#// i've never cringed so hard in my life

[cosmogyros]

It is fucking wild how many people will love you and dote on you until the very first time you set a boundary and tell them you're not okay with something they did, and then BLAM the door slams shut in your face

[cyberpunkboytoy]

I want to show off Ryona Orchid again. Because I love her.

[artficlly]

read between the lines [one-shot]

college marvel au frat!jock!bucky x cheerleader!reader tutoring bucky barnes was already distracting enough, but leaving your diary in his room? that is a whole new problem.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, tutoring, first kiss, college au, vague panic from reader, idk it's just kinda fun and cute :), no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: hi this was for a request! so so cute, i wrote this so fast i didn't even think i would have it ready to post so quickly. idk anything about cheerleading or how college works in america, so forgive me. inspired by that willow song! sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist

I’ve been tutoring Bucky.

Well, James, technically. But he goes by Bucky. Says it’s a childhood nickname and it just stuck, and honestly? That’s kind of adorable. Like, who clings to a nickname that hard? Even the professors call him that, which should be cringe, but somehow it’s not? It just suits him. I literally don’t think I could call him James even if I tried. ‘Bucky’ feels right. It sounds warm. Familiar. Stupidly charming.

Ugh. Anyway.

He’s in one of those frats I usually stay far away from. The kind that smells like cheap beer and Axe body spray. Always yelling, always playing music way too loud, always shirtless for no reason. I swore I’d never waste my time on a guy like that. I really thought he was gonna be a cocky, arrogant douche when I first got assigned to tutor him.

But he’s not. Like… at all?

He’s actually really nice. Like, unfairly nice. That casual kind of nice that makes you forget you’re supposed to be annoyed. He remembers stuff I say. Not the big stuff, the tiny stuff. Like how I chew my pen when I’m stressed, or how I like lemon Gatorade for cheerleading practice. And yesterday he brought me those sour gummy worms I mentioned ONE time. Just handed them over all casual like, ‘Thought you might want a little sugar after practice.’ Who does that?? Like… stop. That’s not fair.

But of course, he’s like that with everyone. That’s the worst part. He’s charming in this totally effortless way. Looks at you like you’re the most interesting person alive and then turns around and does the exact same thing to someone else. How am I supposed to know what’s real?

And GOD. He’s hot. Like, it’s actually rude. He laughs and it does something to me. Like full-on makes my brain stop working. And his ARMS?? Every time he pushes his sleeves up to his elbows I lose one year off my life. For real. It’s like he’s doing it on purpose. (I mean, he’s not, but like… what if he is???) Sometimes I forget what I’m even explaining because he’s just sitting there smiling at me with those eyes and that stupid little smirk and suddenly I’m thinking about kissing him instead of confidence intervals. It’s not okay.

He’s on the football team. Scholarship guy. Big deal. Girls are obsessed with him. I’ve literally heard people talk about him in the locker room like he’s a celebrity. And me? I’m just… I don’t know. I’m me. I cheer and I study and I try not to let my GPA fall apart and I pretend I’m not crushing on someone completely out of my league.

So no. I’m not gonna say anything.

Because maybe I did catch him looking at me the other day when I tied my hair up. Maybe he does stay a little longer when we’re done. Maybe he leans in a little closer than necessary. But maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe I want it too bad and I’m just reading into everything. I don’t want to be that girl. I don’t want to get hurt.

So I’m gonna do what I’m supposed to do. Help him pass stats. Smile when he brings me candy. Laugh at his dumb jokes. Pretend like my heart doesn’t skip a beat every time he says my name.

I’m just going to help him pass stats. That’s all this is. Right? God, I’m so dumb.

—

You were fucked. Well and truly screwed.

You couldn’t even focus during practice. Missed counts, off-beat claps, a completely botched dismount that nearly took you and the poor girl spotting you both out in one go. Natasha pulled you aside with that look—the one that said she was two seconds away from losing it—and muttered something about getting your shit together because the big game was in a week and this wasn’t the time to be spacing out.

But how were you supposed to focus? Your diary was missing.

Your actual, physical, spiral-bound diary filled with every unfiltered thought you’d been too scared to say out loud. The same one where you’d spent the last four pages gushing about Bucky freaking Barnes like some sad, delusional teenage cliché. You didn’t even want to think about what you wrote last night, something about his arms and the way he smiles and how you swore he looked at you differently when you tied your hair up. It was humiliating.

You never should’ve taken it out of your room. You knew it was a bad idea. But Yelena had been on one of her ‘I’m bored and nosy’ benders, and the last time you left anything out, she’d read your old poetry journal and quoted it back to you at breakfast. You weren’t about to risk that again. So, like a total idiot, you shoved your diary in your bag before heading to class, thinking you’d keep it safe with you.

The entire day had been chaos. You barely managed to scarf down lunch between lectures, and by the time your 3 p.m. class let out, you were already sprinting across campus to make it to Bucky’s place for tutoring. Not that you actually got much tutoring done. You never did, not when he looked at you with that stupid, easy grin, or leaned back in his chair like he owned the air around him. One second you were going over statistical formulas, and the next you were talking about childhood pets and favourite movies, laughing like you hadn’t just been drowning in assignments ten minutes earlier. Time always slipped away around him. You ended up bolting to cheer practice.

It wasn’t until hours later, back in your dorm with your bag dumped upside down on the floor, that you realised your diary was missing. Your diary. 

You’d spent a solid hour panicking, then a full thirty minutes rummaging through the lost and found at the campus security office, practically elbow-deep in a box of mismatched gloves and cracked phone cases. The guy behind the desk eventually looked up from his screen, where he was rather obviously playing solitaire, and told you with the energy of someone who very much did not care that maybe it hadn’t been handed in.

You wanted to scream.

Now your most personal, most mortifying thoughts were just out there. Floating around. God only knew where or with who. And sure, maybe whoever found it wouldn’t read it. Maybe they’d be a decent human being and just turn it in without flipping through. But let’s be honest, if you found a diary with someone’s deepest secrets in it, you’d probably peek too.

You were going to be sick. Actually sick. And not because Natasha had you running suicides again like she was training you for the NFL, but because your life might genuinely be over. Because if he found it? What if you left it in his room? What if Bucky read even one word of what you wrote?

You didn’t even want to finish that thought.

