#you were allowed to film but i didn't want to hold my phone way up and block the person behind me

[thegirl20]

undefined

[ms-demeanor]

Why reblog machine-generated art?

When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.

When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.

When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.

When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.

You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.

And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.

My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.

People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.

I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?

The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.

I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.

However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.

Also because it's just patently untrue.

But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.

It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.

I liked it.

I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.

Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)

Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?

My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.

What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.

And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).

There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.

I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.

Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.

[goldenstring6123]

HIIIYAAAYAYA I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND I LOOK FORWARD TO EVERY SINGLE PIECE YOU RELEASE!!! YOU HAVE ME CHECKING YOUR PAGE 24/7 IM OBSESSEDDD 🫦🫦 ANYWHO ignore my fawning but how do you think the lads boys would react to a suuuuper clingy gf??? idk but if i were mc i would NOT be leaving their side and would literally be glued onto their body like mc is a strong soldier for resisting (especially rafayel my HUSBAND 😩) literally wanna just curl up in their lap and carve myself into their ribcage so they can never escape from me tehe. ALSOOO U DON’T GOTTA RESPOND IF UR BUSY OR UNCOMFY!!!! JUST KNOW I LOVE YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITING 🫶🫶

Lnds: Sticky little lover

Warning: vaguely suggestive, mentions of hickeys, fem!reader, clingy!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, there might be spelling mistakes, I haven't proofread yet.

Author's note: Awieee thank u sm pookie! I understand the feeling of wanting to latch onto the LIs~

Zayne:

Zayne wakes up with you on his chest, your leg over his crotch, and your arm across his stomach. To him, you were like a weighted stuffed toy and a weighted blanket, all at the same time. He wasn't complaining; maybe it was an excuse to stay in bed for another half an hour.

The bathroom is big enough for the two of you, with two wash basins, a separate shower, and a bathtub. There are three bathrooms in the house, but you always choose the one he uses. He's complained once, but you said you didn't like the interior design of the others. Side by side, you brush your teeth and comb your hair while he shaves and flosses. If you wake up earlier than usual, maybe he'll let you moisturize and exfoliate his face. It's no surprise Zayne leaves the bathroom door open for you. It's just normal for both of you to cross paths in the large bathroom.

When he leaves for work, you never miss a day to kiss his nose and give him a quick peck. You embrace him with two arms, but he hugs you back with one, the other hand holding his bag. You don't mind.

Your message gallery is filled with pictures of your mundane life: a snapshot of a book you're reading, the new coffee you tried, the little teacup Maltese that reminded you of him. Even though he's busy, he always finds time to react, and if he doesn't, he brings up the picture when you pick him up at the end of the day. He never forgets.

Calm days are spent in each other's presence. You always cling to him in one way or another. While he's reading a book, your feet are on his lap, and his fingers unknowingly knead your ankles. While watching a movie, your shoulders touch, and your hands are intertwined. When you react to the film, his hand, still holding yours, follows your movements.

Dates are always fun. It doesn't matter where you go or what you do as long as Zayne's in your company. Cafe dates are cute, but Zayne always calls you out for staring at him with a weird look in your eyes—you were admiring him. Whenever you walk, you cling to him, wrapping yourself around his forearm while playfully weighing him down. He stumbles for a second but smiles.

You love leaving hickeys on him, even bite marks if he allows, but the rule is never above the collar of his shirt. You oblige 97% of the time. The other 3%, you sneak in a light hickey that passes off as a mosquito bite, just peeking through the collar of his dress shirt. Sometimes, there's one behind his ear, barely visible. He never knows, but the doctors and patients at the hospital do.

When you're apart, you always call him and go about your day. At night, you video call and try to stay awake, only to snooze off. Zayne chuckles at your attempts to wash the tiredness away, but sometimes, he falls asleep with you. In the morning, both of your phones end up overheating and out of battery.

Zayne loves your company, to others it may seem trouble some but with you, it was adorable. It's through your clingyness that he experiences feelings he never once did before, and those little things always brighten his day. You actions with him makes him feel more loved and he knows he has a hard time expressing them but with you around, it had become more and more easier.

Rafayel:

They say opposites attract, but you and Rafayel are the universal exception.

Rafayel doesn't like it when you're late. Even for a home-date, he fusses about being left alone too long and feeling abandoned. You laugh at his whining over text and enter his door. When he sees you, he jumps off the couch and pouts, "Finally, it took you long enough."

You're like magnets to each other. Wherever one goes, the other follows. If you're cooking ramen in the kitchen, Rafayel sneaks behind you, hugging your back and sniffing your hair. If he's watering flowers in the greenhouse, you sit nearby and watch a ladybug on a leaf. If he's painting, you're reading on a nearby couch. Rafayel's residence is too big for one person but just enough for two.

Rafayel whines when you do something without him, especially if it's something he wants to do. You once took a flower arrangement class without him, and he sulked, "Wow, you didn't even think to tell me? I wanted to do that with you." Even watching movies is hard because you need to pause and wait for him whenever he leaves the room. One time, you finished a mystery series without him, and he ate the tiramisu you were saving for dessert in revenge.

Matching clothes is a thing. He avoids tacky prints but opts for complementary outfits. Because of this, Rafayel buys clothes with you in mind, often choosing items with a feminine counterpart. His shoe closet and yours are practically the same, and you don't complain because Rafayel has good fashion taste.

You love cute matching items. You once bought a two-piece mug set with a heart design, and he took the other one without you knowing. He also took a keychain from your collection, matching the one you have in your wallet.

"Are you tired of me now?" he asks when you keep your distance, avoiding a hug. It's the middle of summer, and the AC is broken. You reek of sweat, and the last thing you want is to be touched. You sigh and pat his back, "After I take a bath, I'll give you all the hugs you want."

He asks about your plans every morning, almost as a ritual. You've gotten used to replying while getting ready. If both schedules permit, he joins you for grocery runs, laundry, or whatever mundane tasks you have. You make good use of him, letting him carry the bags even if you could do it yourself.

When Rafayel is at an exhibit, you bombard him with texts: jokes, articles, or random thoughts. He replies quickly, hiding from the audience, bored out of his mind. In return, he sends you pictures of his artwork, which you threaten to sell online as digital files. He blocks you for a good five minutes.

You're each other's wallpaper. Surprisingly, Rafayel asked to do it. You spent hours finding the perfect pose and recreating trending ones. Rafayel insisted on multiple retakes.

You were rafayel's missing piece. To him, you were the only thing that he has ever wanted in his life. He loved you dearly and a part of him was terrified that you don't reciprocate the same level of love as he does to you; but lo and behold, fate has given him a blessing after all those years of loneliness. His heart swoons at the very sight of your actions. You were clingy, that was factually true but the same goes for him. Nothing makes him more fulfilled than seeing you both think and love in the same wavelength.

Sylus:

His base has become your home. On days off, you often find yourself in one of three rooms: his bedroom, where you lie on his bed, tapping away on your phone or laptop; his kitchen, where the chef cooks whatever you want in exchange for listening to his stories from his little village; or the lobby, where Luke and Kieran update you on the most boring things in the building. Sylus doesn't mind at all; it's less work for Mephisto, and he can keep an eye on you.

Sylus's sleep schedule is the same as that of those in Linkon City. His days begin in the evenings, often leaving you lying in the big bed alone. Sylus is nearby or at his desk if he's not out on the streets. You like hugging his pillow because it smells like his 3-in-1 shampoo. If he's out on late-night trips, you selfishly steal his shirt from the closet, wear it on the pillow, and hug that to sleep, forcing yourself to be satisfied with what you got.

His lap is your chair. It doesn't matter where he's sitting; you always find yourself on him. Sylus sometimes complains about his thighs going numb, but when you leave, he yanks you back, positioning you between his legs, with your butt on the chair instead of his thigh. He goes back to his work as if nothing happened, occasionally sparing you a kiss on the forehead or rubbing his face against yours. If not, you shower his chest and neck with light pecks before snuggling into the crook of his neck.

His biceps are nice to the touch. On dates to the city, while waiting in line, you squeeze his muscles for entertainment, even through his thick leather jacket. He flexes for a minute before relaxing, amused at how easily you entertain yourself.

The boyfriend shirt phenomenon is common. You don't leave the base wearing his clothes, but you certainly walk around the area in them. Whether a turtleneck, a black blouse, or just a plain shirt, you're always wearing his clothes, even in his company.

You're an eccentric one, thats for sure. Sylus never truly got ahold of how you managed to change from being so distant to practically being glued to him. It was like he partnered up with a whole new different person. He wasn't complaining at all if anything, he found it admirable and a part of him was quietly relieved that time did all the adjusting between you and him. Despite being a bit too fussy at times, he'd be more than willing to compromise if that's what makes you happy.

Xavier:

You always steal his hoodies. They're big, soft, and smell like him, so you have two or three at home. Xavier scratches his head when he notices bare hangers in his closet. When you visit, he finally sees what's missing. No matter how many hoodies and jackets he buys for you, you always get your hands on his, almost becoming a problem. Now, he rotates his jackets, giving them to you on schedule.

Xavier's hair is too soft to be human. When he's on your lap, you massage his scalp and fidget with the ends of his silver hair. If you have hair elastics and a cute clip nearby, he ends up with his hair tied up or braided. He needs your help to take it off because it's too painful for him to do alone. Oops?

You prefer sitting beside him rather than across from him at a table. He didn't understand at first because he wanted to face you when eating. But when he's beside you, he slowly gets it. You like touching him one way or another. You enjoy your elbows touching or your thighs grazing each other. It's also convenient to lean slightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

Xavier loves bathing with you. The bathtub in his apartment is big enough for both. He likes the smell of your bath bombs and is sometimes fascinated by the toys or mini jewelry inside. Your back always presses against him, and he willingly holds you. On more stressful days, you light candles and open some cheap wine to enjoy in rose-covered water.

He's riddled with bite marks, even when not having sex. He's dozing off when you suddenly find his arm or leg appetizing. He jolts awake and tries to shake your grip, but it's too tight. When you've had enough, he stares at your work of art and wipes his saliva-coated limb. You grin, watching him wipe your fluids. Because of the frequency, he rarely lets his consciousness drift away when his bare arms and legs are around you.

When bathing alone, you use his shampoo instead of yours. It's surprising he doesn't use all-in-one shampoo and body wash; he uses baby shampoo. When confronted, he shrugs, saying it does the job, and recalls you like playing with his hair. His perfume and powder are also for babies.

In the eyes of Xavier, you were adorable even if your actions were questionable. You were cute, and he never once thought that your actions were a burden or suffocating. The things you do, the way you speak they were all precious in his eyes and Xavier understands that this was you way of showing your love for him. Because of that, he tolerates you every time you bite him.

Your gallery is full of his pictures. Candid photos you secretly take daily. Your favorite is when his cheeks are full of food, resembling a hamster. You take pictures when he's asleep, using you as a pillow. Sometimes, you're both looking at the camera, making random faces.

Author footnotes: I'm sorry if these were pretty general. I'm not the clingy type so I don't know how these type of people act but I wrote it with the things I observed from films and tiktok lol

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Bully Part 3

A/n: Happy new year/ New year's eve everyone! As promised, here is part 3. Thank you all for following and supporting me these last few months. Here's to a great year of smut ahead <3 <3 <3 I hope you enjoy your favorite pervy menaces <3

Disclaimer: Gojo X Geto X Fem!Reader. DUB-CON WARNING. READER ENJOYS WHAT’S HAPPENING TO HER BUT IT’S MESSY!!! Blackmail!!! Humiliation. Degradation. Free-use dynamics. Spankings. Public sex. Filming. Gojo gives a stranger permission to touch reader!!!

"Who knew the three of them were...well...like that." Utahime said, immediately gossiping once the taxi started to move. "I can't say I'm surprised though." Shoko said, "They're practically attached at the hip."

The girls and Nanami were sharing a cab to get back to their dorms, gossiping about what had happened during dinner. It was a fun night of drinks and banter, ended with their friend being kissed by Gojo and Geto. When asked about the nature of their relationship, the two men responded by saying they were…fuck buddies.

"She could do better." Utahime said, "I don't get why she's settling for those assholes."

Nanami looked out the window as he allowed the chatter to wash over him, not really paying attention. His mind couldn't help but go back to a week ago when he and Gojo were in class together, the only ones there and he noticed his lock screen...

"Gojo, what the fuck?" Nanami snarled as he looked at Gojo's phone, his screen flashing up as he received a message. There was a naked woman's photo set up as his lock screen, her face out of frame to accommodate her breasts and her spread legs and Nanami didn't want to even think about what was dripping out of them.

"Oh, my bad." Gojo said casually as he picked up his phone, "But she's hot right? She's my new fuck buddy~"

"Not interested." Nanami said, clicking his tongue in annoyance, "Just keep that shit to yourself. Why do you have that as your phone background?"

Before he got an answer, Geto and you walked into the room, asking them what they were talking about and when Gojo showed them the screen, Nanami noted your reaction. He didn't too much of it at the time, assuming your flustered and angered expression was over how vulgar Gojo was but now he wondered...

No. There's no way that was you, right?

Right?

~~~~~

"What the fuck was that?!" you screeched once Gojo closed the door of the taxi, smacking them both across the shoulders, "Why would you say shit like that?! Telling everyone we're fuck buddies- what will they think of me!?"

"It's the truth, right? Stop your bitching." Geto snarled on your left.

"Exactly. I'd rather you use your mouth for something else." Gojo said on your right, his fingers moving to tug at his pants, starting to undo his belt.

"Wh-What the fuck are you-" you sputtered, your eyes flickering over to the taxi driver who seemed to be paying you no mind but-

"Oh, don't worry about him. He works for my family." Gojo said, pulling his hard cock out of his pants before he tapped on the driver’s seat, "Hey, you don't mind if this whore sucks my cock back here, do you?"

You yelped at Gojo's words, face a bright red as you heard the taxi driver chuckle. "Enjoy yourself, boss." he said, not even looking back as he put up the divider, giving the three of them some privacy.

"There we go. Happy?" Gojo asked as he leaned back against the leather seat, his arm reaching up to grab you by the back of your head. You gasped as he gripped onto a handful of your hair and tugged harshly, his hold on your unrelenting as he started to pull your head down to his lap.

"Get to sucking."

~~~~~

Oh God.

Oh God.

You ran your hands through your hair, eyes wide as you went over what happened last night. You had hoped it was a dream but...it wasn't. You got fingered in the restaurant, got kissed in front of everybody by your bullies before said bullies announced that you were all fuck buddies.

They got you back to one of Gojo's penthouses, (the bastard so rich he had multiple houses he could just use whenever he wanted) and once you reached it, having sucked them both off in the taxi, they cleaned you up the best they could before the three of you passed out on the bed. You fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow, too drunk and loopy to do anything else.

Which is how you found yourself in between them, the two men still sleeping as you contemplated moving country and changing your identity.

To your right, Gojo groaned, his eyes pressing tightly as he fought away the need to wake up, moving from his back to his side and throwing an arm around you. You froze as he pressed himself close to you, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "Fuuuuck..." he cursed, frowning, "My head is killing me..."

"Don't make it our problem." Geto groaned, woken up by his own hangover and Gojo's whining. He looked over at you, taking your appearance in, looking quite delectable in Gojo's oversized t-shirt.

"Mmph- gimme those tits..." Geto said as he fisted the hem of your t-shirt before he pulled it up harshly, bunching it all underneath your chin. You gasped as he immediately leaned forward and took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it a few times before he sealed his lips around it. A groan on content left his throat as he started suckling on you gently, truly using your boobs as stress relief for his hangover, the pressure at which he sucked your nipple increasing and decreasing at a slow pace.

