see his hulking figure behind you in the mirror, dark shadow almost looking like he’s leaning against the wall. Not that you were expecting any response, but it’s still disappointing to not get one. The bar of soap at your sink gets tossed to the floor. “It was just a question, you know. No need to start throwing stuff around if you don’t want to answer,” you mumble as you pick it up. It’s back on the floor as soon as you turn your back to toss your clothes in the laundry basket.

You wake up feeling cold that night. Glancing at the clock, it’s barely past midnight. You close your eyes, wanting to go back to sleep; having an early morning tomorrow, you want to at least try to get a proper night of sleep.

Something’s wrong, though. It takes you a while to realize what exactly that is. It’s cold, unusually so even under your thick duvet. A weight behind you in bed as you lie on her side. An arm around your waist, weighing you down. Someone’s cold, hard chest pressed against your back.

This is a dream. A fucking nightmare. It must be.

Feeling the weight shift behind you, a cold breath of air at the back of your neck, wakes you up rather quickly. The panic settles in slow, creeping up as you process the situation, eyes wide open.

You squeeze your eyes shut, considering your options. You could tear that arm off you and make a run for it. Scream as you go, get the attention of your neighbours; the middle-aged lady whose name you haven’t bothered to learn, who is always so quick to blame you for any and every sound she hears. Or you could just go back to sleep, ignore your problems until the morning, or until the person behind you decides to do something. Just- just ignore it until then.

Or you could turn around and see who it is.

What if they’re not even asleep? Watching, waiting for you to react?

You try to rationalize it, you always do. Always have a plan, always prepared for anything.

Not this, though.

How the hell could anyone ever be prepared for waking up to something like this?

You try to move, to slide out of bed, moving so slow the person behind you wouldn’t notice if they’re truly asleep. Their grip only tightens around your waist, stilling your movement. You hold your breath.

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?!

What’s a person supposed to do here, in a situation like this? You’ve heard enough horror stories – stories from real life, real people, not mere fiction – about how these things usually end. A woman living alone, someone forcing entry to their home after weeks, or even months of stalking them, getting to know their schedule, their workplace, their life. Every option, every possible action you could take has its risks, and your mind in running a million miles per hour.

You decide to turn, the pure fear getting to you. Fear of simply not knowing who this person is, why or how they’re here, in your home. In your bed.

You turn, moving slowly and carefully again, to face whoever is in the bed with you. Your heart pounds in your chest, the fear and anxiety or what or who you’ll see terrifying you to your very core.

There’s nothing there. In the dark room, you only see the moonlight peeking through the blinds, not doing much to light your room.

There’s nothing there.

Your eyes close and you take a deep breath, telling yourself it was some fucked up dream that just felt too real. You have been stressed out lately, more so than usual, so it's not that out of the question that it would start affecting you in different ways.

You promptly choose to ignore the still cold to the touch indentation on the mattress beside you.

You don’t even notice the now familiar eyes watching you from the corner of your bedroom.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!🌷

Also, I've been very busy and stressed recently, mostly with uni and assignments and starting my final thesis. I've found writing this to be sort of relaxing, like a way to get my mind off of things when it gets too much and my brain turns to mush. :)