No, you literally couldn’t even finish that thought because, as Natasha finally called for the end of the session and the team began their warm-down stretches, swapping tired smiles and gulping down water, you saw him.

Bucky.

Standing at the edge of the field in that stupid grey hoodie, sleeves pushed up, all smug and handsome like he hadn’t just shown up to ruin your entire existence. He had that lazy, charming smile on his face, the one that made people trust him too fast, the one that made you trust him too fast, and in his hand?

Glittery blue cover. Spiral binding. Your diary.

You were going to throw up. No, genuinely, you could feel your stomach lurch. This was it. This was how you died. Not in a blaze of glory or during a botched basket toss, but here, sweaty, humiliated, and on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the middle of the goddamn football field.

You didn’t even think. You just stormed over before anyone else could notice, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind the bleachers like it was a crime scene. Which it kind of was. A crime against your dignity.

Bucky didn’t protest. He followed easily, letting you pull him along like it was some sort of game. Of course he did. And of course, he was smiling the whole time, like you hadn’t just gone into cardiac arrest ten feet away.

Your heart was pounding so hard you could barely speak. It rattled in your chest like a warning, like it knew this moment was about to go down in your personal hall of shame.

“Where…how…why do you have that?” you hissed, snatching at the diary, but he held it just out of reach, still annoyingly calm.

He raised a brow, like you’d just asked him what two plus two was. “You left it at my place. After tutoring. You were in a rush, remember?”

No. No, no, no, no, no. Of course, it had been his place. Of course.

“I—I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t thinking, I just—” You were spiralling, words tumbling out too fast, too breathless, and your fingers were twitching like you might just snatch the book and sprint across campus. “Did you…Did you read it?”

A beat. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you.

And then, God, he smiled. Not the cocky one, not the football-star grin. This one was softer. Slower. Dangerous.

Your stomach dropped.

“I read enough,” he said.

You froze.

Your ears rang. Your mouth went dry. Your body just stopped.

“Enough?” you echoed, voice cracking halfway through. “Enough of what? Enough to—oh my God.”

You turned away instinctively, hand over your mouth like that could somehow keep your soul from escaping your body. Because what did that mean? What was ‘enough?’ Enough to ruin your life? Enough to laugh about it with his frat brothers? Enough to tell every girl on campus that the cheerleader who couldn’t even stick a full-out had a crush on him?

You didn’t even realise you were pacing until Bucky gently caught your wrist.

“Hey. Relax,” he said, and his voice was way too steady for someone holding the social equivalent of a loaded weapon.

You yanked your arm back like his touch burned. “Relax? Bucky, that was private. It’s literally a diary! It’s not for reading, it's for… spiralling in silence!”

He tilted his head a little, watching you carefully, and if he was offended by your panic, he didn’t show it. “You left it on my bed. Open.”

You groaned and covered your face with both hands. “Please. Just kill me. Right here. Hide the body under the bleachers. I’m serious.”

Bucky chuckled—chuckled, like this was some kind of joke—and stepped closer. You could feel his presence even before you lowered your hands again. 

“Why didn’t you just say something?” he asked, quiet now. “If you felt that way.”

Your eyes snapped to his. “Because I didn’t know if it meant anything! You’re nice to everyone. You flirt like it’s a reflex. You remember everyone’s drink orders, compliment their outfits, hold doors and say all the right things. I thought I was just another person you were… nice to.”

He didn’t answer your panicked rambling right away. Just looked at you for a long moment.

“Yeah, I’m nice to people. Doesn’t mean I feel the same way I feel about you.”

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

“What?” you whispered, hating how small your voice sounded.

He held your gaze, completely serious now.

“Like I wanna kiss you every time you chew that damn pen cap. Like, I think about you even when I’m supposed to be studying. Like I can’t focus when you’re talking ‘cause all I do is stare at your damn lips.” He paused, and something almost like a laugh broke out of him, soft and self-conscious. “Like I’ve been trying to find a not-creepy way to tell you I like you since the second tutoring started, but you were always so focused and cool and out of my league.”

That last part made your head spin.

“Out of your league?” you repeated, eyes wide.

He smirked, stepping just a bit closer, lowering his voice. “Have you seen yourself? You’re smart, you’re so pretty it’s ridiculous, and you’ve got this whole thing where you act like you don’t know you’re the coolest girl on campus. Of course, I was nervous.”

You blinked at him. “Bucky… are you flirting with me behind the bleachers while holding my diary hostage?”

He grinned. “Maybe. Depends. Is it working?”

You tried to snatch the diary out of his hand, but he was faster, effortlessly holding it just out of reach like it weighed nothing.

“God, I hate you,” you muttered through gritted teeth, bouncing up on your toes in a desperate attempt to grab it. All it earned you was the embarrassing realisation that you were now fully pressed against his chest, warm, broad, and stupidly solid.

“You really don’t, at least not according to this—” he said, low and smug.

“Bucky!” you warned, trying to reach again, but he shifted it higher.

“Give. It. Back,” you hissed, practically climbing him at this point.

“I will,” he said, eyes flicking down to your mouth in a way that made your stomach twist and your breath catch. “But only if you let me kiss you first.”

Your brain short-circuited. Completely and entirely. The words took a second to process. His voice had dropped, softer now, more serious, like he wasn’t just messing with you anymore.

You looked up at him, heart thudding so loudly against your ribs you swore he could hear it. His eyes searched yours, and for once, he didn’t look like the effortlessly confident guy everyone knew. He looked… nervous like he was the one waiting to be rejected.

“…Fine,” you whispered, the word barely making it past your lips, but your smile gave you away. It was impossible to hide, giddy and crooked and ridiculous.

And then he kissed you.

He bent his head and closed the gap like he’d been waiting weeks for it—maybe he had. His mouth was warm and sure against yours, one arm still holding the diary hostage, the other dropping to your waist, pulling you in like he couldn’t help himself. You kissed him back without thinking, without doubting, like maybe this was the answer you’d been afraid to ask for all along.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and blinking at each other like idiots, he handed over the diary with a grin.

“Okay,” you whispered, still a little breathless. “That was… good.”

“Just good?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning. “Don’t push it.”

He laughed softly, thumb still brushing your cheek. “So… does this mean I get to keep seeing you after stats is over? Or do I have to fail on purpose to keep you around?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You’re right. You’d probably kill me.”

“More like definitely.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward. He looked at you like he already knew what you were thinking. And for once, you didn’t feel like running from it.