"I-I hate you two." you said even as a hand came up to thread through Geto's hair, watching as he closed his eyes and suckled on you. It was honestly a bit soothing, feeling him suckle on you gently and not maul on your nipple the way they usually did. Gojo grunted as he too moved down your body and took your other breast into his mouth, sloppier than Geto but still suckling on you hard enough to make your toes curl.

"Oh God...people are going to think I’m a whore..." you lamented, tossing your head back and accepting your fate, fingers threading through their hair as they used your body. "It's accurate." Geto teased, giving your nipple a few kitten licks before going back to sucking. "Exactly. And who cares what they think." Gojo said, running his tongue over the plush of your breast, making your whole boob wet with his saliva, "You're our whore and that's all you'll be."

"Whatever." you said, not even having the energy to argue. You simply lied down, almost going back to sleep from the sensation of them gently nursing on you. But within five minutes, Gojo was bored.

"Come on, let's go take a shower." Gojo said, pushing himself up with a groan as he got off the bed, but not before grabbing your wrist. Geto growled as Gojo pulled at you, not appreciating being interrupted as he wrapped his arms around you and glared at his friend even as he continued to suckle.

"Don't look at me like that." Gojo said, sticking out his tongue, "You can take her after I play with her."

'Play with her' meant him taking you to the shower and running his hands all over your body like a pervert, squeezing your flesh and washing every nook and cranny as he ordered you to stay still. Sometimes he'd fuck you- other time's he'd simply jerk off and cum on you- always something new with Gojo.

Geto growled, making you shiver at the sensation around your sensitive bud before he pulled away with a pop, a hickey already forming on the fat of your breast.

"Let's all shower together." he said, sitting up as well, "We have a mission today and the principal will kill us if we're late."

Oh right. You were assigned a mission with these two menaces. And if it wasn't tough enough dealing with them before they started fucking you, you can only imagine the shit you're going to have to put up with now. You sighed as the two men grabbed you and lifted you off of the bed, taking the t-shirt off of you and smacking your ass before pushing you towards the bathroom for a very...thorough bath.

~~~~~

"What's with the face?" Geto asked, tapping his finger on his arm as he waited for Gojo to finish getting dressed, "Doesn't it fit?"

"This- I can't wear this! It’s too short!" you protested, tugging at the skirt...if you could even call it that. You were wearing the school uniform but instead of your usual pants, the boys had demanded you wear something else. A mini skirt. The skirt only reached your thighs, even the slightest movements threatening to flash your whole ass.

"Might as well give the curses something to ogle at before they die." Geto teased, looking you up and down, nodding his head in satisfaction.

"Fuck you! I'm not wearing this!" you said, pressing your legs together as you reached for your discarded pants. But before you could even touch the fabric, you felt a sharp pain on your behind, a slap so loud and hard that it made you yelp, the force pushing you face first onto the bed. You whipped your head around, face hot as Geto stood above you, pushing up the skirt a bit to marvel at the red handprint he left behind.

"You don't have to wear it if you don't want to." he said as he pulled his phone out, pointing the camera at you and you couldn't stop him from taking a picture, "But it would be a shame if I accidentally sent this to the schools group chat~"

"...I'll wear it."

"Smart girl." Geto said with a laugh, the sound making your ears heat up in embarrassment. It made you shiver, thinking about all the material they had on you. Pictures, videos, text messages... they continued to torment you and it didn't seem like they'd get bored anytime soon.

And neither would you.

"Get on your knees and keep your face down." Geto ordered, still pointing his phone at you while he used the other hand to push the skirt up entirely, bunching it at your waist and exposing your panties, "Shake your hips. Grind that ass on me."

You gasped as you felt him move forward and press his crotch against your ass, his hardening cock obvious even through the fabric. He started to gently dry hump you, a somewhat bored expression on his face, like it was a chore to use your body to get off. He landed another sharp spank on your butt, reminding you that he was waiting for you to follow orders.

You bit your lower lip, fisting the bed-sheet tightly as you did as he asked, wiggling your hips and shaking your butt against Geto, gasping as you felt him grow harder against you. As you continued to shake, the door opened and Gojo walked in, dressed in his uniform as well.

He whistled as he watched the two of you, noting the redness of your ass cheeks. "Was she being naughty?" he asked, taking Geto's phone from him and continuing to film, giving his friend free reign to humiliate you easier.  "She tried to be." Geto said, reeling his hand back and spanking a cheek one more time before he grabbed your hips tightly, "But you know how she is. It's easy to put her in her place."

You yelped as Geto started to thrust against you, pushing his clothed erection against your clothed cunt as he dry humped you, the flesh of your butt rippling against him as he fake fucked you. Somehow, this felt more embarrassing than if he actually stuffed his cock inside you- it was like he couldn't be bothered to put in the effort but still wanted some pleasure.

He humped you a few times before he called it, pushing your hips away from him and making you collapse on the bed, your knees giving out as you panted against the bedsheet, face red hot with shame. You barely processed Gojo coming behind you, sliding his hand up your waist before he whisked your panties off, tugging them off of your legs before throwing them to the side. You were about to spread your legs, assuming the man was either going to eat you out or fuck you but he simply gave your butt a pat before saying:

"Get up. We gotta go."

"Wh-huh?" you babbled, watching as Gojo grabbed your skirt and pulled it down over your butt, the fabric barely covering you. You pushed yourself off of the bed and stood up, ears flushed as you once again were made aware of just how short the miniskirt was. All it took was for one small movement for anyone to see your privates. "Th-then why did you-"

"You thought being spanked was your punishment?" Gojo asked, a smirk on his face as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, "Nah. You don't get to wear panties."

"No- You can't!" you protested, pressing your hand between your legs, trying to pretend like your cunt wasn't gushing.

"Principal is asking if we've left yet." Geto said, interrupting the conversation, "I could send him a picture of you over Gojo's knee, getting your ass spanked and explain exactly why we're running late. Shall we do that?"

"...Let's go."

Gojo’s driver from last night was picking the three of you up and to your horror but not surprise, Gojo ordered you to sit in the passenger’s seat. You could feel the driver’s eyes on you as you tried to get into the car without flashing him, all decency thrown out the window as you practically covered your bare pussy with your hand as you sat down beside the stranger.

"Did you see her pussy?" Gojo asked once he settled down in the back, Geto beside him.

"I'm afraid not, Sir. She was covering herself." The driver confessed, quite expressionless.

"How rude. Hey," Gojo said, getting your attention as he tugged at your ear, "Spread your legs. Let him see your cunt."

You jumped, your ears ringing at his command, jaw dropping to the floor at the shameful demand. You pussy was already wet- "I- that's- I can't do that!"

"Either you spread your legs or I rip that skirt off and toss you out of the car. Your choice."

With a gulp, you took a deep, shaky breath, your heart hammering in your ears before you slowly started spreading your legs. You heard the driver’s breath hitch as your skirt bunched up, completely exposing your puffy pussy to him. He even leaned forward a bit to get a good look at you, making you close your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see it.

You pressed your mouth close tightly so they wouldn't hear you moan.

"What do you think? Good pussy, right?" you heard Gojo ask, the other two men also leaning forward to look at you like they weren't more than familiar with your body.

"She's beautiful," the driver responded, "so puffy and cute~"

"Why don't you touch her a bit?"

You gasped, back arching off the seat as you immediately felt a hand on your pussy. Your eyes snapped open, watching as the driver had indeed slid his hand between your legs and was touching you. A total stranger was rubbing your cunt!

"She's so wet~" the man teased, a smile on his face as his fingers glided between your folds, the slick sound of your wetness echoing through the car, "Oh, she feels amazing."

"Doesn't she? She's a perfect little fuck toy~" Gojo said, biting his lower lip as he watched you get touched by the driver, a twinge of possessiveness popping up as he eventually ordered him to stop. The man immediately listened, pulling his hand away from your pussy before licking his fingers off your juices, the action making you moan in embarrassment.

"You know where to take us, right?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Get to it. And you," Gojo said, kicking your seat and getting your attention, "Keep your legs spread, got it? Give him something to look at while he drives."

After the long and awkward car ride where you kept your legs spread the whole time, the three of you were dropped off at your location (but not before the driver got to cop another feel). It was an abandoned location, decrepit and having a strong vibe of curses. The cursed energy was so strong it made your skin crawl and your teeth chatter. But you knew you had nothing to worry about. Not only were you strong, but you also had the two idiots with you who were labelled the strongest sorcerers.

It was strange that the curses were not the things that were making you nervous. You tried not to think about how you were used as a toy. As a plaything. As something they can give other people permission to use as they pleased. You couldn’t believe that just seconds ago- a random stranger had their hands on your most private part.

You tried not to think about how much you loved it. "Lead the way." Geto said, giving your butt a pat before you started walking. You didn't need to look behind you to know that they were taking pictures of you, Gojo one time practically putting the camera between your legs and taking an upward shot.

"Stop- I'm trying to focus!" you complained, pulling down the skirt as best as you could which you knew barely did anything.

"You'll only focus once you stop worrying about your outfit. It's just us here, after all." Geto said, "So flash that pussy and find the curse."

"I don't see you two doing any work." you said, cheeks red as you glared at them, "Find the curses, why don't you."

"Nah." Gojo said, idly scrolling through his phone, his glasses reflecting the photos he just took of you.

"The fuck you mean, nah?"

"It's your job to find and defeat the curses today." Geto explained, giving you a sly smile, "Do a good job and we might put in a good word with Yaga. Our recommendation means something, you know."

"...you guys are never that nice." you said, smelling a scheme, "what do you want?"

"We don't want anything." Gojo said, "And as long as you do as you're told, of course. Now push that skirt up and show me your ass."

You huffed, quickly realizing what this mission was going to be.

But hey, if you get a promotion through this...then perhaps you can stick it out.

You gripped your skirt and pulled it up, not having to do much as your peach butt got exposed. The two men laughed and whistled, getting enjoyment and more blackmail material: many pictures of you, in uniform, at a location of curses, flashing your butt. And this was only the beginning.

As you started tracking down the curse, your senses were on high alert and you gradually forgot about the skirt, the shiver you felt as you got in contact with the thick cursed energy making you decide that you needed to focus on the task as hand. You blocked out the two of them following behind you and you blocked out the sensation of your skirt riding up enough for your lower half to be almost bare. When you sprinted up the stairs, feeling a curse nearby, your skirt rode up completely and you only pulled it down once you reached the top.

In front of you was a curse, not a special grade but not weak either. It was a large, disgusting looking thing, oozing power but you knew it was not as strong as you.

"I'm guessing the two of you aren't going to help?" you asked, getting ready as the curse spotted you. "Nope." they responded, Gojo's phone out and pointing at you, taking a video, "all yours."

You didn't have time to respond as the curse suddenly lunged at you, dragging its disgusting body with surprising speed as it gained to attack. You sprinted around it, your body swift and deadly, understanding the way the curse worked in a matter of seconds. You countered every move with your own, slowly weakening it before you exorcised it, the curse dissipating in the wind.

"That was pretty decent, even for you." Geto said once Gojo stopped recording, "you didn't even let the fact that your whole pussy is out stop you from doing the job. Well done."

You looked down and sure enough, from all the running and the dodging and the fighting, your skirt had ridden up once more and your cunt was totally out in the open. You blushed and you quickly pulled the skirt back down, your ears turning red from the embarrassment.

"Fuck. I'm horny now." Gojo muttered as he pocketed his phone, "Hey, hands on the wall- I'm gonna fuck you."

"Wh-" you sputtered, blushing heavily, "But we're busy!"

"Geto can deal with it. My balls come first. Pun intended."

The black haired man rolled his eyes, a fond smile on his face as he said: "Fine. But I'm fucking her once I’m back so you better finish by then."

"No promises~"

Not caring about your response, Gojo walked upto you, gripping you by the back of your neck before he pushed you gently against the nearest wall, his other hand pulling your skirt up. Geto walked past the two of you, following the curse as he left you behind to get a pounding.

"Oh, you're so wet, you nasty bitch." Gojo snarked, grinning as he felt you up, his fingers sliding between your folds, "You loved walking around in this slutty little mini skirt, huh? Yeah, I know you loved it. Probably wanted us to fuck you this whole time."

"D-Don't flatter yourself!" you retorted, wincing as he pinched the plush of your butt before he changed your position a bit. "Mhmm. You're real fucking convincing. Now spread your legs. I want to fuck this nasty pussy."

 Grabbing you by the hips, he made you bend forward, your palms against the wall and your ass presented to him. He continued to play with your pussy, two fingers easily sliding inside of you while his other hand got to work on his pants. He simply slid them down enough for his cock to pop out, hard, throbbing and leaking pre-cum from the red tip. He tapped it against your ass, staining your skin with his fluid before he took his finger out and pressed the tip against your cunt.

He didn't care for foreplay and he didn't care if you felt good. He was here to fuck and that's what he was going to do. And you were going to take it.

"Oh yeah, that's a good pussy~" he groaned as he started pushing inside of you, his cockhead popping into you easily from how wet and dripping you were. You hated to admit it but running and around and flashing your privates had gotten you hot and bothered, even if you were just exposing yourself to the two men who were more than familiar with your body.

You gasped as he continued to bully his cock inside you, eventually bottoming out and spreading your cunt so deliciously wide. His groans were audible through the empty hallways, both his hands now grasping your hips greedily. With a lick of his lips and no warning, the man started to thrust, starting off a bit slow. Your moans jumped with each thrust, your ass rippling against his hips each time he fucked his cock deep, deep inside you.

Despite the many times you've gotten thoroughly pounded by Gojo, you simply can't seem to get used to his size. His cock was deliciously long and thick and each thrust in had his leaking cockhead pressed up against your womb. You slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises on instinct, slick dripping down your legs and staining the floor.

"Fuuuuck- I'm addicted to this free use pussy!" Gojo growled as he not so gently smacked your ass, laughing at your squeal, "Bend you over and fuck you anytime- claim you as my personal whore. I fucking love it!"

“Shut the fuck u-u-upppp!” you squealed, his cock curving just right and bumping against your special spot, a rush of pleasure sparking through your spine. Gojo simply spanked you again before he used that hand to grab your hair, pulling at it roughly. You gasped as your head was pulled back, the pain of your hair being tugged at addicting.

“I felt your pussy tighten, bitch~” Gojo snarled with a smirk, “You love being bullied by us so much- it’s so pathetic and I love it.”

“You’re pathe- ohhh right there- right there!”

“Yeah? Here? Little bitch likes it when my cocks hits her right here?”

Gojo angled his hips so he hit your g-spot with every thrust forward, the clap of his hips against your butt practically echoing through the hallway. You couldn’t hold back your moans, little ‘uh-uh-uh’s leaving you as he pounded your cunt like a toy. You didn’t know how long the two of you were there for, fucking in the open, in the middle of the abandoned building. You were so focused on the pleasure that you didn’t notice the pressure of the curses suddenly disappear.

“Are you done yet? It’s my turn to cream her cunt.”

You groaned as Geto walked over to the two of you, wiping his mouth.

“I still got the taste of a curse on my tongue. I’d like to wash it down with her pussy.”

“Fuck- wait for a bit.” Gojo said, panting heavily, sweat marring his brow, “I’m almost done.”

“Nope. I’m not waiting.” Geto said, punching Gojo in the shoulder and ruining his rhythm, “Plus, there’s another curse that needs killing and I’m pretty sure it’s your turn.”

“You want- fuck-“ Gojo cursed, stilling inside you to give Geto a look, “You want me to fight a curse with a hardon?”

“Well, she fought one with her pussy out so I’m sure you can manage.”

Gojo sighed, rolling his eyes before he conceded, “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.”

“I do not. Now get going.”   Gojo pulled out of you, the slick sound of it making your body shiver as his erect cock stood tall, covered in your juices. He tucked himself back in his pants the best he could, his dick still straining against his pants as he quickly walked away, a determined look in his eyes. He wanted to finish off this final curse as soon as he could so he could get back to destroying your pussy.

Before you could even blink, a bit dazed from the lack of pleasure, Geto was on his knees behind you, his hands gripping your asscheeks before he pulled them apart and surged forward. Blood rushed upto your cheeks so fast you felt dizzy as Geto stuffed his face between your cheeks. He groaned as he rubbed his face on you for a bit, enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh against him like a pervert before he stuck his tongue out and got to licking. He took a long, greedy lick from your clit all the way upto your asshole, teasing your rim before slightly sticking his tongue inside.

Your body shivered, little gasps leaving your mouth at his shameless actions, the man starting to eat you out like a messy meal. He clearly didn't care if you felt good, his movements sloppier than usual, and obviously just wanted a taste. But that didn't stop your body from responding to him, your hips subconsciously pushing out in a silent plea for more, your pussy dripping. He lapped up your juices, drinking you down with a groan as his hands continued to squeeze and pinch at your cheeks.

“Fucking- perfect.” He moaned against you, his words vibrating your clit and making your knees shake, “Just what I needed.”

With a final, toe-curling suck to your clit, he stood up, ordering you to turn around and face him as he started undoing his pants. Your back was pressed against the wall, Geto standing close enough for your chests to almost touch. “Take your top off. Get naked for me.” He groaned as he fished his dick out, giving it a few tugs as he eyed you down like you were a piece of meat. You gulped, heart beating fast in your chest as you hurriedly started to unbutton your blouse, trying to pretend like you weren’t eager.

If they knew just how needy you felt…

Geto suddenly grabbed you by the waist once your buttons were undone before he lifted you up like you weighed nothing. You yelped as he slammed you tightly against the wall, feeling his cock throb against your eager cunt as your legs wrapped around his waist. He grabbed onto the cup of your bra before pulling the right one down, exposing that nipple. He bent down and took it into his mouth, the man clearly having an obsession with your tits as he started suckling.

His eyelashes tickled your skin as he ran his tongue over your sensitive bud, giving it a few flicks with the tip before sealing his lips around it and giving it a toe-curling suck. As he suckled, his other hand slid down and grabbed his cock, tapping it a few times against your pussy before he slid in, the glide easy thanks to Gojo’s previous pounding.

“Ah- fuck-yes-“ you gasped out, unable to hold yourself back, briefly registering that all traces of curses had disappeared in an instant, Gojo having finished the job. It was only a matter of time before he rushes to the two of you, demanding to be back inside you.

This was what you were expected to do for them. Be a pair of spread legs for them to use whenever they want- to be fucked silly- to be bred- to be truly and utterly degraded. Maybe Gojo would make you suck his cock. Maybe the two of them would swap places. Or maybe they’d finally fuck your ass.

From the corner of your eye, your vision blurry thanks to the tears from how harshly Geto was pounding into you, you could see someone hurriedly walk towards you, unbuttoning his pants along the way and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh among your moans.

Today was going to be a long day.