You were so, so screwed.

But maybe… in the best way possible.

[aromantic-pantyanarchy]

It's me. I'm the cis, heterosexual, aromantic man. I will never marry, I will never be married, I will grow into middle age and elder age and I will die unmarried. I will be forced to support a household of myself on only my wages alone for the rest of my life. I will be asked about women and marriage and children by my family for the rest of my life (or men, the progressive ones might say). I may not ever come out to them. I feel like I burned my coming out on something stupid. I don't want to explain it. I don't want to run them through the definitions and intricacies. I don't want the acceptance without understanding, placating me with ceased questions and poor explanations to other, drunk adults.

I like my hair to be long, I spent a year with it dyed a golden blonde with dark roots because I like the trashy party girl aesthetic. I want to dye it again with pink tips. I like painting my nails, black and blue are my favorite colors. I like wearing chokers. I also like wearing baggy jeans and ratty hoodies. I like having stubble. I like having chest hair. I like having a square jaw and broad shoulders. I wish I had a flatter stomach and a thinner profile frame. I don't know what this makes me, perhaps this is something no more GNC than Machine Gun Kelly. I think about this a lot, how queer my appearance truly is. I should think about it less. I have thought long and hard about if I could be trans or if I could be non-binary or if I could be genderqueer and the conclusion I ultimately came to is that I most enjoy being a man open to whatever self-expression I want.

I don't date, but I've thought about it. I would like to meet people, and I would like to have sex with them. But I don't want to hurt them. I fear if I explain what I am beforehand it'll scare them away. I fear if I explain after they'll feel manipulated or abused. I don't know how many people in the dating scene want what I want. I fear my own lack of experience will make me a bad lay, an embarrassing story to tell to confidants in hindsight. I fear my own virginity, a boundary to those I wish to be like. All of these fears are baseless, as I've not been able to even begin a single relationship in my life. Despite this I still heavily identify with terms like "slut" and "manwhore" and "thot" because my interests lay so deeply within casual sex, sex without great intimacy or emotion. This may be some form of stolen valor. I hope the true sluts are not too mad at me.

I made this blog several years ago because a mutual of mine reblogged memes making fun of aro and ace people, making fun of the concept of aphobia, and in addition well known aphobes. I didn't feel comfortable talking about aro stuff on my main blog, for as little as I talk about it. Living through the ace discourse of the 2016 era has largely caused me to cringe in embarrassment any time I am forced to discuss my orientation with people who aren't aro or ace themselves. I no longer follow this person. I unfollowed many people I was mutuals with from that time, most of them because they posted too often about how much they hated men and I didn't want to see that, some because our interests simply drifted too far apart, only one for explicit aphobia reasons. (Also one because they became a "both sides are bad, any vote is wasted" libertarian, but that's unrelated.)

I guess at this point I don't care deeply about what strangers on the internet think of me. If a trusted friend told me that they don't think I'm truly queer that may hurt. But I am going to continue to use the word for myself. I take up no resources. I go to events that are open to me. If an event was not open to me, I think I'd not want to go anyways. I am not a hypothetical, I am not a strawman, I am a person with lived experiences both within and exterior to the queer community. If you hate me, I will permit you to continue to do so. But ultimately, I am who I am, I cannot change these facts, and I would not choose to do so even if I could.

[spideyjimin]

✨ my all time favourites BTS fics ✨

⟶ soo i've been really wanting to do this for a while already but i didn't really have the time to do it… soo here you have all the fics that I deeply loved & that i sometimes still read again 🫶🏼those fics are really amazing & thanks a lot to the writers for those masterpieces! 💞

sweet | ksj @oddinary4bts

⤷ Drabble of idol Jin coming back from the military and trying to sort out his situationship with the girl he left behind when he went into the military

idol!au, a bit of angst, fluff and smut

meraki | jjk @taegularities

⤷ Jungkook finds you irritating; far too energetic and insistent. But his perception of you changes bit by bit, minute by minute, when he's persuaded into spending an entire night with you at places he doesn't know.

e2l, grumpy!jk (+ photographer!jk) x sunshine!reader; fluff, smut

motherfuckin' train wreck | jjk @lovieku

⤷ when renowned fuckboy jeon jeongguk catches feelings, he loses his mind. only when it comes to you, though.

fwb au

new guy | knj @kithtaehyung

⤷ all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance, but the new guy is completing disrupting things... or is he?

smut ; university au ; enemies to lovers?

into it | pjm @xpeachesncream

⤷ helping your bestfriend out with his research project happens to come with more than what you bargained for. 

grad school au, idiots to lovers au, strangers to lovers au, angst, smut

bands | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 

strip club/nightlife au, post grad au, fluff, angst, smut

lowkey | jjk @xpeachesncream

⤷ in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

saudade | kth @chateautae

⤷ a demanding idol lifestyle was something taehyung and yourself were all too familiar with. it wasn’t so hard when considering your unconditional love for one another, but lately, taehyung wasn’t the same anymore; and you decide it’s time to find out why.

angst, smut, fluff (the holy trinity), idol!au, established relationship!au

100 km/hour | pjm @chateautae

⤷ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

college!au, smut, pwp

fine line | jjk @soobibabe

⤷ Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

romance

hazy hours | myg @borathae

⤷ part of the kinkoctober 2024

new relationship!AU, Idol!Yoongi

fxck a fxckboy | myg @yoongifis

⤷ where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left with dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.

smut, pwp

before we shatter | jjk @caramelkoo

⤷ dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

established relationship, idol!jungkook

warm nighs & clear lines | jjk @awrkive

⤷ there haven't been a lot of people who have come into your life that became important to you – and you didn’t expect jeon jungkook to be one if it – not at all. but what started as a casual relationship turned into more than that, and now you find yourself deeply in love with him – and happily so.

or; your first "i love you" comes out completely wrong.

SMUT, fluff

all your fault | jhs @minisugakoobies

⤷ It’s all Hobi’s fault!

smut, drabble, PWP, established relationship, non-Idol!AU

muscle memory | knj @taegularities

⤷ the weather outside might be trying to chill you to your bones, but watching Namjoon's seething hot presence work out is enough to melt every little piece of you - and he sees the longing in your eyes all too soon.

establish relationship; some fluff, mostly smut

magic stick | jjk @badbtssmut

⤷ Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

[lavottino]

Self-indulgent but mandatory "What if the strawhats were Italian" because it has been plaguing my mind for months.

I'm putting some context (and also some headcanons) for each drawing under the cut for anyone interested in better understanding what is going on, so expect a lot of yapping 😭

I think I will draw more Italian strawhats shenanigans in the future (I'm sorry for sidelining you like that Jinbe...), we'll see...

1. Italy is divided into 20 regions, and I associated the 10 strawhats to 10 of those regions. The regions I chose have been mainly picked on instinct based on whatever felt right to me, so I wouldn't look too hard into it 😭

2. Tortellini are a type of stuffed pasta specifically from the Emilia-Romagna region (where I see Robin coming from) and even more specifically from the Bologna and Modena provinces; while fiorentina is typically from Florence (Tuscany) and Luffy would eat at least 10 of them a day if he could

3. Alberto Angela is a paleontologist and history and science communicator, and he runs some TV programs that mainly focus on history and science. He's well-spoken, he's educated, developing a little crush for him is basically a canon event, he's the IT Italian man if you ask me. Robin is watching Ulisse - Il piacere della scoperta, which is also the TV program that introduced me to him when I was like 9 😌

4. Table football is quite common in Italy (all my life I've called it biliardino, but apparently its name is calciobalilla? whatever 😭). I don't really have a lot to say about this one, actually. I just think that a Zoro and Sanji team up would be unmatched (just like in animanga). Like 10-1 (AT BEST) kind of unmatched. If they receive a goal (which was definitely a fluke) they're going to mercilessly trash talk each other into scoring the most diabolically aggressive goal ever witnessed in the history of mankind (Chopper is scared of them) (Luffy thinks it's kinda funny) (Nami decided they won't play at the same time until they learn to chill out).

5. Paolo Fox is a famous astrologer in Italy and basically there used to be this Sunday TV program (Mezzogiorno in famiglia, they discontinued it some years ago but it's the show that Nami and Zoro are watching), where he was called in every week as a guest to rank the signs from 12th to 1st based on the luck, love, money etc. they were going to get during the following week. And whether you believed in astrology or not, you were still going to eat that shit up regardless because you just wanted to know where your sign was going to be placed.

6. Easter eggs in Italy are this big chocolate egg that contains a "surprise", which can be toys or various trinkets (bracelets, keychains, that kind of stuff). When Easter is coming, the supermarkets have full aisles of Easter eggs because there are multiple brands and multiple themes (for example, the ones specifically targeted towards children could be One Piece/Pokemon/Winx etc. themed, containing a surprise that is related to them). I like to think that Chopper would be so excited about the chocolate that he would eat it all without even looking at the surprise 😭 (it's lying somewhere on the ground, a forgotten soldier amidst the raging battle)

7. Neapolitan songs can go pretty hard when you don't have someone in your ear telling you how corny and cringe they are. Franky has a whole arsenal. If during a conversation he hears a word that reminds him of one of his songs, he will start singing it. Brook joins him whenever he hears him, and if he doesn't know the actual words to the song, he will still string together some notes with his guitar. Luffy and Usopp will join at a certain point, while the other strawhats enjoy the little show. If Franky is singing and Robin appears in his line of sight, he will switch to a romantic song and start serenading her. When this happens, Sanji joins too (not because he's trying to woo Robin, but because he will never miss a chance to serenade a woman 😌).

8. I just know Brook has en entire repertoire of love songs that he sings whenever Zoro and Sanji are fighting. In this case he is singing "Bello e impossibile" by Gianna Nannini, whose chorus goes something like "handsome, handsome and impossibile, with black eyes and your Middle Eastern taste" and then again "handsome, handsome and invincible, with black eyes and a kissable mouth/a mouth to be kissed" (it sounds more poetic in Italian I'm sorry 😭). They get mad and flustered every time. It doesn't matter if they are still dancing around each other or are already together. Brook has the time of his life.

[alienoresimagines-archive]

Just some words I've been needing to hear for a few weeks now and once I finally wrote them down, I thought maybe there were other people who might need to hear them too ❤️

You don't need to be anyone's favorite writer for your writing to be good.

The worth of your writing is not measured by whether or not you're included in fic recs or the amount of comments/asks you get.

Your works don't need to be recognized as some of The fics of the fandom to be good or worth reading.

'Popular' writers in your fandom are also just writers (and humans!!) : you don't need to impress or be noticed by them to have a place in your fandom. Fandom should be fun so don't let your brain ruin it with a misplaced sense of competition <3

You don't need to post a fic every week to be considered a writer. You don't need to write every week to be a writer. There is no limited places in fandom: come and go as you want and as life allows you to. Post when you feel like it, there is no trend to surf on to stay 'relevant' as a fic writer or a content creator. Fandom will always wait for you.

Your writing is good, and the more you write, the more you find your style, the better it gets.

Your writing made someone's day. Your writing is helping the fandom stay alive. Your writing should make you happy, and that happiness should not be proportional to how recognized you are in your fandom.

I know it can be discouraging to see tons of fic recs in your fandom and none of them including your fics. But yesterday, when I was feeling down, I re-read my own published works because they were the stories I wanted to read. And I enjoyed reading them, so much. And that is enough to keep me writing, because it showed me there is no better person to write the stories I have in my head than myself (a huge progress considering months ago, I couldn't reread something I'd written because I was cringeing too hard to get through two sentences).

Find your people that will always hype you and your fics up: you and your writing don't have to appeal to every single person in your fandom. Write niche fics! Rarepairs seemingly no one brought up before! Include headcanons and takes and interpretations you've never seen written before!

Write the stories you are dying to read, and I promise you, you'll find other people who were hoping to find that story somewhere, too.