~~~~~

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together. 

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made. 

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now. 

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him. 

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance. 

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you. 

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction. 

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard. 

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.” 

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene. 

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt. 

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow. 

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear. 

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either. 

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say. 

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed. 

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease. 

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again. 

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible. 

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve. 

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again. 

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe. 

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then? 

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further. 

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips. 

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses. 

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,”  you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like. 

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.” 

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood. 

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired. 

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills. 

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read. 

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?” 

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says. 

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match. 

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it. 

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball. 

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by. 

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion. 

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you. 

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus. 

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder. 

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM. 

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds. 

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words. 

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised. 

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy. 

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again. 

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.” 

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.” 

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away. 

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you. 

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still. 

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.” 

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you. 

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes. 

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes. 

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.” 

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift. 

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.” 

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly. 

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?” 

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.” 

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head. 

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code. 

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again. 

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t. 

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand. 

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it. 

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over. 

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod. 

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts. 

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three. 

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly. 

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively. 

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar. 

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

[chaoticace2005]

Reasons the Mothman should die, collectively written by the residents of the Hazbin Hotel:

Coding for Characters: Vaggie, Charlie, Pentious, Alastor, Niffty, Husk, pretty much everyone

TW: References to abuse

He’s holding back Angel’s progress. (Vaggie, is killing really necessary?) (I am concerned about going after a Vee)

I’m hungry (ALASTOR!)

Ms. Angel gets nervous when on the phone with him.

His coat is tacky.

He’s a bug! And bugs must be DESTROYED!

So Angel stops feeling like he has to be so damn fake. This is getting on my fucking nerves.

HE LICKED CHARLIE!!! (Vaggie, wait it’s okay.)

Color scheme sucks. Purple AND red?!

He makes Angel sad, NOBODY should make Angel sad.

Those obnoxious glasses just make him look stupid.

He’s a manipulative, abusive prick.

ANGEL DIDN'T KNOW BOUNDARIES WERE A THING?!?!?!?!?!? (Honestly that explains a lot.)

NOBODY deserves to be in an abusive relationship.

Too many arms. Nobody needs that many. (...Angel has that many?) (Well maybe he shouldn't.)

Ms. Angel keeps coming home all messy!!

He’s ruining hearts for everyone. Me and Angel already have enough. At least those are on our bodies, what’s his excuse?

Hearts should not even be ASSOCIATED with Valentino, THIS IS NOT LOVE.

I can do without all the sexual depravity. While I am in Hell this is NOT one of the reasons.

If I have to hear that ringtone one more damn time-

The Eggies found some of his films. They should never be exposed to such horrors. Now I have to explain what “a sex” is.

Makes picture shows that are a disgrace to the idea of “entertainment.”

He’s making a bad name for Uncle Ozzie. This is NOT “lust.”

So we don’t have to listen to another one of Angel’s pornos. (Agreed, it’s quite horrifying!!)

So Ms. Angel isn’t tired when she gets home and can save the kinky stuff for then :) (Niff, really?)

So the kid stops coming home with bruises and cuts that I fix up at 3 am. (Husk, what the fuck?)

Because what the FUCK Valentino?

He keeps forcing Angel to do drugs. (HE WHAT?! Like crack??) (That but also I’m pretty sure whatever comes out of him is an aphrodisiac.)

I want to use his antenna as a backscratcher

Has that whole red color thing going on. Only I am allowed to wear red :) (Al, your text isn’t even red.) (My what?)

What is up with his red spit and smoke? Seriously disgusting.

The red stuff from him may be what allows Velvette to create her “Love Potions” which funds Vax’s stupid endeavors (Do you mean Vox?) (Who?)

FOR MY COLLECTION :D (…yeah okay.)

Really is making a bad name for Overlords. And not in the fun way.

Angel’s shown trauma signs of abuse in our meetings. Im pretty sure it’s Valentino.

Make a doll out of his fur so I have a main villain for roach puppet shows!!!

His only purpose is to keep Veks occupied but considering Vixen’s inane attempts to catch my attention it isn’t working.

So Angel can have his soul and he and Husk can run off into the sunset together like in a fanfiction!!! (Ah, yes that would be nice.) (WE WHAT?!) (Oh Husker, denial doesn’t suit you.)

So Angel can get a good boyfriend THAT’S NOT ME to stop these bullshit allegations.

So Angel can admit his feelings to Husker because our cat surely isn’t going to be the first to do it. (ALASTOR I SWEAR TO GOD!)

Who knows how many other people he’s abusing.

Seems to give Vicks confidence. He has enough of that as is. It much more fun to destroy him.

He makes Angel sad which makes Cherri sad!

HE HIT ANGEL!!!

Called my dear Rosie an "old hag" NOBODY CALLS ROSIE AN OLD HAG.

Angel is a good friend and deserves so much better.

I’ve forgotten what moths taste like.

He keeps trying to get Angel to move out :(

Told the kid he had to lose weight. What the actual FUCK. (Ill kill him.)

He’s annoying and looks quite stupid. How has this not been added yet?!

He’s making a bad name for Spanish speakers everywhere. (Yeah it’s embarrassing.) (Wait… what?)

He’s making a bad name for pansexuals everywhere.

He’s making a bad name for wing-holders everywhere. (HE HAS FUCKING WINGS?!) (Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you?)

Too tall. This is ridiculous.

Won’t admit he’s blind so he’s become even more of a public safety hazard.

If I get one more transmission of him and Box commiting lascivious acts someone will be eaten. I don’t care who. What the purpose of these are I don’t know. Advertisement? (I think it’s to make you jealous boss.) (Ha! Jealous of what? Mediocre sex with a pathetic excuse for a businessman with a TV as a head?)

Because Angel deserves fucking better.

[haeryna]

first time that i called you mine (that wasted summer) ↪ gojo satoru x reader x geto suguru ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☀︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ

← previous | ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ | next →

summary: suguru figures out he loves you the summer when you're both fifteen. satoru calls you his a few months after. when you finally realize it, there's nothing left to call yours. ↪ a continuation of this drabble

tw: angst, referenced abandonment, homophobia, implied mild sexual content, reader calls satoru a manwhore (affectionate), swearing, the author loves parentheses a concerningly large amount, not proofread teehee

notes: title taken from loote's wasted summer. reader is a teenager, along with satoru, suguru, and shoko. banner from @/cafekitsune

Suguru is only six years old when he falls in love with you.

At first, it was entirely childish. When he saw you for the first time, tears streaming down your cheeks by the creek he'd explore with Satoru, he liked feeling needed. He liked how you'd clung to him so desperately, and selfishly, he liked having something he didn't share with Satoru.

(He should have known that whatever was Suguru's inevitably also became Satoru's)

He knew he loved you when you were eight, bravely defending Satoru from a group of bratty kids who were calling him slurs before Satoru had even knew what love was. He knew he loved you when you were twelve and crying for him when Suguru got into his first fist fight, sniffling as you patched up the bloody scrapes after.

But this was different.

"Sugu, sit still!" you hissed, as he squirmed uncomfortably on the lumpy sofa that resided in his basement. You were fifteen, and tired of Suguru complaining about how the nearest piercer was a two hour drive away. In one hand you brandished a piercing gun; in your other, the piercings that were meant to go into his earlobes. Besides you, Satoru gleefully filmed Suguru's discomfort.

"Are you sure that's sanitary? Why are we doing this because you're bored, can't you experiment on Satoru first?" Suguru shot back, leaning away from the piercing gun.

"You're such a big baby, you've been complaining about your empty earlobes for months now. You literally came with me to buy the piercing gun, which cost me my whole allowance by the way, so sit still. And it's summer break, so if you're going to do something dramatic to your appearance, you have to do it now." Before he could stop you, you determinedly swung your leg up and over, lightly straddling his lap.

Suguru realized several critical things as he registered your weight sinking into him.

You smelled like the meadows you'd roamed as kids, mixed with the smell of cigarette smoke (Shoko had convinced him to take up smoking with her) and burnt sugar (Satoru's failed attempt at some monstrosity that still sat smoking in Suguru's kitchen). You smelled like them, he realized. Like a mix of the people who loved you.

You were pretty. He'd always known that, but now, with the heat of your body pressed against his, he didn't realize how somewhere along the way you'd grown into your gangly limbs and the clothes you complained were a few sizes too large.

These two realizations were combined with the fact that he was a boy, a teenaged boy, and you were so close that his heart was going to burst. You smelled like flowers, smoke, and sugar, you smelled like him, like you could be his, and if you moved an inch lower you would know that the Suguru you always came to for comfort was just another boy, and he couldn't bear it. He would rather die than lose you, he would do anything just to have you, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted-

"Yay, all done!" Effortlessly you slid right off his lap as fast as you'd hopped on it, and it was then he realized his earlobes were stinging. In the time he'd spent dazedly staring at you, you'd pierced his ears.

Satoru snickered, still holding his phone obnoxiously close to Suguru's face. "He looks like he's in shock. Hey, if I get a piercing, would you straddle me like that too? You'll make me jealous, you know."

As the two of you bickered in the background, Suguru couldn't help but swallow shakily, lightly pressing his fingertips to the round black earrings you'd picked out for him.

"I love it," he says quietly. "Thank you."

(I love you, is what he meant to say, but you didn't understand because you merely shot him a smug smile before berating Satoru for being a "manwhore, Satoru, I'm not like your groupies at school, go get one of them to pierce your ears for you if you want one so bad!")

Suguru has always known he's loved you, but that summer, he knew he loved you.

Where Suguru goes, Satoru follows. It's only inevitable that he'd realize he was in love with you too. Despite his easygoing nature and flirtatious charms, there's a critical difference between Suguru and Satoru. Satoru gets possessive, a dangerous combination of the spoiled upbringing and how guarded his heart is.

"Who is that?"

Satoru blatantly stares at the boy leaning against your locker. Pettily, he thinks that he's definitely shorter than Satoru, and uglier too. It doesn't seem to matter though, because you're laughing at whatever the he said. As you turn to reach for your books, the hungry look in the boy's eyes make Satoru's fists clench.

"Kenji?" Shoko looks amused when she sees the look in Satoru's eyes. "Isn't he in our English class? He's got a massive crush on her, apparently it's all he talks to his friends about."

Satoru grits his teeth. "Oh, does he?"

He can't quite explain the burning, insidious feeling that forms in his chest. What could've possibly been so funny to make you laugh like that? The smiles you're giving him, why didn't you give those to Satoru too?

The boy, Kenji, reaches over to your face, looking as though he's going to tuck a loose strand of hair around your ear. Something inside of Satoru snaps. He stalks over, ignoring Shoko's snicker, calling your name loudly and abruptly.

"There you are!"

You turn, surprised, as Kenji's hand drops away, his lovesick smile turning into something that looks something similar to fear. "'Toru, where were you? Suguru said he needed to stay in during lunch for a club, but I couldn't find you when I waited outside your classroom."

Satoru's heart lurches traitorously inside his chest, and before he can stop himself, he latches onto your wrist, tugging you towards him. "Don't scare me like that," he murmurs, cradling you firmly in his arms. "Shoko and I couldn't find you, it made me worried."

You peer up at him, clueless to the long forgotten boy fuming behind you. "Ah, I'm sorry, I forgot I left my lunch in my locker." Something in Satoru's chest yearns. Is it because you're so used to his physical affection, his touch, his love, that you don't give him the same starry eyed look as the boy who's still awkwardly waiting by your locker? How can he get you to look like that? How could he make you love him too?

The realization doesn't strike him like he expects, but it feels a bit like finally finding the choreography that fit with the song, the way that he would find a lyric for a song Suguru was attempting to write. It felt like coming home, and reclaiming what was once lost.

Satoru loved you. He has always loved you.

"Let's go," he says, signature smile back on his face, any trace of vulnerability long gone. As he intertwines his fingers with yours, he turns back to see the resigned, frustrated look on Kenji's face.

Just to be an asshole, he tucks your hair behind your ear as you walk away.

You're sixteen when Suguru and Satoru get together. They don't tell you anything. They don't have to. You can see it in the way that Suguru cradles Satoru's face when he falls asleep, affection settling warm in his dark brown eyes. You can see it in the way that Satoru somehow always needs something from Suguru at the precise moment that a girl tries to ask him out. It's in the dark purple marks you can see peaking out from Suguru's collarbone when his shirt slips down an inch, in the way that when Satoru stretches, you can see angry red scratches down his back.

You're sixteen when Satoru's parents find out, shattering the life that you once had. You're sixteen, sitting in Suguru's basement, sobbing as his parents tell you that he's gone. Shoko is saying something to you, but everything feels muffled and hazy, as you let out a choked wail. You know he's gone. The guitar you gave him only a couple months ago, the binder full of music he's composed, even Satoru's clothes that he'd keep in the dresser next to his bed. Every trace of them is gone. You feel as though they took your heart with you.

You're sixteen when Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru leave you, and it's in that moment that you realize you loved them a little too late.

[sturnioz]

Matt would be the type to help his gf get ready to go somewhere 🤧💜 He'd (try to) style her hair and give kisses telling her how pretty she isss

waittttt i have something similar-ish written in the drafts for a next drabble. i'll post it under the cut here instead

you're sitting in front of your mirror on the floor, applying your most favourite shade of eyeshadow to your lids and mouthing the lyrics to a song that plays from your phone in the background, while matt clings to your back from behind — his arms wrapped around your middle and legs on either side of yours with his cheek resting on your shoulder.

his steady breathing confirms that he's asleep, and the hands that are splayed across your stomach that twitch every so often prove that he was dreaming. you didn't mind the stuffy position you were caught in, you found comfort in his embrace, you felt at ease.

although, you did find it difficult to do your hair, so you decided to leave it until the last second, not daring to move too much as you were afraid you'd wake up matt.

you knew he hasn't been sleeping well — being too busy filming youtube videos and travelling to places to get the best content possible. he was, undoubtedly, a people pleaser. and as much as you loved that about him.... you also hated it. it constantly caused disagreements between you both when you demand that he needs to put himself first.

but similar to you, matt is stubborn. he doesn't listen. he thinks he can carry the entire world on his shoulders. but then he crumbles and you're there with that 'i told you so' look on your face — but your arms are still open wide, waiting for him.

finishing your eyes off with a quick coat of mascara, you lean your body forward to get closer to the mirror with the lip liner in your hand, creating too much of a movement that the arms around your waist begin to tighten.

"don't move..." matt whispers tiredly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder as he tries to tug you back into him.

"i'm trying to do my lips," you tell him while doing do, trying your hardest not to laugh and mess up anything up as matt awkwardly shuffles to get closer again. your eyes meet his through the reflection. "did i wake you up?"

"m'yeah — mhm." matt mumbles with a nod, unlocking his hands from around your middle to dip beneath the shirt of his that you're wearing, the pads of his fingers pressing against your warm skin. he caresses your stomach gently as he watches you apply the lipstick next, a tired smile falling on his face at the way you pucker your lips.

he almost asks for a kiss.

seeming as he's now wide awake, you take this opportunity to fix you hair, some hitting matt across the face as you move your head around but he blows it away carelessly before offering to do it himself.

his hands slip away from beneath the shirt to grab what was needed while you ramble on about something passionately which results in you moving your head a little too much for matt, and he tugs your hair in warning, sending a small glare through the mirrors reflection before resuming.

matt does what he's seen you do a million times before — copying your routine with precise before he manhandles you around to have you sit facing him on his lap. you remain unfazed by his actions, allowing him to do as he pleases, and he holds your face in his hands as he carefully checks over your hair for anything out of place, but he smiles widely when he spots none.

"looks good?" you ask him.

"mhm — you look pretty, baby." matt compliments you, and he leans forward for a kiss but you yell about your lipstick and not wanting him to smudge it, and you throw your head back as you threaten him, but matt refuses you listen as he grabs your face and yanks you towards him, grinning as he captures you lips in a tender kiss.

[skrrts]

concert seats (drabble)

✧ gn!reader & jongho ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, dating, fluff ✧ word count: 720

Jongho refuses to leave the concert with you just because some idiots removed your seat number & didn't check before.

“I don’t care what you’re saying. We bought the tickets legally, there’s even a wristband with the seat number. We are going to watch this together! I’m not going to kick out my partner to attend this concert alone!”

While Jongho’s voice wasn’t loud, it was obvious he was firm. To prove it, he held your hand even tighter, throwing death glares at the staff who were trying to convince him to leave you behind after the organizers messed up big-time.

A few weeks ago, when he surprised you with tickets for your birthday, you couldn’t have been happier. For years, Jongho had to listen to your sighs and whines about how you really wanted to see your favorite artist perform live but the tickets were always insanely priced. So, behind your back, he took an extra job and slowly worked towards it until he had the money to afford them. Perfectly timed, the new tour was announced just the day prior.

You spent hours getting ready and couldn’t stop talking about it, especially how much you loved Jongho. Not only because he got those tickets for you, working so hard, but also because he came along to something that wasn’t his own interest.

When you arrived at your row, it was quick to note that something wasn’t right. The staff explained that there had been another event the other day and somehow, your seat was removed. Now, the staff told you that there was no way for you to attend, something about security reasons, but your boyfriend wasn’t taking it.

“I will have to call security if you refuse, I’m afraid,” the woman tried to sound tough, but she wasn’t doing a good job. Maybe because Jongho had the presence of a mafia boss (it was a popular joke among you and your friends because he really could be that scary if he wanted to).

He pointed to his seat: “Mine is the last in the row, behind me is a pillar, no person. It’s simple. I pull Y/N on my lap and we watch it all quietly. Nobody’s sight is interrupted and we do not have to carry this onto TikTok.” She shook her head: "Not an option."

Jongho didn’t even have an account and you had to hold back a soft chuckle as he took out his phone and started to film. “Hi guys, we are currently inside the Starshower Stadium and…”

There was a hint of panic in her features. TikTok’s hate wave was the nightmare of about every organizer and she hurried to wave her hands. “Please, no recording! Ah, okay! Please, it has to remain between the three of us because by law, I am not allowed to leave you here without a seat.”

There was no reason to, since you were at the end of the row and there wasn’t even a staircase nearby. “Please remain on the chair and enjoy the concert,” she bowed and rushed off, cursing under her breath as she did so.

“TikTok huh, I’d love to see that. I actually still think we could make millions of money with your apple crusher technique,” you laughed and he just offered you that small grin you enjoyed so much.

“I will think about it,” Jongho took your hand and pulled you over to the chair, and onto his lap. He made sure you were sitting comfortably before curling his strong arms around you to ensure you wouldn’t have to worry about falling off.

“Please remember, your very handsome and mysterious boyfriend is sitting right behind you, should you have a sudden urge to dance, with your arms” Jongho coughed.

“Don’t worry, as much as I am looking forward to seeing her live, I promise nothing would ever put my amazing, scary boyfriend at risk,” you winked.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other before he made pouty lips, indicating he wanted a kiss. It was silly and sweet; you had gotten used to loving it whenever he was doing it once Jongho was confident nobody was looking.

“Now then, let’s see if I turn into a stan too,” he mumbled as the crowd cheered and the artist stepped on stage.

You relaxed back against him, thinking this was much better than any place in the front row.

[bringbacktim]

Anal? No one's doing anal

I'm having a Jschlatt brainrot rn so expect more imagines than anyone wants , feel free to request anything

Synopsis: schlatt and y/n are putting together a desk , but it sounds inappropriate to Charlie outside the room , he gets worried like any friend would

Warnings:mentions of anal , hurt , sexual intercourse, innuendos, a whole lot of whacky stuff , not proofread or edited

Word count: 806 words

The only things that charlie could hear from the outside of the OTK office/filming room were things that would definitely give him nightmares and make him avoid Schlatt and Y/n for the foreseeable future

Who said I can't put this fucking thing in that hole " schlatt said practically shouting out of anger

"Me ! , for the hundredth time it shouldn't go there no matter how much you ask" his girlfriend answered

"Tell me that doesn't look like it'll fit in there"

"I am not turning around , I know I'm right . Now hurry up before Charlie or Ted get back"

Charlie was torn between making some loud noise and hoping they'd stop whatever they sound like they're doing or running away and never speaking to them again

He did neither out of pure terror and instead pulled out his phone to text Ted to see if this was some skit or some prank they were playing or whether they were actually doing that in the studio where they filmed

'Hey dude, do you know what Y/n and Shclatt are doing in the studio?' He texted simply not bothering to beat around the bush

'Anal by the sounds of it , but I have no clue, didn't want to know to be honest'

Charlie really didn't want the first bit to be true , especially since he was only there to hold one of the cameras while they filmed stuff . He was getting way more than he bargained for

'Gross , don't joke about that or it'll come true' he replied a grimace on his face

'They've been at it for a solid half hour , they should be done soon don't worry man'

'Don't worry man ? You clearly aren't hearing this' charlie scoffed at Ted's audacity

'I escaped with minimal trauma thankfully' he could feel Ted's smugness through the screen

'And you didn't think to take me with you?'

'Didn't know if they wanted you to film it'

'You're disgusting nivison' and with that he put his phone back in his pocket and tried to plan what he was going to do next

"I fucking told you that wouldn't fit, are you done trying yet ?"

"It's going to fit I don't care what you say you god damn bitch"  at that charlie knew he had to do something for the safety of his friends

So he did what anyone would do and knocked on the door rather harshly to make sure he was heard

"Yeah , uh kinda busy" He heard y/n say

"I know you guys are in love , but that's a recording room . Also are you okay ?"

"Yeah fine just pissed at this furniture" schlatt admitted

"Schlatt!" Y/n said scolding him

"Are you both decent? Can I come in?"

"Yeah why wouldn't we be" they both simultaneously spoke

The situation he opened the door to was definitely not what he was expecting, but in a good way

They were just trying to put a new coffee table together to replace the one Schlatt broke in the previous recording

"Oh thank god" Charlie said with a hand over his heart as he breathed a sigh of relief "we thought you were doing anal"

"Anal? No one's doing anal , I'm not allowed to anymore" that comment earned him a firm slap to the chest

"Please stop talking, for my sake" charlie begged

At that charlie showed them the texts him and Ted had sent and they put the pieces together

"Oh charlie I'm so sorry you heard that , we just wanted to surprise you with the new coffee table before the next video" y/n apologised to her friend as her boyfriend loudly laughed next to her

"That's so fucking funny man , how did we not realise" he said wiping a tear from his eye "you look so terrified man" he said still laughing and using Charlie's shoulder as a stabilizer

"Is that why ted left?" Y/n asked shocked that everyone thought they were doing such a thing "this is so embarrassing and it's all your fault" she said pointing at her boyfriend who broke the table in the first place

"You have to admit that it's kinda funny" he said turning to face his girlfriend as Charlie called Ted and told him he can come back

"Charlie has the worst luck when it comes to us" she said sympathy evident in her voice "remember when he walked in on us in Ted's bathroom at that party"

"Be thankful it was him and not Ted" this earned him a middle finger in his direction

"What a wacky day it's been" Ted said entering the room they all were in

"You haven't been here for half of it " charlie accused as they chatted about what to film next

[misseviehyde]

INSTITUTIONALIZED

Michael was smart - real smart. But he also knew that he lived in a society full of institutionalized racism that made it harder for a black kid like him to make it in the white world.

He wanted to go to University, but he knew he would be competing against a lot of spoiled white kids and his family didn't have enough money to support him through even the cheapest college.

True he could skip college and get straight to work but he didn't want to end up like his Uncle Luther who was a petty criminal and a bad role model.  Just this morning Luther had woken Michael up and demanded he hide a cache of guns in the house.  Michael was afraid of his uncle so he had obeyed.

It was whilst he was looking through the guns, wondering what he had gotten into and where to put them where his Mom wouldn't find them, that he came across a weird looking blaster.  It looked more like something from a science fiction film than a real gun so he found a serial number on the base and googled it on a black market page.

The info read - "The Costume gun. Stolen hi-tech weapon. Turns anyone fired at into an empty skin that can be worn to allow a person to adopt their identity. Highly dangerous experimental weapon. Can cause identity dysmorphia."

Michael was astonished. He checked a bit further and soon became convinced this was the real deal.  A gun that could let him take another persons identity was now in his possession.  A lot of things began to click in his mind. What if he used the gun to steal the life of a rich, privileged white person about to go to college?

It seemed evil to steal another life, but Michael was sick of being denied opportunities because of systematic racism. He could zap some dumb frat boy - study at university and then one day reverse the effect perhaps. He could work it out as he went along - he just knew he needed to get out of this life.

But where was he gonna find a frat boy?

He put the gun in his bag and went out for a walk to think it over.

It was whilst he was walking down an empty street that he saw Madison Laine - the richest bitch in the neighbourhood approaching. She was walking and talking on her mobile phone to her slutty friends whilst chewing gum. Her tight outfit left very little to the imagination - a tiny pair of daisy dukes and a tight pink boob tube.

She was the same age as Michael but they were definitely not in the same social circles. Madison went to an exclusive private school and her Daddy was a multi-millionaire oil magnate.  She was spoiled, beautiful and rich and already had a place at an Ivy League University.  He had read about her online - she was already a semi-famous instagrammer and aspiring model. Everyone in the area lusted after her in one way or another.

She was also a total bitch and as Michael approached the look of total disdain in her eyes made something in him snap. She giggled and a sneer appeared on her pretty lips. "Oh my gosh girls, I thought all black guys were fucking hot - but I just saw this TOTAL fucking nerd. What a LOSER."

Madison had quite the taste for black guys. She apparantly only fucked black cock and could be found out in the clubs cheating on her white boyfriend nearly every night. That would have turned a lot of black guys on - a perfect blonde snow bunny ready to give herself to superior men.

But Michael was sick of privileged sluts like this one treating black guys like they were either nothing, or simply big dicks to fetishize over. He walked past Madison in barely contained fury and she caught his expression and scowled.

"Hey you... you fucking nerd. How dare you like look at me like that. I'm your fucking superior and you better fucking show it."

Michael ground his teeth. "You're not my superior, you're just an over-privileged white girl that thinks she deserves all her Daddy's blood money."

"Hold on girls, I just need to deal with something," grinned Madison as she hung up. Advancing on Michael she jabbed him hard in the chest with a long acyrillic nail and giggled as he yelped in pain. "Haha, listen dork. All I have to do is make one call to the cops. 'Ohhhhh, help me help me.' Who knows what those racist fucks will do when they see me, the scared innocent white girl being pestered by you."

"You fucking bitch," snapped Michael and suddenly the gun was in his hands.

"What the fuck is that? A toy? Ohhhh this gets even better. They'll probably shoot you when they see you're 'armed'." Laughing Madison began to dial 911.

With a gasp of panic Michael pulled the trigger.

The gun whined and a pink ray leapt out and engulfed Madison. Her face turned suprised, then the beautiful slut moaned softly as her body deflated and in an instant she was just an empty skin lying on the pavement with a discarded handbag and phone next to it.

Michael felt a cold moment of panic - what the hell had he done that for?

He immediately considered flipping the reverse switch and transforming her back - but he knew full well Madison would call the cops. She wouldn't be grateful for him reversing the rays effects.

In a panic he reached down and gathered the skin. It was impossibly soft and her skin smelt amazing. Her hair was even nicer to touch and still felt warm. He stuffed the skin and all the skimpy clothes into his bag and ran home.

On the way, Michael imagined what would happen if a cop stopped him and searched him. How would he explain this situation. He felt more anger than ever.