Your writing is unique because it can only ever be yours and same goes for your stories; your writing is worth reading and your stories are worth being written <3

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes | The Barnes Family AU

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter three

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter two | chapter four

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, dry humping, eating pussy, fingering, pet names (slut, bitch, princess, etc.), bratty reader, cursing, mentions of murder - english isn't my first language.

~~~

one of your strengths, which others might consider a flaw, was definitely how easily you could ignore people. deep down, maybe you even loved this skill. when someone pissed you off or you just didn't feel like having a conversation with them, it was easy for you to distance yourself and pretend that person doesn't exist. it was really helpful in some situations.

for example, you've been avoiding chris for the last week. whenever you saw him in the hallway at college, you quickly disappeared into the crowd of people so that he wouldn't notice you. you both also didn't have any classes together, so that was also really helpful. there was no need to even try hard since you barely saw him and you were very happy with that.

you were sure everything would go back to normal. you didn't say anything about what you found out about him and you had no intention of doing so for the sake of your friends. if something went wrong and chris got caught, matt would unfortunately suffer the consequences too, which would break emma's heart, and you didn't want that.

so you stayed quiet.

you were also silent about what happened between you and chris. you didn't mention that kiss or... the rest, to anyone and that was definitely going to be your most hidden secret. you told yourself it wasn't important anyway. though the mixed feelings irritated you so much that you wanted to pull your hair out ten times a day.

forgetting the way his lips felt against yours was impossible, you couldn't shake the feeling no matter what. you even tried to wash it with your goddamn toothbrush.

what's worse, you were constantly turned on, which led to you snapping at people out of frustration. your friends were sure that what happened to jake was the reason for you to be acting like this, and it was incredibly convenient for you, so you let them think that, glad that you don't have to explain yourself.

"...and i hear that motherfucker saying the cringiest pick up line i've ever heard in my life. and i'm so sick and fuckin' tired of actually hearing all this bullshit, to be honest. i was ready to fucking slice my ears off, so i never have to hear someone speak to me again. i'm tired of these cringe men, holy fuck..."

constant giggles keep leaving your and emma's mouth as nick continues to rant on about his failed date last night. it was a peaceful sunday evening, all three of you sitting on the couch in your apartment.

"...like all i need is a body building, mud eating, disgusting straight looking man. do i ask for much?"

"nick—" you chuckle in disbelief, "that's insane."

"it's true though, like..." he sighs dramatically. you and emma give each other a look, "it's just a failed date, you'll find someone cool soon," emma says.

you add, "it's not like you need a man anyway."

"but it's good to have someone, the closeness and..." emma mumbles, causing nick to nudge her with his elbow. "girl, her ex just died, that's not..."

"oh, right," your bestfriend covers her mouth, both of them looking at you intensely now, while you just shake your head in disbelief, holding back a laugh really bad. you didn't want your friends to think you really are a heartless bitch, still not telling them that you don't care about jake's death.

so you ask instead, "can we not talk about that?" both of them immediately agreeing and changing the topic.

"i have no clue what to wear to that costume party," emma says, your attention now caught. nick replies, "i'm going as fred from scooby doo, y'know the spo—"

"what party?" you frown. their heads turns towards you immediately, "girl what do you mean 'what party'? alice's birthday themed party? at the frat? everyone must dress up."

"you forgot about the party?" emma raises her eyebrow and that's when you remember that this is this weekend.

alice was a random girl from your class, she was pretty popular, everyone loved her. it's not like she was your friend, but she was always nice and definitely doing the best parties. her and one of the frat guys were together so they were throwing her birthday party in a frat house. and she clearly wanted everyone to dress up, this girl loved halloween and even if it was almost christmas, she clearly still lived in october.

you aren't a person to forget about a party, but this time you simply did, since for the past week all you could think about was chris, whether you liked it or not.

"oh, no, i remember, i just didn't think it's this friday."

nick takes a sip of his soda, "yeah, you got a lot on your mind." you can easily tell the reference to jake's death. though you prefered this than for them to know about you and chris kissing. "do you know what you're gonna dress up as?" emma asks, but you just shake your head.

"i didn't think of that yet."

emma nods, "i'd love to match with you, but i already told matt we were gonna do that." you wave your hand dismissively, "it's fine, don't worry."

"you could pull on elena gilbert really good," emma scans your face and body, then looking at nick with raised eyebrow.

"girl who? her as elena? this girl is fucking katherine."

"oh, spare me, i've never seen this show!"

nick scoffs, "me neither and i know she's definitely katherine."

the rest of their words gets blurry, while your mind wanders somewhere else. the party being at the frat house is very inconvenient for you, since chris will obviously be there. the possibility of you seeing him is bigger than you'd like. you even start to think about reasons why you'd just simply not go without arousing suspicion, but you haven't found any. you never say no to a good party, unfortunately. however, you really didn't want to see chris with that stupid smirk of his on those stupid, pretty, pink, soft li-

"hello?" your bestfriend snaps her fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to earth. "are you listening?"

"huh?" you ask stupidly, blinking in a confusion. emma rolls her eyes, "i asked who do you think is right, but i see you aren't clearly with us here."

the irritation you feel is definitely completely unreasonable here and you know it, but the constant frustration you feel and the fact that you can't get that kiss out of your head, makes even the smallest things pissing you off. so you say something that you know will make emma feel guilty, but at least take attention away from you.

"oh, sorry i can't focus on anything, my ex got killed literally a week ago."

the silence that fills the room makes you regret that you had even said that. "damnnn..." nick looks between you and emma and leans over to put his soda on the coffee table.

you sigh, rubbing your temples, "forget it, is just... i don't really care about that party right now." your bestfriend nods and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. your throat was feeling dry, the overwhelming feeling growing more and more each second.

"you drinking it?" you ask nick, pointing at the dr.pepper. he shakes his head and grabs the can again, giving it to you, "nah, you can have it."

"thanks, chris."

the room remains silent once again, but this time it's heavier as both sets of eyes look at you in confusion. your heart speed up, a wave of heat washes over you. there's no way you said his name. you'd vanish into thin air if you could.

"nick. thanks," you corrected yourself, hiding the panic in your voice and taking a big sip of the soda, kind of wanting to choke and die, that's how embarrassed you were.