Safe back home Michael laid Madison and her things on his bed. What was he going to do? If Madison didn't turn up, her bitchy friends and family would stop at nothing to track her down. They'd easily track her back to him and he'd be screwed. If he turned her back, she'd just call the cops on him. He had no choice... he was going to have to become Madison.

A shameful part of him was excited at the idea as he examined the tiny skin and all her girly clothes.

Michael stripped off and then picking up Madison, examined how to wear her. There was a slit down the back of the suit - so he opened it and slowly pushed his feet inside. The skin was soft and warm and his feet slid easily inside. It felt like the skin was eagerly welcoming him inside and clinging to him possessively.

It looked weird as his feet and legs slid in and Madison's skin overrode his. Not only were his legs now perfectly smooth and sexy - they were white. His feet were tiny now. Somehow the skin was making him smaller, fitting him inside. He wiggled his toes and gasped to see the ten perfectly pedicured toes wriggle with their white nails and toe rings.

"Hmmmm this feels pretty good," groaned Michael as he pulled the skin up to his waist. He thrust his cock deep inside the groin of the skin and snapped Madison's taut buttocks over his own. His cock tingled and then sensation vanished, instead replaced by Madison's pampered pink pussy - freshly waxed and shaven.

"Holy fuck I have a pussy now,"  grinned Michael sliding his fingers in and gasping as he felt them slide deep into his own velvety softness.  This was the real deal - the skin was reallt making him into a girl.

He quickly pulled the rest of it up, tugging Madison's big heavy boobs into place. They felt amazing on his body and it was weird to look down and see them hanging there - but also kind of nice. Each one was full and round. Rubbing the nipples felt good.

His whole body was tiny and curvy now. Entirely hairless. A bellybutton ring twinkled in his toned abdomen and washboard tummy.

His arms were now slender and lightly tanned, the fingers ending in slutty acryllic nails and ornamented with rings.

Only one thing was left to do.

With a tingle of excitement Michael slid his head inside Madison's beautiful face and shivered as he felt the slot on the back seal up and the suit tighten.

Blonde hair fastened to his scalp and his eyes rolled up as his voice box changed and he moaned in feminine pleasure as the suit completed transforming him into Madison.

A hot flush ran through him and his head tingled. A host of unfamiliar memories throbbed in his mind and he realised he was gaining all of Madison's knowledge and memories along with enough of her personality and mannerisms to pass safely as her. 

You naughty boy... how does it feel inside me. Good huh?

A voice seemed to whisper in Michael's head telling him he was someone else now. Someone better.

Yesssss Michael. You're a naughty white girl now - you're a slut and a bitch. Your Daddy is rich and you can be a spoiled little whore, every single day. This is what you wanted all along. You're Madison now!

Turning to the mirror the new Madison; giggled as she saw her reflection. A pretty bitch used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it. It felt good to be Madison.

"Ohhhh fuck I feel like sooooo fucking naughty, mmmmmh I am sooooo hawt now." 

Michael smirked at how big his white titties were and how sexy his manicured nails felt. It was amazing to be this beautiful.

Yessss that's it. You're me now loser. You love being me.  Your mind is becoming my mind. Our thoughts and desires are as one. You are inside me and you never want to leave.

Muchael purred as he accepted these strange new thoughts. Whilst in the skin it was so easy to think, act and feel like a naughty bitch.  All thoughts of taking the skin off were burned away by Madison's intrinsic narcissism. Why would anyone NOT want to be her?

Michael knew inside he was still Michael; but right now Michael was enjoying being Madison too much to care. Taking control of Madison's white privilege was making him feel dizzy.

Eughhhh I have to get out of this dump and back to my mansion. I totally have plans to make and college is going to be so much fun now I'm an Alpha bitch.

Picking up Madison's phone Michael laughed delightedly as it unlocked via face recognition. Her life was his. He WAS Madison. He hadn't meant to use the gun on her, but he had and it was too late now.

"Yessss, as Madison I can have it all. I deserve to be the pampered spoiled brat who gets what she wants. Being a mean, white, brat is gonna be so much fun. No wait... what am I saying? I hate girls like Madison."

That's why you wanna be me so badly dweeb. You lust to have my white privilege and get it all. You can't fight me Michael, you're already under my control. Give yourself to me and take your place as the new Madison.

Lying on his bed Michael began to helplessly play with his new body. He was being overwhelmed by Madison's bratty personality, he was becoming her.

You are ME loser.

Michael/Madison opened her eyes and giggled. Of course she was her. Who else would she be?

Her personality now in flux she was about to play with herself some more when she suddenly heard a creak downstairs and her heart skipped a beat. Who the fuck could that be?

The answer came as the door opened and Luther suddenly walked in. He was back to collect his guns, but he gawped and looked amazed as he beheld the gorgeous white girl in his dweeby nephews room. "Hey gorgeous who the fuck are you?"

Michael was usually scared of Luther but now he was Madison, he felt different. In fact Madison felt turned on by this situation. She had never noticed how big and strong Luther was.  She bet he had a big dick too.

"Ohhhh hey, you must be Luther.  I'm Michael's friend from school Madison. In fact we're like actually we're fuck buddies. Mmmmh you see, I can't get enough of black guys you see - I love a big black cock, it's what I live for. Michael is totally average but he's still superior to some white loser."

Michael was amazed at the slutty trash coming out of his mouth - but the Madison part of him was just turned on by it. She felt her pussy get wet as Luther looked at her appraisingly and he unzipped his fly slowly.

"You little white slut - you think my nerdy Nephew is a good fuck, you should come suck on a real mans cock."

"Mmmmh like ummm okay," giggled Madison without hesitation as Luther's massive black dick flopped out and she hungrily advanced.

Michael found his mouth salivating. He couldn't control himself. He was a horny white size queen now and he needed big cock. He couldn't control his new body as Madison's instincts took control.

Meanwhile Luther groaned happily as Madison lowered herself to her knees and slid her hot wet mouth around his dick.

He had no idea his dweeby Nephew had such great taste.

Licking and stroking Luther's cock - worshiping it in delight - Madison giggled as it got bigger and bigger for her. She knew this was twisted and wrong - potentially incestuous even if Luther was a distant 'uncle', but in this skin she wasn't Luther's Nephew anymore - she was a spoiled size queen who loved a big black dick and Luther was all hers. The sense of power - of knowing Luther wanted and needed her mouth and pussy so bad was intoxicating.

Madison got to work sucking and slurping on the monster cock before her.  She had memories of sucking lots of cock - but this was actually the biggest she had ever had and of course in reality - for Michael this was his first. The skin gave him the muscle memory and skills of a practiced college cheerleader - Madison had learned to suck cock years ago and she loved to swallow cum.

Luther moaned in pleasure. This bitch was amazing. "Yesssss that's it baby. White sluts like you live to suck black dick. Work that tongue baby, suck it real good."

Yesss Michael. You really wanna know how it feels to be a slut and be me, hurry up and get that cock inside you. This monster is all yours and it's going to feel so good stretching your tight young pussy out. You're such a bad girl and you love it. At college there will be even more cock to ride. I know you can't wait. You're Madison now so enjoy it!

"Yessss I love being Madison, oooohbh I need you to fuck me Luther - I want your cock so bad," whined Madison as she finished slurping and looked at him endearingly. The voice in her head made her want to do such deliciously nasty things. "Please fuck my pussy." 

Luther bent Madison over and slapped her ass hard. She moaned and pushed her back up - presenting her tight pussy to her lover as he growled in appreciation and slowly pushed his massive cock inside Madison's super tight teenage pussy

"Ohhhhh fuck yes -  ohhhh its so big!" moaned Madison in joy as Luther began to slide in and out of her soaking pussy and thrust harder and harder into her.  It felt so good and her huge tits jiggled as he fucked the shit out of her.

Being a white slut feels good doesn't it?  You love being me.

Luther pounded Madison and she squealed as she orgasmed over his dick. Then he picked her up and fucked her even deeper till she came again.

Madison's pussy juices were dripping down lubricating his cock and making him slide so deep into her perfect pussy and fucking her felt so good. Luther couldn't take much more of this insatiable slut. She was a sex machine.

"Shit baby - I'm gonna cum," he grunted.

"Yessss do it all over my face; I want all that cum,"  begged Madison. Luther was happy to oblige and she squealed in delight as he unloaded all over her pretty face. Thick globs of warm cum erupted over her lips and her chin, dripping down onto her large firm tits.

With cum dripping over his outer body and making him feel like such a delicious whore - inside the skin Michael had accepted that this was his new life now. 

Being Madison felt amazing. The devious slut wondered whether there was even a way to make Luther appear responsible for Michael's inevitable disappearance in a few days.  Maybe she could engineer something after all she had Luther hooked now. 

"Damn girl that pussy is fine. Are you in town all summer?"

"Yeah; till I go to college. We can fuck again if you like baby?"

Luther grinned. He was all for more but he had no idea the horny slut in front of him was already planning to make it look like he killed Michael in a fit of jealousy and her Daddy's lawyers would make mincemeat out of this idiot and keep the story out of the papers. Money and white privillege always won in the end.

"Ooohhh and in the meantime we can fuck that big dick and cum all night.  Hehe we're so bad."

Michael had become exactly the sort of white privileged manipulative bitch he had always despised. As Madison he would go to University, join a sorority ride a lot of dick and party. It was gonna be fun.  Michael was now Madison and he had definitely been institutionalized.

She was gonna use the system to get what she wanted and spend her days filled with big black dick. Fetish or no fetish she was an evil blonde whore and college was going to be a blast.

THE END

[spider-man-199999]

Pacifier pt 3

pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader;

word count: 5K

part1 part2

warnings: mentions of sex ; Peter is younger than the reader, but still 18. Reader is around 20. Peter is trying to pin reader even though he is younger.

summary: In this one you’re hired as Morgan’s babysitter (and low-key underpaid Stark!assistant). Looking after a little girl isn’t too hard, but looking after her “big bother” as well, definitely is.

an: Peter and reader are just Tony's kids at this point. I've never really written anything about people actually being in a relationship so apologies if it's kinda sucky.

"No, we're not making an official Avengers tik-tok account, forget it." You told Peter, who had been begging you for days now.

"But it's going to be soo good! People will see the silly, goofie side of everyone and that way we can build more trust!"

"Pepper, please back me up here!"

"Peter actually has a point." Pepper said.

All of you were sitting at the dinner table, it was the first family dinner since the Starks had come back from their vacation.

"Tony, please!" you looked at him, begging him to support you this time. "Do you seriously think anyone would want to participate in supid dance trends or prank wars?"

"I'm a great dancer!" Tony said, he was taking Peter's side to mess with you.

"I cannot believe this is actually about to happen. Imagine making Steve do a tik-tok dance. Or anyone for that matter. Imagine Tony doing the makarena in the iron suit!"

"It's going to be hilarious, exactly my point!" Peter whined, drinking some of the orange juice he had poured for himself.

"I'm not doing the makarena, I have a daughter!''

"Should have thought about it before backing up Spider-man on that one!"

"Should have thought about it before back up Spider-man on that one!" Tony mocked your tone "The world should see what these hips can do! We're definitely making a tik-tok account now!"

Your "relationship" with Peter was still in the closet, since the first month wasn’t over, you didn't really feel comfortable sharing it with anyone, especially Tony. Peter on the other hand was pretty much settled down. He spent every free minute he had at the tower just to be with you, which was really getting in the way of your studying. He was a lot of help with Morgan, most of the time you felt like both of them shared one brain cell. It made so much sense now why Tony loved Peter like his own son. And that being the case, your secret relationship with him was in the clear.  

You gave Morgan a tissue, helping her wipe away some of the food that was on her face. She giggled because the corner tickled her nose, turning to look at you. You smiled at her, petting her head as she continued eating with her spoon, spilling most of the contents all over the table. 

"Tony, do you even know what tik-tok is?" you asked.

"I'm not that told, of course I know!"

"It's that video app that Morgan watches on your phone." You explained anyway, sure he had no idea what the conversation really was about. 

"It's that? Then no, we're definitely not making a tik-tok account."

---

Somehow Peter managed to persuade all of you into this. But if you think about it, he persuaded you into dating him, he could practically get anything he wanted. And because of this absurd idea, you were now setting up a phone on a tripod, placing it in the middle of the living room. Peter was next to you in his spider suit and the other Avengers were talking on the couch while you two worked. 

"So you guys have to go rounds?" you asked, looking over at Peter. He had his mask off, holding it in one hand. 

"Yeah, and after we film, we have to put the names after every round with an X on an O, depending on who managed to hide in time."

"Sometimes I think you started this whole thing because you don't have any friends." 

"I have friends?"

You took a few steps back, seeing what was in the frame. 

"Yeah? Like who? And you're not allowed to say me, we're not friends."

"Well, there's Ned and MJ."

"I don't think this is going to work out."  You said, looking at the others. "You literally have gigantic, muscular men, trying to hide in a minimalistic living room. And then there's also the Hulk."

“Did you just thirst over muscular men right in front of me?” Peter laughed, placing his hand on your waist. Usually you would tense up when he did that, but since you were now dating, you didn't.  "Trust me, it will be fun!" 

"Mask on please, get everyone in position." 

He nodded, putting his mask on and telling everyone to gather in front of the camera and pose. You stood behind the phone, looking at the frame. Everyone was in it. They were gathering like they were about to take a picture, standing in cool superhero poses. 

"Okay guys, you look poster worthy. I'll count to 3 and all of you have 5 seconds to hide somewhere before the camera takes a picture!" you explained. Peter had ran through this with them before but you felt the need to explain again. "1, 2, 3..." 

And you pressed record. Pure chaos was unleashed after that. Peter shot a web and stuck to the ceiling, Thor jumped over the couch along with Cap, laying flat on it so they were not visible. Hulk just grabbed the couch with both of them on it, lifting it and putting it in front of him sideways, while the others just fell on the ground on top of each other. Natasha practically jumped on an armchair that got knocked over from her force and got out of the frame entirely. The 5 seconds were over and you were barely holding in your laughter at that point. You had expected this to go badly but not nearly as bad as it actually was. 

You did a few more rounds, each one more ridiculous than the previous. And after that you got to work, writing out the winners and losers to each round in your notes. Now all that was left was editing it and posting. 

—

You were sitting at your desk, biting your lip as you were concentrating on figuring out where to place all the names and scores on the screen so they wouldn’t block out any important things in the video. Or should you have them appear at the end? Your work was interrupted by Peter walking in your room, making your head turn. He had the mask in his hand, still wearing the suit. 

“Hi, pumpkin!” he said, which made you raise an eyebrow at him and squint your eyes in displeasure. 

“That sounded ridiculously cheesy and I really hate it.’’ 

“I thought introducing some kind of pet name into this relationship would be nice, I need to change your name in my phone.” 

“Think of another one.”

He walked over to you, a gentle kiss was immediately placed on the top of your head while his eyes wandered to your phone, looking as the video played with half of the scorings written in the middle of it. 

“Ooo, did I win?” he asked, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Mmmm, you didn’t lose definitely, but you lost a point on the third round when you stuck yourself in fetal position to Hulk’s back and he started spinning in circles trying to get you off.” 

“That’s not fair! I hid well!”

“But the camera still saw you, I don’t make the rules.”

He kissed your cheek before laying down on your bed. You finished up the video and hit upload before following him. It was still new and uncomfortable for you to be affectionate with him in public, but your room offered a safe space to try. You wouldn’t shut him down when he tried making a move on you in front of the others like you used to do, but initiating intimacy yourself was really out of the picture. He put his phone away when he saw you get up, opening his arms. You lay on top of him as he wrapped his arms in a warm embrace. You relaxed your weight on him, head pressed against his chest. Cons to having a spider-man boyfriend was you were never worried you’d crush him.

“I need to say something and I don’t want it to turn into a fight.” he said, making you look at him.

You placed your hands on top of his chest, resting your head on them as you watched him. 

“What is it about?” you asked.

“Since the month of us trying to date is almost over…” 

“Pete… I know what you’re gonna say and the month isn’t over yet. Please don’t let it get over your head before it actually happens.”

“But we’re a week away from a month!”

“I know but a lot can happen in a week… You know exactly how much.” You told him, referring to the time you two had spent alone together almost a month ago. 

“Okay, okay, baby mice steps. I get it.”

“Precisely.”

You tried to relax after the conversation, laying your head on his chest while he stroked your back gently. For some reason it was just not working to calm you down. You turned to look at him again and he was already staring, a soft smile painted across his lips. A soft sigh escaped yours, your hands reaching out to wrap around his neck and pull yourself closer to him. Still feeling uneasy from what he said, you slid your body on one of his sides, hiding your face in his neck. He giggled softly because you tickled him in the process, squeezing you gently.

“I’m sorry.” you mumbled against his neck, your hand drawing soft circles on his chest. 

Peter hummed softly, raising your chin with his hand to place a soft kiss on your lips. 

“It’s okay, I know I’m impatient.” 

“No, I think you’re being reasonable. I’m the one who’s overreacting.”

He kissed you again, slowly and gently, his lips moving against yours while he still held your chin with his hand.

“You’re alright, babe. Baby steps.” 

You nodded, letting your head fall on his shoulder this time, placing soft kisses on his jawline.

“Baby steps.” You repeated in a whisper.

You enjoyed cuddling with him more than you had anticipated, neither of you expected your primary love language to be physical touch. But Peter didn’t mind that even one bit, he loved touching you for comfort, his hands were on your legs whenever you two went somewhere with the car, no matter who was driving. He would make sure to place his hand one the small of your back whenever you two would pass each other in a hallway. His knee would touch yours under the dinner table when he was over. It was subtle and it brought the both of you so much comfort and adrenaline. You were basically hiding in plain sight. 

You had no idea if Tony was onto the two of you yet or not. Peter was over way more than he used to be, he even sneaked in a few times during the night. The alarms wouldn’t go off because, well it was Peter after all. It wasn’t like you were trying to sneak in someone who wasn’t registered into the security systems. And Tony adored the kid, so he was extra happy about having him around more. Things were going pretty smoothly if anyone had to ask you.

—

You hated to admit, but Peter was right. This whole tik-tok thing was an absolute hit. It humanized all of the Avengers so much that people started trusting and liking them more than ever before. You were getting millions of likes and comments on all of the videos you uploaded, which were more or less different trends. It was annoying that you had to run the whole account, like you didn’t have enough work to do. 

Today you filmed the tortilla slap challenge with Bucky, Natasha and Sam. Peter desperately wanted to join it but everyone was against the idea of him publicly announcing his secret identity, especially for a tik-tok. So you made him mop up the floor after, since he wanted to be involved so badly. 

All of them went into a meeting straight after that, leaving you with 10 minutes to run and grab a coffee for everyone. The 10 minutes you had were definitely not enough to make it back with so many cups. And to top it all off, the Parker family was on a mission to make it extra difficult for you. Peter was spamming your messages begging you to listen to “Yellow hearts” by Ant Saunders because somehow it was “exactly describing the relationship you two had.” And you were walking down a street, trying to reply to a message, hands full of coffee cups, when you ran into Peter’s aunt - May.

“Oh, Y\N! Lovely seeing you!” she said with a bright cheerful smile, making you look up from your phone. You were trying to support the cups with your chin while you texted, because all of them couldn’t fit in the paper bag. 

“May! Hey!” you replied once you shook off the surprise, shoving the phone in your back pocket.

“How are you, sweetheart? I’ve been hearing about you lately, but not seeing enough.” she smiled, placing a hand on your arm as she spoke. 

“I’m alright, a little busy actually. Are you here to pick up Parker JR after the meeting?”

“Yes, and I thought I could drink some coffee while I’m waiting. Peter recommended the place.”

“He did, didn’t he?” you asked, trying to mask how frustrated and overwhelmed you were becoming. “I need to run, I’m already late.”

“It’s okay, we can catch up another time? Dinner over at Queens this week?” she asked, but you were already walking away from her. 

You turned your head to look at her in a little bit of a shock, not expecting a whole dinner invitation to her house. Your fears turned out to be true, Peter had told her about dating you.  

“I’m very busy, I’ll tell the spider whenever I can.” You smiled politely at her before walking away, in the most rapid pace you could manage without actually running.

--

“Hey, kid, these are for you.” you heard Tony say as he walked into the living room.

You were helping Morgan with a coloring book, or rather watching her color in it from time to time while you read through your biology textbook. Exams were coming up and you didn’t have a second to spare. Tony’s voice captured your attention, making you look up and see him hold a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white roses, decorated with little daisies.

“For me? Thank you Tony, but that’s so weird.”

“They’re not from me. They were left for you at the door.”

“The front door?”

“No, by the doggy door.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, getting up to look at the flowers yourself. In the meantime Tony took the card out reading out loud. You tried stopping him by grabbing the card but he lifted his hand up, making you jump to try to get it but failing. 

“Thank you for coming to dinner last night, love, your secret boyfriend.” he read, looking at you in shock “You have a boyfriend?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Does Peter know about you having a boyfriend?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yes, and he’s not sending you flowers at your door for having dinner with him. Who is he?”

“Tony, you’re not my dad.”

Your words made him snap out of his protective mode, giving you the flowers and the note. You took them in your arms reluctantly, reading the note to be sure he was actually right about what was written on it. Tony looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t really decode, it looked like shock, pain and worry at the same time. You were going to kill Peter, for real this time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.” you said, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the two of you.

He placed an arm on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. 

“Nothing to apologize for here, I know I can never replace your parents, I’m not trying either.” Tony gave your shoulder a pat, turning around to look at Morgan, who had stopped coloring and was now listening to the two of you.

“Thank you… For worrying about me, I appreciate it. I know I don’t say it enough but I value your presence in my life, or rather my presence is yours.”

“Please don’t make this more awkward than it already is.”

“Usually I’m the one who says that.”

“Would you look at that, your boyfriend has made you cheesy.” 

You shook your head in disgust from his words, watching him as he walked over to Morgan and lifted her up in his arms, spinning around as he hugged her. It was your queue to leave before it got any weirder, so you gathered your books and left as fast as you could.

Shutting the door of your room behind you, phone on your ear as you had already dialed Peter’s number. He picked up on the fourth ring, right before you gave up on this call. 

“Hey!” His cheerful voice on the other side of the line.

“What’s with those flowers?” you asked, cutting right to the chase.

“Don’t you like them? May said it was what I was supposed to do after you came over for dinner and she said flowers would be a ni-”

“I love the flowers, but Tony found them before I did.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you for not being dumb enough to not sign your name on that card.” you sighed, placing the bouquet on your desk next to the messy piles of notebooks. “Now he thinks I have a boyfriend.”

“But you do have a boyfriend.” he laughed softly. You could hear his smile on the other side of the line.

“I know this label makes you very happy, I’m glad it does, but please be more careful next time.”

“Alright, bet, next time I want to bring you flowers I’ll stick them to the ceiling of your room with my webs so no one else can see them.”

“Now that’s a thought.” you laughed, looking at the ceiling just to make sure he hadn’t already done that.

In reality, you weren’t mad at him for sending you flowers. You loved them, it was a very nice gesture and it made you feel warm on the inside. Sure, it wasn’t the best way to receive them and it stressed you out, but at the end of the day, you had a very good boyfriend that wanted to make you happy.

— 

Peter walked in the apartment holding a red rose in his hand. His smile was spread across his face as the elevator door opened in front of him, leading him into the big living space. He came here straight from school, after his Math quiz. He didn’t bother going home first to leave his backpack, went straight to a flower shop to get you a rose and head to the Stark tower so he could invite you on a very special date. He expected you to be watching over Morgan alone and it caught him by surprise when he saw Tony sitting on the couch. You were standing next to him, reading over something which he had probably given you. Tony turned his head, noticing it was Peter with the side of his eye. 

“Hey, kid.” he said.

Peter froze in his spot, his heart pounding in his chest from the fear of how this was going to play out. He had to think of something really fast. He threw the rose in the air as Tony’s head moved to face you again for a second, shooting a web at it to stick it to the ceiling. 

“What’s with that rose?” Tony asked a second later, after he processed what he had seen, turning fully around to look at Peter.

“What rose?” Peter replied, looking around, his hands empty now. 

“I swear you were holding a rose just now.”

“No, I wasn’t. Maybe you saw my Math quiz with this big red A written on it.” The paper was folded in half and shoved in his back pocket because he was in such a rush to get here, he didn’t have time to put it in his bag. He took the paper out of his pocket, showing it to Tony. 

Their conversation made you look up at Peter. You knew he was lying. The tone of his voice sounded nervous and like he was going to crack under the pressure. 

“You need to work on your lying skills.” Tony said, turning his back to him and looking at you again. You looked at Peter, then at Tony and your gaze fell on the papers. 

“Everything seems fine.” You told Tony, handing him the red folder back. He had hired some new engineers for his labs, helping him and wanted you to review their work just in case. It wasn’t like you were majoring in engineering, your passion was biology and biochemistry, but you just knew math well enough to spot any mistake if there was any.

“Okay, thank you. You’re free now” He told you, reading through the folder again. 

Ten minutes later Tony was still sitting on the couch, reading through the folder. You and Peter silently decided to study on the kitchen table across from each other. You were already engrossed in the textbook you were reading, highlighting, writing things down in your notebook, sticking sticky notes in the book. You were trying your best to ignore Peter’s constant fidgeting in his seat, the annoyed flipping through pages with sighs escaping his lips. His hands moving on the table when he would get bored, making you flinch in your seat, worried he would try to touch you in front of Tony. You heard silent ripping of paper, trying to ignore it, but Peter threw it a small paper ball at you to get your attention. You looked over at him, annoyed by his overall behavior in the last 10 minutes. Both of you had finals knocking at your doors and he was doing everything in his power to distract you. He pointed at the ceiling as soon as your eyes met, making you look in the direction. And there it was, the rose Tony was talking about earlier, a single red rose, webbed onto the ceiling. You wanted to burst out laughing but held yourself back, looking at Peter again. He was writing something, passing it to you a few seconds later.

“Will you be my prom date?” it read, looking at him and shaking your head no. You had already told him a million times you were not going to do it. He pouted, putting his hands together and locking his fingers into a prayer, begging you to say yes. You shook your head again, giving him back the note. 

“What the hell are you two doing?” Tony asked, making the two of you jump in your seats. 

He had been looking at the two of you for the past 5 minutes, he saw the rose as well, saw Peter begging you and you declining. He was standing by the table. This whole time you felt like you were in detention with Peter, and now that Tony caught you, the feeling got deeper. Neither of you said anything, staring at Tony in shock. And since you wouldn’t speak, Tony took the paper and laughed. 

“I don’t think her boyfriend is gonna like that.”

“Her boyfriend?” Peter asked, looking at you.

“Yeah, she has a boyfriend.”

“I don’t think he’ll mind.” Peter continued. 

“I definitely think he will.” 

“No he won’t, he’ll be quite happy actually.”

“What is making you think that?”

“Because it’s me, I’m her boyfriend.”

You didn’t say a word the entire conversation. A few weird looks were shared between the three of you in complete silence. You felt like you wanted to die. Peter turned to stare at you, waiting for you to confirm it. Tony was staring at you too, unsure if this was real or another attempt of Peter’s to flirt with you. Then he laughed, Tony started laughing loudly and sincerely. He was laughing so hard you could see a tear running down his cheek. Peter whined, throwing his head back in frustration from his reaction. 

“It’s true! Tell him!”

You gulped, looking at the still-laughing Tony. 

“It is.” you almost whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. 

“Wait.” Tony stopped, looking at the two of you with furrowed brows. “Really?”

“Yeah.” you said, nodding softly. 

—

The lights flashed softly as you walked in, blinding you for a second. You tried to walk in a straight line but the lights did not help you at all. You grabbed Peter’s arm for support, scared you would miss a threshold that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and trip. Peter looked over at you in concern, thinking something had suddenly made you anxious. You looked at him as well, blinking rapidly, trying to adjust to the light changing all of a sudden. Your hand was holding his biceps, squeezing it softly. He placed his other hand on yours, patting softly. He stared at you until you nodded that you were okay now and you could continue walking. Of all the cringe things you were expecting to see tonight, a disco ball was definitely not on the list. 

“Penis Parker with an actual date to prom? This will go down in history as the biggest plot twist!” You heard a somewhat familiar voice from behind you, turning around only to be faced with Flash. 

“Oh, it’s that annoying guy.” You said, looking at Peter, who nodded in agreement. 

“Wait, I know you, you were at my party once.”

“Unfortunately, yes, I was.”

“Why are you with that loser, ditch him, you should be my date instead.” Flash said, reaching a level of annoyance you didn’t even know existed.

“Sorry, I don’t do charity work on evenings but you can try the homeless kitchen in Queens on Saturdays and Tuesdays, I’m usually there to help on those days.” you told him as Peter wrapped his arm around your waist. “Plus we’re kind of already matching.” you pointed at Peter. “Your costume wannabe will clash with my dress and that’s a big no from me.”

Peter was trying his best not to laugh as you were absolutely destroying Flash verbally. It brought back memories from when you used to do the same with his attempts to flirt.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t want to know what kind of sado-maso sex you two freaks are having.”

“Did you just call me a sadist? I didn’t know you could read people so well, Flash!” you asked, looking at Peter for back up.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Peter said, pulling you closer to him and walking the two of you away. “That was brutal, can’t let you ruin his ego on his prom night!”

“Someone had to do it!” you whined, your hands crossing in front of your chest.

“We’re here to have a good time! Come on! Let’s dance and not think about Flash.”

“Remind me, how exactly did you convince me to come to this? I hated my own prom and I’m definitely hating yours too.”

“You want me to remind you?”

You nodded, his hands resting on each side of your hips as he looked at you. His forehead pressed against yours, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“Are you sure you want me to remind you here?” he whispered in your ear.

You nodded again, looking at him. Your arms still crossed on your chest. 

“In front of all these people?” He asked with a fake shocked expression on his face, pulling your body closer. You rolled your eyes at him, his arms wrapping around you, chests pressed together. 

Your heartbeat accelerated as you looked at him, faces inches away from each other. His hot breath glided across the skin on your face, making your eyes fall shut as his lips gently touched yours. His fingers dug into the soft skin on your back. You rested your hands on his chest as he kissed you, consciously trying not to ruin his suit by grabbing anything you shouldn’t. He wasn’t that careful tho, his other hands scrunching the fabric that was so perfectly wrapped around your waistline, in desperate attempts to feel your body closer to his.

“Did I remind you?” he asked, breath heavy as he broke the kiss seconds before.

“You basically just admit to seducing me into this.” you told him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you gently to the rhythm of the blues that was playing in the background. 

“You can never just fall on your back, can you?”

“Never!” 

The two of you laughed, him kissing your forehead as you continued swaying, wrapped in each other's embrace.