"did you call me chris?" nick asks, raising his eyebrows. emma adds, "i did hear chris..."

"i misspelled," you mutter, feeling your palms starting to sweat. "it's 'cause i'm annoyed and he always annoy me so i associate this feeling with him and that's all."

that was such a bad explanation, but you couldn't think of anything else with both of your friends eyes locked on you intensely.

"that's interesting that you're misspelling me with him, when he just asked me yesterday 'bout you."

this time you nearly actually choke on that drink after hearing nick's words. you cough a few times, your eyes watering, "he what?"

"he asked about you."

"really?"

"no, i'm just messing with you," nick smirks, watching you closely. "wanted to see your reaction."

you narrow your eyes at him, "not funny at all."

"funny to me," he replies. "you got a little excited?"

"no? why the fuck would i?"

you couldn't lie that the thought of chris asking about you made you feel something strange, but nick was really just teasing you. now you felt stupid.

"i don't know, maybe you tell me, 'cause there's clearly something up with you."

warmth washes over you immediately, you would like to melt off the face of the earth if you were able to. you couldn't tell them what you found out or what had happened between chris and you. there was no way you can get out of this situation.

"well..." you clear your throat. "nothing is up with me. we had like another dumb argument, he pissed me off really bad this time so as i said, i'm annoyed and that feeling reminds me of him."

"god, you two are like little kids," emma speaks up. "it's been years and you keep fighting with each other."

"not my fault he's stupid," you cross your arms over your chest.

nick sighs, buying your explanation, which made you a bit relaxed, "he's not that bad, you two are just insane."

"he's fucked up."

"you just didn't have the chance to know him closer."

"he never gave me one."

"did you try?" nick questioned, raising his eyebrow.

you scoff offended, "of course i did, nick."

"i'm not talking about the first time you met us," he says. "he's always distant at first, but if you two actually had a normal conversation and not decided that you dislike each other since the very beginning, everything would be different."

emma agrees, "it's a bit tiring hearing your arguments all the time."

you felt that irritation growing inside you again at their words. they didn't understand. nick was chris's brother, and emma was his other brother's girlfriend, which made the communication with chris easier for the both of them. however, for some reason, you felt from the beginning that chris couldn't stand you, and you were a person who didn't let anyone disrespect you, so these arguments were on the agenda from the very beginning and it was hard to somehow change it.

"whatever. can we not talk about chris?"

they both eventually agree, which makes you relieved, since talking about him definitely didn't help you in trying to forget about the kiss.

—

a few hours later, lying in bed alone at night, you couldn't sleep. not only did you think about chris being a ghostface killer, but also about what happened before the kiss. the fact that chris was aware that he made you wet, was constantly causing your stomach twist in every direction. never before has anyone made you horny so quickly and so much like he did. and the question he would ask you, if it was the knife, the mask or him that turned you on. the more you thought about it, the more you were sure it was everything.

you had to admit that when he moved your hair out of your face and neck with his knife, or ran it down your stomach, that was when you wanted to throw yourself at him more than ever. you had intrusive thoughts about chris before, sometimes when you were alone, desperate at night and you weren't able to come, he appeared in your mind, which always helped you to get off. you were always embarrassed afterwards, promising yourself that it would never happen again, but it did every now and then.

also the fact that you knew that you had made him hard made you shiver. you would never think that you can affect chris like that. well, he was a man after all, he also was known by hooking up with every girl at campus constantly, so it shouldn't be that shocking to you. it's probably not even the fact that it was you, he for sure reacts like this to other girls too. still you can't help but wonder, would have happened if you hadn't come to your senses in time?

you groan painfully, hiding your face in your hands and trying to ignore the growing heat between your legs. it was like this every single night since you and him kissed.

you're pulled from your thoughts by the faint sound of something being thrown at your window. you freeze in place, listening and hearing another faint thump, as if someone was throwing pebbles at your window. confused, you get up and walk over there, slowly opening the blinds.

it was so dark you barely could see anything, but then you notice a tall figure, dressed all in dark, but thanks to the street lamp you could see half of his face hidden by the shadow provided by the hood he was wearing.

your heart rate immediately speeds up.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you ask in a hushed voice, your tone rough, as you open the window and stick your head out.

chris stops his hand mid-swing, seeing you. he smirks, "i knocked on your door, but you weren't answerin', so i assumed you either ignorin' me or sleepin'."

this was a little concerning, apparently you were so lost in thought, you simply didn't hear anything. "so you decided to break my window?!"

"it'd be impossible with these," he swings again and another pebble flew towards you but hit the wall next to the window. you dodged anyway, his smirk widening at your reaction.

annoyed, you push your hair out of your face and look at him again, "are you normal?!"

"chill a little, would ya?" he rolls his eyes at the dramatics. "open the door."

"for what?" a crease appears between your eyebrows.

"talk," chris answers simply, causing the nervousness grow within you.

"it's almost one in the morning, i have classes tomorrow."

"do i look like i give a fuck?"

suddenly it felt like the last week of you trying to ignore him never happened. you were talking to him again and the thoughts you'd have a few minutes ago and every night for the last few days intensified. you were afraid that if you let him into your apartment, you would lose control, so you shake your head, "i'm not letting you in. go back to the frat."

"you ain't my mom to tell me what to do," he rolls his eyes. "stop being complicated and open the door."

"no, chris. now i'm going back to bed, so go away," you say, ready to end the interaction here. then you add, "and stop throwing shit at my window."

with that you do as you said, closing the window and disappearing from his sight, returning to the bed. you sigh, putting your head in your hands. you were curious about what he wanted, but you also felt that you did the right thing. he was messing with your head.

not even a minute later you hear a slight noise outside your window. you hear a knock and after turning around you see chris. you jump out of bed and open the window, seeing him holding on to the gutter.

"what in the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"move," he just says out of breath and starts climbing onto your windowsill, swinging one leg over it and then the other, forcing you to take a step back. he gets into your room, almost falling to the floor as he does so, but catching his balance at the last moment.

chris straightens his clothes, pulling his hood off his head and running a hand through his hair, meeting your shocked gaze. "what? could've been easier if you jus' opened the fuckin' door, y'know."

your expression so shocked that he literally climbed up the gutter to enter your room, that it made him roll his eyes again. you lived on the second floor so it wasn't very high but still, it was crazy.