---

taglist (If you want to be added or removed, please DM me!)

@asthmaticcchoeee @ivyquill

[thepictureofjune]

The music of Noah Temel

— from anger to loss to self discovery and love

this has been in my docs for two months now and it's (hopefully) the last day to actually post sad Noah content so might as well drop it now.

What is this? Songs I associate with Noah and kinda why I chose to associate them with him. Kinda Nolin focused tho obviosuly. :)

Nolin Playlist in case anyone is curious abt other songs

Verschwende deine Zeit by Edwin Rosen

Ich verschwende meine Jugend Verschwende mein Geld Ich verschwende meine Hoffnung Und alles zerfällt Ich verschwende meine Zeit Meine Zeit mit dir Verschwende meine Zeit Meine Zeit mit dir Du verschwendest deine Liebe Verschwendest dein Geld Du verschwendest deine Hoffnung Ich schau zu, wie du zerfällst Du verschwendest deine Zeit Deine Zeit mit mir Verschwendest deine Zeit Deine Zeit mit mir

Noah doesn’t want to be at Einstein, he has a hard time making friends and is basically just wasting time until he is allowed to leave again but then Colin comes around and suddenly they are wasting their time together. They make movies, they watch movies, they joke, they banter, etc. It’s all easy and there are never any issues between them as they are only wasting time together by staring at walls and thinking of nothing. Through this motion, Colin becomes Noahs best friend, his favorite person because he is the only one Noah can waste his time with and have it actually not feel like wasted time.

1980s Horror Film by Wallows 

It seems so long I need someone I don't know what to say She was sitting there I could touch her hair But still we watch A 1980s horror film Jamie I don't know what to say to you I feel You're always on my mind

Colin invites him to see a movie as an apology and also to demonstrate that he truly wants to be his friend. Noah seems like he hasn’t had a friend in quite a while now and that he missed having one and well, after the visit theatre and some quick resolved tension, Colin is always on his mind, isnt he? He is in fact so much on Noahs mind that Noah has to make a whole own movie in order to focus on his feelings.

Crush Culture by Conan Gray

I don't care if I'm forever alone I'm not falling for you 'Cause this baby is loveproof (culture) I don't care what you're sayin' I don't wanna participate in your game of manipulation (crush) And no, I don't want your sympathy, all this love is suffocating Just let me be sad and lonely

Basically Noah after the kiss up until 1056 and you can't convince me otherwise

When you’re gone by Shawn Mendes

I need to learn how to cope without you I'm tryna protect myself, but only you know how to, yeah Oh, I know what we're supposed to do Oh, but I hate the thought of losing you So I'm just tryna hold on Hold on, I don't wanna know what it's like when you're gone I don't wanna move on I don't wanna know what it's like when you're gone for good You're slipping through my fingertips A little bit, by a little bit I didn't know that loving you was the happiest I've ever been

Noah misses Colin as soon as he is gone, coming down with the realization that aside from Colin, he really didn’t have a lot that kept him at the school.

Deep End by Felix (Stray Kids)

How've you been? I guess you're fine It's been pretty long Since we've last seen Honestly Throughout my life Deep inside I never felt alive The way you used to touch my soul Was always so sweet and lovely No matter how far apart we were You'd always pick up the phone But now I'm truly all alone in this world I miss the way you felt so close to my bones

To be Alone by Hozier 

All I've ever done is hide From our times when you're near me Honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes I feel like a person for a moment of my life But you don't know what hell you put me through To have someone kiss the skin that crawls from you To feel your weight in arms I'd never use It's the god that heroin prays to Oh to be alone with you

I do feel like if Noah ever admits his feelings, he’d go crazy Hozier-level obsessed with Colin. Also I’ll leave you with Hozier himself explaining the message of the song: "The artist explains that being alone is not necessarily a bad thing. It can be a source of self-discovery and self-reflection, allowing one to discover their true self."

Pretty Noah at the end of 1056 + 1057 to me up until the Ava talk scene.

so american by Olivia Rodrigo

He says I'm pretty wearin' his clothes And he's got hands that make hell seem cold Feet on the dashboard He's like a poem I wish I wrote I wish I wrote When he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so american Oh god, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much I'll go anywhere he goes

Hear me out. It makes sense

I guess I'm in love by Clinton Kane

Oh, I'm obsessed With the way your head is laying on my chest How you love the things I hate about myself And no one knows, but with you, I see hope again Oh, I'm a mess When I overthink the little things in my head You seem to always help me catch my breath But then I lose it again, when I look at you, that's the end And why do I get so nervous when I look into your eyes? Butterflies can't stop me falling for you And darling, this is more than anything I felt before You're everything that I want, but I didn't think I'd find Someone who is worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak But I know now I found the one I love

Extra: I won’t say (I’m in Love) 

No chance, no way I won't say it, no, no It's too cliché I won't say I'm in love I thought my heart had learned its lesson It feels so good when you start out My head is screaming "Get a grip, girl Unless you're dying to cry your heart out" You keep on denying Who you are and how you're feeling Baby, we're not buying Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (Oh, no) Face it like a grown-up When you gonna own up That you got, got, got it bad?

Pretty self-explanatory…The little vocals obviously relate to Ava and Joel and how they feel about Noah not admitting anything.

will upload the colin version of this in a bit, see ya then and happy calm before the storm day :]

[nathancone]

Richard M. Sherman, 1928-2024

Richard Sherman, who died today at age 95, wrote along with his brother Robert some of the most memorable melodies of the 20th Century, including songs from “Mary Poppins,” “The Jungle Book,” and one of the biggest earworms of all time, “It’s a Small World.” (I happen to love it.) Sherman was one of the last living links to Walt Disney himself, and in 2023, got to revisit Walt’s old office as part of a Disney 100 special film, “Once Upon a Studio.”

In 2011, I was overjoyed to have an opportunity to interview Sherman by phone as part of the advance promotion for a touring production of “Mary Poppins” on stage. Today I listened back to my interview and smiled all over again. After our talk, Sherman asked if I’d send him a copy of the produced interview on CD, which I did. Then HE wrote me a thank you note, complimenting me! What a wonderful person he was.

Below is the transcript of my interview.

*****

Nathan Cone: This is an honor and a privilege to talk to you. Because I've been a big Disneyphile and Disney fan since I was a young boy.

Richard Sherman: That's nice. Thank you for saying that. That's very sweet of you.

Yeah, my wife asked me this morning, she said “You have your interview today, don't you?” And I said, “yeah, I do.” And she said, “are you ready?” I said, “I've been ready for 35 years.”

Oh my God! [laughs] Well, I'm thrilled to be giving you an interview. So ask away and I'll be happy to tell you anything you'd like to know.

Thank you so much. I wanted to know, first, when you and your brother Robert began writing songs for Mary Poppins, there was no script, only the stories by Pamela Travers. And in some ways, I think your songs helped shape the story, I guess. How do you see Mary Poppins?

Well, it's an interesting thing you used the word story, because if you read the books that Mrs. Travers wrote, you'd find a brilliant character and a lot of wonderful adventures and absolutely no story whatsoever. There is no storyline in her books. There's only adventures with a magical nanny. And what we did was we superimposed a story, a need for Mary Poppins to come. In other words, there was the original book, the original story that we came up with for when our first meeting with Walt was... We said there was no story. We just said there was a definite need because chaos was reigning in the house and, Mary Poppins came in and straightened out and gave life lessons and and that. And then, of course, in the development of the story, which in large part was due to a gentleman by the name of Walt Disney and his two of his finest talents, and that was Bill Walsh and Don DiGradi, these people, and my brother Bob and I shaped a story, and it evolved that the Banks family was, in a kind of a discordant position. And, that's the whole thing. I mean, I'm waffling away, but basically, we cobbled together a story. Walt bought the concept, and he liked the ideas of the songs we had. Mrs. Travers wrote the books in the period of 1934 through 1939-40. And it was depressing. England. It was a very drab period. And, it was an arbitrary decision on my brother's and my part to set the story back at the turn of the last century so that we'd have the English music-hall style music, and it would be very special. And you could believe that a nanny would come flying out of the air. And so basically, these are the things that we contributed to Mrs. Travers' great stories, because she had wonderful stories. There's no question about it. But they didn't have any way to hold an audience in their seats for 2.5 hours? No way.

And you alluded to this, that she was reluctant to allow her books to be made into a film. And I understand she had some reservations about this. What kind of feedback did you and your brother get from her when you were presenting songs?

She didn't understand why we were doing songs at all. She said, what's the point of this? You know, we had this Admiral Boom, and we had a little song for him. She said, "Why don't you use ‘Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay?’ You have the word 'boom' in it.” And I said, “because it's an original musical we're trying to write.” And then she says, “Well, I love ‘Greensleeves.’ Why don't you use Greensleeves?’” I said, “Because it's hundreds of years old and everybody knows it. We want to do something fresh and original.” And she just didn't get the idea. She was anything but showbiz, if you follow me. She had no concept of what we were going for, and that was a piece of entertainment for the world and for posterity, inspired by her books. But she, Mrs. Travers, was difficult. And to say it… I'm being very kind about that!

I love hearing you tell stories about how, with Feed the Birds it was Disney's favorite song, and how he felt it was the key to the to the story itself.

Yeah. Well, when we were working on developing an idea for how to do Mary Poppins, we came across this one story in Mrs. Travers first book, and it was about this lady who sat on the steps of Saint Paul's Cathedral and sold bread crumbs. She didn't explain what that story was all about. She just said, this lady sits on the bread on the steps of Saint Paul's and says, “feed the birds, tuppence a bag.” And that was all there was in it. And when we read the story we said, “My God, that could be... That could be the key to this whole thing.” It doesn't cost very much to buy some breadcrumbs to feed birds, but that's not what it's about. It's not about the cost of breadcrumbs and birds. It doesn't take much to give a kindness, to give love. And we got very excited. And by getting excited about this one thing, we said, this could be the key to this whole damn story, Mary Poppins comes in and teaches a family a lesson in giving, in giving love and giving a little extra dimension. And that's what she does. And she all of her little life lessons are involved in feeding the birds. In other words, giving that smile, giving that hug, giving that love, giving that extra little something that doesn't cost you anything. And so basically, we wrote this song. We were very inspired by it. And I remember we didn't know much about England or Saint Paul's Cathedral. We got pictures and there were pictures of the saints and apostles standing around on the top of the trellis on the top of the building there. And we said, okay, all the all around the cathedral, the saints and apostles look down as she sells their wares. I mean, we just made it up as we went along. And my God, it was such a good song. We got very excited about it. Now, we didn't make a big to-do when we played it for Walt the first time, but he listened to it along with some other stuff we had written, and he said, “That's the key to this whole story, isn't it?” We said, “yes, yes it is.” And that's when he said, “How’d you guys like to come and work here?”

Of course, he knew that we were thinking story and he was a storyteller. He was the master storyteller of the last century, God knows. And he knew that Bob and I were story writers. We didn't just write jolly tunes and stuff. We tried to say a lot more with our music than just, yeah, little carry tunes.

We have a stage musical now that is different from the movie... How does it differ from the movie?

Well, it differs in only this regard. The basic thrust of the story is exactly the same as the movie. The difference is the fact that there are new stories added. There are new dimensions to the characters. There's more knowledge of what the mother was all about. And we made her a suffragette. And, in the new incarnation on stage, she's a frustrated actress. She had been an actress, and she married Mr. Banks. And also there's new material in this play about Mr. Banks, his background, the reason why he became such a sort of a stiff, tight, restricted, thwarted individual was because he had his horrible nanny, Miss Andrew, who was a terrible nanny and, he was, like, thwarted in life. He didn't show emotion. He didn't show anything. And so, Mary Poppins comes and corrects all that. She comes in and does wonderful things for the whole family. And that's using a lot of the adventures and stuff that Bob and I had done in the original. The story basically is Mary Poppins comes in and straightens out a dysfunctional family. And you could say that about both the film and the play. The play goes a lot deeper. Julian Fellowes, who was a brilliant writer, wrote the book and he's wonderful. And Stiles and Drewe, the two wonderful English songwriters, added quite a number of good songs, new songs, along with the material that Bob and I had written. Because, basically the backbone of the story is still the same, and we have Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Spoonful of Sugar Chim Chim Cher-ee, all of the songs are still in there and beautifully done, by the way.

And were you and Robert consulted for, the project or asked to, contribute in any way to, new aspects?

Spiritually! [laughs] No, actually, the project was mounted in England with as a joint project with Cameron Mackintosh and Tom Schumacher, who is the head of Disney Theatrical. And between Tom Schumacher and Cameron Mackintosh, this story was developed and evolved. The stage story. And the stage story is wonderful. And they did incorporate much of our music. I was in a sense, let's say a spiritual guru. I, I was consulted a bit on it so but basically not officially. So I didn't want to say I was officially involved in it.

Well, you and your brother Robert wrote many, many songs for the film that never made it into the picture, some of which you can hear on the DVD releases of Mary Poppins. So, you know, y'all must have a tremendous backlog of great music from Mary Poppins and dozens of other projects. What happens to those songs?

Well, you see, Bob and I were staff writers at the studio. So in all truth, when you write for a studio and you're a staff writer, it belongs to the studio. Many of the songs that we wrote for Poppins wound up in other Disney projects, and I'm happy to say a lot of them had very big, responses in different ways. A couple of examples of that are, let's see, The Beautiful Briny Sea, for example, was in a compass sequence in Mary Poppins, which was abandoned. And so The Beautiful Briny Sea was a big featured number in Bedknobs and Broomsticks seven years later, where Angela Lansbury, as this magical witch, takes these people on an adventure under the water. And it was very nice. Originally it was Mary Poppins that was going to do it, but that sequence was left out. And so we just took the song lock, stock and barrel and used it in a different picture. Then it was like a very beautiful, haunting theme that we had written for another adventure with Mary Poppins. It was called The Land of Sand. And they went to the Sahara Desert, and they were seeing, visions rising out of the sand, you know, images. And so we changed the words and it became Trust In Me, the song that the vicious snake sang, Kaa, in The Jungle Book. So the melody was the same, but the words are different. But that haunting, theme was used and it was very successful. So we've had a number of things where we've taken songs. Songwriters call it the trunk. It's something you've written but never used. It never had a home, so you can't necessarily use it exactly as such. But you can take the spirit of a piece or a melody and use it again. And that's what we do.

Well, Sterling Holloway did such a great job with that Trust in Me song. He's got such a unique voice. I'm wondering on films and working on projects. Do you like to write for a voice like Phil Harris or Sterling Holloway or David Tomlinson or Angela Lansbury better, or do you just hope that they find life in a picture somewhere? How did it work?

No, we write for character. It's always story and character. We never think about who is going to sing it. I think, once I think one time, twice, twice... Because we were on staff, we knew that Walt wanted to use Burl Ives in this picture was Summer Magic. So we thought of burrow when we wrote On the Front Porch and a song called The Ugly Bug Ball. We did a novelty and we did a very pretty song, old fashioned song that we knew this was a wonderful folk singer and he knew exactly how to handle this kind of material. So we wrote that for him. In the case of, we did three pictures starring Maurice Chevalier. The first one was, In Search of the Castaways. And then I think we did. Let's see, we did. The Aristocats was another one, and Monkeys Go Home, three pictures for Disney and all three, we knew it was going to be Chevalier, and we directly wrote this material for Chevalier. But other than that, we only wrote for characters. We never wrote for Julie, we never wrote for Dick Van Dyke, we never wrote for Angela or any of these people. We just wrote for the characters. And these wonderful, wonderful, talented ladies and gentlemen came in and interpreted the music. So basically, no. And Bob and I, I can say honestly, have always written 99% of our material for the character in the story and not for a star.

Well, you know, besides writing for the movies, you've also written songs for several of Disney's theme park rides, including a It's a Small World in the Carousel of Progress. 

Ah, you did your homework!

Yeah, I love these rides. I love them… and Magic Journeys.

Oh yeah, thank you! That's one of our favorites.

I love this music. And Disney famously conceives of their rides as stories in and of themselves. And so....

Yes, they are. You have to you have to tell a story, and you have to get the mood and the feel and the chemistry of the event, of course. For example, the very first song ever written for, a theme park, what was In the Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, which is the Tiki Room, right? I mean, there's not a ride, it's an experience, you know, you see the audio animatronics, flowers and dolls and birds and tiki torches all singing and chanting, and it's amazing. It's an amazing thing. But when that was first created way back in the early 60s, Walt had a mockup of it done in one of the soundstages out in the studio, and he'd bring his guests to see it. He was very proud of this thing, and it didn't have a song, but it had a lot of music in it because all this thing would come alive, and then they would sing, Let's All sing like the Birdies Sing and the Hawaiian War Chant and all these delightful classic songs. And people would say to him, “Walt, what the devil is this? What's this all about? What is it? What is it?” And so one day, as again as staff writers, we were called down to this meeting, where we saw this experience for the first time, and the same thing came out of mouth. “Walt, what the hell is this?” And he looked right at us and said, “You're going to write a song is going to explain it!” Oh, oh, that's why we're here, I see. [laughs] Okay. And so we wrote the song called In the Tiki Tiki Tiki Room, which was a calypso which tells the story of who they are and what they are and why they're singing. All the birds sing words. And the flowers croon in the tiki tiki tiki room.

It was just a cute little statement, but all of a sudden you could understand what it was and it was a magical place. And so Walt got the idea, hey, the Sherman brothers are pretty good for this. And then we started writing Carousel of Progress, and we did Small World, all in that short period of about a year. We had done a number of things, and over the years we've done at least 15 songs for the parks and the rides and the things.

So as staff writers on the lot in the ‘60s, then, what was a typical day like? How many different projects were you working on?

Oh, you know, you could actually be assigned to do several things. And always on the back burner was a major project like Poppins. For two years we were working on that while we were doing all these other pictures and all these other projects. We'd have maybe 5 or 6 things going at the same time, but we didn't, you know, just apportion our hours. We just wrote what was the deadline we're going to have a meeting on Sword in the Stone, we're going to have a meeting on Jungle Book. So you better get this sequence written. So we would do it sequence at a time, and we come up with, I Wanna Be Like You for the ape, for example. We'd have that for a project in mind, or we'd have, the Colonel Hathi's March where they wanted to have a character number for the elephants, and so we'd have a meeting on it, and then five months later we do another one. It was just, constantly being involved, and we were involved in many things at the same time. But it didn't always happen simultaneously.

You know, until I saw a documentary, about your life and your brother Robert's, The Boys, that y'all's sons had produced… I had no idea that as brothers, that you didn't always get along. And I want to know if those personal differences ever affected your working relationship.

No. The fact of the matter is that that Bob and I didn't really have any angry animosity, it's just that we went our separate ways for lots of personal reasons, and we just said, let's keep the work separate. And so it was sacrosanct. We'd walk into the studio, we'd walk into our offices (years later when we were working independently), and work came first. We didn't get into the personalities because there's always problems with personalities. So we just kept that out of the room and we would just be concerned with this is a stuffed teddy bear who was stuck in a hole or something. We didn't we didn't worry about ourselves. And it was very clever to do that because, when we first began, I mean, you saw the thing, our dad put us together. Our dad said, you know, together you'll be strong. If you separate and start figuring out who's going to do what and who did what and why did you do this? You're going to have battles and you're going to never succeed. You have to think about the fact that your success will hold you together. And that's exactly what happened. We were very successful. And so that held us together. And that was like an understanding. We said, let's not get anything in the way of our work, our character, what we do as writers. And so our personality and our personal bits are private. Frankly, my son and my nephew who did that... I said, I don't want to get into our personal stuff. It's nobody's business. And, we kept it private. We always did. So, the fact that they said was that. But that was the amazing part about it because we did overcome that. So I said, well, you guys are making your picture, so go ahead and make your picture. But basically, I don't think it was necessary to tell all that, but it never would have been made if they didn't have a hook. And you're a writer, you know what it is, you have to have that little hook to grab people, to make them-- that headline, that, that opening sentence, to grab hold of their interest. And they had this thing about the two brothers who really went separate ways. But we always worked together well.

The last Disney project you and Robert officially worked on, I guess, was The Tigger Movie. Is that correct?

Yeah, I think so.

Would you like to do any more with him?

Well, you know, if it came up. Bob lives in London now and he's off in his own world. He paints and he does his own thing, and I'm happy, I'm doing my own thing, independently. So I'm happy. I just did a picture a couple of years ago called Iron Man 2. I wrote a special song for it, and it was Make Way for Tomorrow Today. And I do a lot of instrumentals. I created a lot of instrumental music that's been published. So I'm very pleased with what I'm doing. And Bob's happy with how he's doing. And we're we have our career, which is, we're both proud of. So, you know...

I did like that, piano work that you play early on in the documentary in The Boys as well. The solo piano...

Oh, yeah. Well, there's about six of my pieces in there where I play piano. Actually, my son Greg is the one that said, “Hey Dad, can you record some of these things? I think they're great. I could use them and background fillers and stuff like that behind some of the sequences,” and so, sure! And that one that I play in person in the very beginning is, it was just an Improvisation we had been talking about the years gone by and, and what we had been doing, and I just got nostalgic and I came up with his piece and he said, great. So that was one of the pieces that this record producer fell in love with, and he had collected 15 of my pieces that I had written, and I recorded them. And, it's out on an album called Forgotten Dreams. It's the things that I've written over the years that I never did anything with.

What do you think of the, for example, Mary Poppins, some of the interpretations that have been done of the songs over the years. What are some of your favorites? I know that, I'm a big jazz nut, and so I really wigged out and loved hearing John Coltrane do Chim Chim Cher-ee, for example.

Oh, did you ever did you ever hear the entire album that Duke Ellington did with... oh my God, it's fantastic. It's on Reprise Records, and I think it's out on CD. It's an incredible jazz interpretation. Every number in Poppins, they are just wonderful.  I think Count Basie did an entire album on The Happiest Millionaire. I'm trying to think we got a lot of people that did jazz versions of my music. The Coltrane is fantastic because everything he plays is great! First of all, it's very flattering to have these greats, interpret your music. I mean, that's number one. And number two is it's also fascinating to hear how they were inspired to play with it. Because it's a theme and variations, really. They take your music and then they interpret it in their own language. And it's amazing. I've been very lucky to get a rather wonderful array of jazz artists who've done our stuff.

Do you still play any of the songs from Mary Poppins for yourself or to remember Walt Disney?

Oh, sure! I do a lot of fundraisers. I play them all the time for people. They love to hear it! In my croaky voice I sing them and they love it, you know? So I'm happy to do it. I do a fundraiser now and again for, you know, for AIDS and things like that. And it's a nice thing to be able to play them. And people like to hear the original, the version done by the writers, you know. So that's kind of fun. And I've always been the interpreter of our songs. I was always the musical one who played. So, you know, that was it.

Oh, man. Well, this that's a great place to, I guess in the official part of the interview. So thank you so much, Richard Sherman. I really appreciate it.

Thank you! You sound like a very nice young man. I hope I'll meet you one day.

[finallydelight]

waiiitt i have an idea for maya and jk 🥹🥺🥺 remember the clip about the perilla leaf debate and jk was so adamant saying he doesn't like it because the next thing they're holding hands and get married, like that jealous kook but with maya 🥲

alright I’m not even kidding- literally this morning I got a clip of this randomly on my fyp page and I had an idea in my head on what I wanted to do with that. like this is so creepy honestly, I love u for this 💗

THE PERILLA LEAF | Maya

April, 2022

''Jungkook, don't call her.'' Namjoon protested as the youngest pulled out his phone from his pocket to call up his girlfriend. ''Yeah, she probably has better things to do.'' Yoongi added, although he was amused by the entire debate. 

Jungkook shook his head as he pulled up her contact and dialled her number. ''No, I'm gonna call her and you're going to see that I'm right.'' To say he was a stubborn man, might be an understatement. 

''Hello?'' 

His agitated voice immediately replaced with a soft one as Jieun picked up. ''Yeobo, have you heard about the perilla leaf debate?'' He asked her, looking confidently at his members. 

''Yeah, Chaengie said something about it, I think. Isn't it whether it's okay for your partner to help your friend peel off their perilla leaf?'' Chaeyoung had mentioned this thing once to her during practice. 

Upon her answer, Jungkook put her on speaker phone so his members could listen to the conversation. ''Yes, that's it! What do you think about it? Do you think it's okay for your partner to help or not?'' He looked at his members with full self-assurance, he was confident Jieun would agree with him that it was not okay for your partner to help. 

''I don't care to be honest, it's a stupid leaf.'' 

The confident grin on Jungkook's face was wiped off within seconds of hearing her words. Meanwhile, the rest of the Bangtan group were laughing their asses off, except Taehyung because he shared the same opinion as Jungkook. ''Yeobo!'' 

''Jungkook, did you put me on speaker?'' She could barely hear her boyfriend as the laughter that was happening around him was getting too loud. 

He nodded, but realised he couldn't see her. ''Yes! Are you actually serious? So if I helped your friend with separating the leaves, you would just be fine with it?'' Jungkook couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

''Yes, why would that be such a big deal? It's a nice gesture.'' Jieun didn't see the fuss about the whole debate, she wouldn't mind Jungkook helping one of her friends out. 

''Why is that such a big deal? Come on! That's a marriage waiting to happen!'' His frustrations were of huge amusement to the men around him, Hobi laying on the floor holding his stomach. 

Jieun rolled her eyes when he mentioned the marriage. ''So what you're saying is that when we're out with one of your friends, Taehyung-oppa for example, I wouldn't be allowed to help him because you think that is cheating?'' She hoped her words would make him realise how truly stupid he sounded in her mind right now. 

''Is this your way of telling me you want to marry Tae?'' Jungkook was flabbergasted and his members had enough. Jin pulled the phone from Jungkook's hands. ''Jieun-ah, please don't listen to him, he's being a child again.'' 

''We're sorry for bothering you.'' Namjoon told her, knowing how the Twice girls always have packed schedules. ''It's alright, I was just waiting to record some songs.'' She was relieved no one was around in the waiting room, because her confused face must have looked ridiculous to the outside world. 

''I'm gonna hang up now, we have to continue filming.'' Jungkook's voice was heard again through the phone. ''Okay, I'll talk to you later, Guk.'' She sighed, she already knew he wasn't going to let this go for a long time. 

Seeing his defeated expression, Jimin decided to add some fuel to the fire. ''Bye Jieunie, if you ever want to go and eat perilla leaves with someone, I'm always availab-'' She didn't hear the rest of Jimin's sentence as the line was cut off, by who she assumed was Jungkook. 

''Hyung, don't talk to my girlfriend like that.'' Jungkook told Jimin, putting his phone away and walking back to his seat. ''I was just teasing, Jungkookie, your face was priceless.'' Jimin couldn't help but keep laughing at the entire situation. 

''Guys, let's continue filming, we're holding the staff up.'' Namjoon said, although he had a hard time to not start laughing at Jungkook's behaviour. Taehyung couldn't help but throw one last little dig. 

''Jungkook, what kind of ring do you think Jieun likes?'' 

''JUNGKOOK PUT THAT DOWN!'' 

Taglist: @stopeatread @sakuurra @seongwhaffels @cosmicwintr

[alotofpockets]

Welcome home | Florence Pugh

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Prompt: “Welcome home.”

Masterlist | requests: closed | words: 900

Tonight, Florence would come back home from her two month trip through Europe. While filming Black Widow they had to move all over the place, Norway, Budapest, England and Italy. Usually when Florence had to move somewhere for a while you joined her, but with the number of locations the crew didn't allow it.

Two months was a long time to miss your wife. Luckily you got to call her almost every day, though with the time difference sometimes it wasn't long enough for either of your liking.

But today was the day you would be reunited with her, and you planned to make it an extra special night. Knowing Florence would be tired from the flight, you decided on a blanket fort in the living room and ordering in her favorite food.

Your first to do for the day was get some necessities the store. You picked up an air mattress, so you'd be able to sleep in the fort as well. You picked up some of Flo's favorite snacks, a welcome home banner and a bouquet of flowers.

The second to do was to set everything up. First you place the flowers in a vase on the dining table and hung up the 'welcome home' banner above it. Then, you blew up the air mattress and pushed it up against the couch, that way you'd have a nice backrest too. You put on some bedding and throw pillows, before moving on to creating the fort with blankets.

You're finishing up some last details when your alarm goes off, telling you that you need to head to the airport to pick up your wife. Butterflies filled your stomach just thinking about her being in your arms again.

Last week you had made a poster, which you were going to hold up at the gate. On Florence her arrival to the first country in Europe she had called you and mentioned how dull the signs were that the hired taxi drivers had. Just a piece of white paper with her name on it. In that exact moment you decided that you would make a sign that would make her smile.

When Florence got to the gate her eyes landed on the most colorful sign of all, and when she realized the sign was with her name on it she got teary eyed and ran into your arms. "I missed you so much." Florence whispers in your ear. You tighten your hug slightly when you tell her you missed her a lot too.

You took her hand and used your other to push her cart of luggage to head to the car. At the car you open the door for her and tell her to relax, while you put the luggage into the car.

When you open the trunk of your car you hear her talk on the phone. "Hi mom, I just wanted to let you know that I'm back home." You smile at how family orientated she is, a trait you loved dearly. You continue loading her stuff into the car as you listen to her end of the conversation. "Yeah, y/n picked me up, she's the best, she's even putting all my luggage in the car as we speak." Then a moment of silence as Deborah talks. "Yes mom, I will thank her for doing that and tell her I love her." Florence looks back at you with a smile as she's met with your amused eyes.

Once you get into the car, and Florence hangs up the phone you say, "Your mom sure wants you to be nice to me." With a wink, making Flo laugh. "Oh shush, you know my mom loves you and will kill me if I don't treat you right."

Florence leans in to kiss you, "Thank you baby, for always being so kind. I love you very much." After kissing her back you say, "Always, and I love you very much too. Now let's get you home." With that you start the car.

At home you put all the luggage next to the door, for later, so you can enjoy the moment now and Florence can relax. "Welcome home, I have a surprise for you." You say hugging her from behind and placing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

You lead her to the open floor dining room and living room and wait for her reaction. Her mouth falls open at the blanket fort enchanted by fairy lights. "Wow love, this looks incredible!"

"I thought we could spend the evening here, catch up on things, possibly watch a movie if you'd like and we can spend the night in there as well. But first, how about you freshen up from your flight and I will order us some food and change into something comfy?" Florence turns around in your hold, "That sounds perfect." She says before kissing you.

The food arrives shortly, and you take it into the fort with you. You enjoy your meal while hearing all about Florence her stories about Europe. And of course, she wants to hear more about your two months as well. It was wonderful getting so much time together again, you talked until you were both getting tired. Luckily you planned for this with the air mattress, so you feel asleep in the fairy light lit blanket fort, happy to be holding each other again.

~

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