"this is like an invasion of privacy," you say crossing your arms, only now realizing that your pajama shorts and thin crop top aren't covering much. chris noticed it too, his eyes sparkling.

he scoffs, closing the window, then shamelessly taking in your appearance, "i told you to let me in, didn't i?"

"and i told you no," you notice his slightly red eyes. "are you high?"

"nah, m'chris," he mumbles and walks around your room, acting as if he wasn't here just a week ago.

the smile that appears on your face shocks even you and you have to cover your mouth with your hand, holding back a laugh.

"sooo...?" you lean against your desk, watching him moving around. "what do you want?"

"yeah, right," he takes one of the photos of you and nick and looks at it, then puts it down and turns to look at you. "do you have to be so annoyin'?"

"huh?" you raise your eyebrows.

"for literally no reason, i can't get that kiss outta my head," chris admits, licking his lips. the annoyance flashes in his eyes, "which is crazy, 'cause m'not some fuckin' virgin to be actin' like it was my first one."

silence falls for a moment, you think he looks very pretty with your bedside lamp dimly illuminating your room and shining on his face. then he continues, "what did you tell nick? m'chillin' with him in my room and then he asks me 'bout some dumb shit, being all like 'why won't you just try to talk to her like a normal person'?" chris mocks his brother's voice. "kid pisses me off, like..."

"wait what?" you pull yourself off the desk, taking a step closer, with confusion written all over your face.

panic washes over you at the thought of nick telling chris that you by accident mixed up their names.

"yeah, like, bro's outta pocket askin' me that," he rolls his eyes. "don't think anythin', m'not talkin' about you or whatever, he brought that up."

"did you ask him what he meant?"

"he said we fight too much blah, blah, and apparently he was with you earlier today, so i guess you told him somethin', since he never acted like this before."

chewing on your bottom lip nervously, which causes chris's attention, you answer, "i didn't say anything, i don't know what he's on about."

he scans your face suspiciously, but nods, then pulling out the mask from the large pocket of his hoodie. your eyes widen, as he asks, "what 'bout this?"

"you're carrying it around in your pocket?!"

chris gives you a glare, "you think i'm stupid? obviously not, just this one time."

"and for what exactly?"

"i asked you a question first."

"i didn't tell nick about this, if that's what you're asking."

"good. keep that pretty mouth shut," his eyes travel down and up your body again, your breath hitching in your throat. he was not helping the situation you were in for the past week. "maybe you're not as stupid as i thought after all."

"oh, thanks," you respond sarcastically, with an eye roll.

he smirks and puts the mask on, immediately making your breathing quicken, "boo."

the things you feel in that moment are so strong and conflicted that it makes your head spin. you swallow, trying to ignore what was happening between your legs, "wow, you're hilarious, really."

"i know, right?" his smirk widen under the mask, as he watches you going to sit on your bed, clearly avoiding looking at him. "i should start callin' you boo, since you're clearly too scared to look at me."

"i'm not scared at all?" you grimace as he stands right in front of you, so you have to look up at him. "can you stop goofing around and take this off? and actually go, if that's all you've wanted."

"nah, i might stay a lil' bit," he flops down onto your bed, pulling the mask off his face. "wasn't climbing through your window to be here for ten minutes and go, y'know."

"no one told you to do that?"

"you didn't wanna open the door f'me, so..." he plays with the mask. you sigh annoyed, standing up. you just needed to do something, before you lose your goddamn mind.

you had to make him leave fast.

"well, last time i didn't open it either and somehow you got inside."

chris grins, watching you and clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "yeah, next time you're out of the house, close that window."

"thanks, now i'll remember," you answer sarcastically, as he sits up.

"you movin' around as you had some worms in your ass."

the stare you give him makes him smirk more. chris was really enjoying this actually, the weed in his system also making everything even better.

"god, stop smiling and get out of my bed," finally getting fed up, you walk over to him, grabbing his arm and trying to get him to stand up and leave you alone.

but he doesn't even move an inch so you finally give up and sigh in irritation, snatching the mask from his hand. "you can put it on, y'know," he says, "bet you're curious."

you ignore him, asking, "can you just go already?"

"take that stick outta your ass and chill," he rolls his eyes and stands up. "i'll go if you put this on."

"stop talking about my ass," you grimace. your eyes move down to the mask in your hand, then back to him. chris grins, waiting impatiently, "c'mon, it won't bite."

you don't understand why he wants you to put it on so badly, but you were actually curious, so you go to the mirror and do it. your hair is sticking out from under the ghostface mask, but you almost feel like other person. it was such a strange feeling.

chris stands behind you, heat radiating from his body, his eyes scanning you in the mirror. the sight of you in that barely-covering pajamas and his mask twisted his stomach into knots.

"see? feels different, doesn't it?" his voice hoarse with desire, goosebumps appearing on your skin. you nod in response, his hands finding your hips and pressing your back against his chest, causing your mind to spin at the sudden touch.

before you can say anything he turns you around him, pulling the mask off your face and tossing it to the side. the room suddenly becomes tighter, the air heavier, and you both feel the same tension you felt a week ago before the kiss.

"i did what you wanted," you speak up, holding his gaze. "now you should go..."

he nods, not moving even an inch, "yeah. i should."

for a moment you both just look at each other and then at the same time, both of you press your lips against each other, your arm wraps around his shoulder and your fingers tangle into his hair. your tongues dancing together, the kiss is hungry and rough, as if you both knew that one of you would eventually push the other away again.

neither of you does it this time.

chris moves back towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours as he sits down and pulls you into his lap, so now you're straddling him. you hum in approval, his hands move to your waist and he trails kisses to your jaw and down to your neck, tilting your head back to give him more access.

the fact that neither of you had been able to forget about that kiss for the past week, made you even more turned on this time. his hardness is straining uncomfortably against his black sweatpants, and you, not wearing any underwear to sleep, feel your pajama shorts getting soaked. though he knew you wouldn't let him fuck you, no matter how much you wanted it, you held back.

"y're pissin' me off, kid," he mutters against your skin, sucking on it.

pulling on his hair, you move his hair back to make eye contact with his full of lust eyes, "you're annoying."

chris smirks, pulling you into another kiss, making you move even closer, feeling his hard dick beneath you which steals a soft, quiet whimper from you. he hears it and breaks away from your lips, his expression cocky, "what was that, princess?"

your cheeks burn from embarrassment and desire after his words, something that doesn't usually happen, but he notes that he made you blush twice now.

"can you shut up?"

"i can," he tilts his head to the side, not breaking the eye contact and clicking his tongue against his teeth. "but judgin' by what i just heard, i assume you wouldn't be able to do so."

"is this a challenge?" you question him with raised eyebrows.

"maybe."

"and what if i win?"

chris grins and shrugs, "depends from ya, but if i win, you'll let me do anythin' i want."

you narrow your eyes, the tension heavy in the air. this was such a bad idea. "fine, but nothing extreme."

"you mean nothing that includes my dick deep inside you?"

your jaw drops at his bold words, eyes wide, "oh my god..." then you add, "didn't you say, and i quote, 'it's not like i want you anyway'?"

"forget 'bout it," he grins, enjoying the effect he has on you, "so? deal?"

all your logical senses were screaming not to agree to this, and to end what was happening as quickly as possible, but you stopped acting logically the moment you kissed him back for the first time. "yeah, deal," you nod, chris's eyes sparkled with satisfaction and he kissed you again, spreading his legs and moving you onto one of his thighs, your knee between his legs now.

while you are too busy kissing him, he still holds your hips and starts moving them, giving you some needed friction. you grab his arms to balance yourself, your heart pounding in your chest.

"chill," he mutters against your lips, "ride my thigh, c'mon."

breathing heavily, you slowly relax into his touch, the need and wetness between your legs taking over your senses. you start grinding down against him, chris smirks at that and presses a trail of kisses down your neck again, desperate to make you fall apart and lose the bet.

"mhm, good," his voice is muffled by your skin, "keep goin'... take what ya want..."

being quiet is starting to feel harder by the second, so your lower lip gets quickly between your teeth as you bite it to keep from making any sounds, while pressing further down against his thigh.

"shittt," he hisses, pulling away from your neck. "look at that, soakin' my fuckin' pants..."

you look down, continuing to rub against him, noticing the dark, wet spot on his sweatpants from your arousal. you cover your mouth with your hand to keep from making a sound, but he quickly moves it away, his grip on your wrist tight.

"that's cheatin'," he smirks, clearly enjoying it. your eyes catch the visible bulge in his pants, only now realizing that it was also really hard for him as well. "so wet f'me, your soakin' thru your goddamn shorts? that's naughty."

"shut up," you breathe out, feeling the knot in your stomach growing so fast, it shocks you. chris's grip on your hips was so tight, his fingers were leaving marks.

he scans your flushed face, the sight of you like this and that he was the one to make you feel like this, makes his dick painfully pulse in his pants.

"m'not the one who should keep their mouth shut," he retorts cockily, looking down at your clothed core grinding against his thigh. "let's test somethin', shall we?"

chris wants to make you lose at all costs. he uses his thumb to remove your bottom lip from between your teeth so you're helpless now, and you shoot him a glare, before he grabs his ghostface mask that was lying at the end of the bed and puts it on with a smirk. your eyes widen and you freeze for a moment, but he grabs your hips, urging you to start moving again. he remembered how turned on he made you last time, and he wants to check if it's really this mask that has this effect on you.

"you claim to hate me, but y're humpin' my thigh like i was your personal pillow," he chuckles darkly. "what a desperate little slut..."

barely managing to hold back a moan, you let out a shaky sigh instead. his words and that ghostface mask, took you closer to the edge and chris noticed it, knowing you'll fall apart soon, and he's gonna win.

"you like that, huh?" he continues teasing you with his words, making you struggle. "i wonder how many times i made you wet before, without me knowin'... or have you ever gotten off to the thought of me...'cause ya clearly a needy bitch f'me..."

that's when you break, losing control and moan loudly, feeling your hips stutter, barely being able to keep yourself on the edge. it's like music to his ears, chris forces your hips to stop, not letting you move, and hearing a soft whine of protest coming from you. you look at him with half-opened eyes, while he takes off his mask, that big smirk on his face telling you that you've lost.

"well, well, well..." he licks his lips slowly. you remain quiet, digging your fingers into his shoulders, embarrassment and lust written all over your face. "oh, don' be silent now, when you jus' moaned so pretty f'me..."

fuck. that's the only word you hear in your mind right now. telling by his expression, you knew it's gonna end up bad.

"so?" he raises his eyebrow, "ya lettin' me do anythin' i want now?"

you nod hesitantly, "a deal is a deal. but no..."

"no fuckin', got it," he rolls his eyes, moving you off his leg and adjusting his sweatpants in an attempt to get some relief. "though, can't lie, i'd love to rock your world a little."

"chris," you say warningly, pushing aside the image that just popped up in your mind.

he keeps grinning and lies flat down on your bed, head resting comfortably on the pillow, "sit on my face."

your eyes are almost popping out of their sockets, "what?!"

"stop actin' all innocent when we both know you far from that," he grumbled annoyed at your shocked expression. "you almost came jus' from ridin' my thigh."

"i said no fucking—"

"i agreed not to stick my cock in you, not other things."

your face grimaces, cheeks heating up again, "don't say it like that."

chris rolls his eyes again, "c'mon, just sit on it. you're needy and soaked as fuck, lemme help you out." seeing your hesitant face, he adds, "no one will know."

your desperation makes you take off your shorts with a pounding heart, putting them aside and kneeling on the mattress next to his head, feeling his focused gaze on you.

"if you ever bring this up—" you start seriously, but he shushes you and licks his lips, waiting impatiently. he had to taste you.

nervously you swing your leg over to the other side of his head, positioning yourself above his face. his eyes go to your glistening, dripping pussy and he feels his dick hardening even more, the tip sticking uncomfortably against his pants due to the leaking precum.

you slowly lower yourself onto his face, making chris smirk and he gives you a first lick along your wet folds, groaning against you at the taste. your breath hitches in your throat as he immediately starts sucking on your pussy, his fingers spreading you open further. loud, slurping noises filling the room.

"oh, fuck," you gasp for air, automatically tangling your fingers into his hair, your other hand gripping the headboard.

he pauses to push two fingers into you, crooking them upwards to rub against your g-spot, "you taste so fuckin' good."

"chris, don't— don't stop..." you mewl, your hips moving a little. he smiles, "wasn't plannin' on it."

he redoubles his efforts, sucking on your clit as he pumps his fingers faster. he's determined to make you cum on his tongue, to claim your pleasure for himself. his ego demands it.

you were a moaning mess now, your hips grinding down against his face. noticing your desperate movements, chris smirks against your pussy, curling his fingers more insistently as his tongue flicks rapidly over your clit. "yeahhh, fuck my face, gorgeous," he mutters against you.

you maintain eye contact, pulling his hair more and being closer to the edge again. chris pulls his fingers out of you, gripping your hips instead. his nose is buried into your dripping hole, his mouth making sloppy, wet noises as he devours you.

"fuck! so... s-so good," you moan, chewing on your bottom lip to muffle the noises a little bit.

he groans, sending vibrations through you. the way you tasted and the sounds you were making, causing his dick to twitch in his pants, desperate for a release. chris is lost in the sensation of your pussy riding his face, your juices dripping down his chin.

"chris—" you whine, your eyes rolling back. "come on my face, i wanna taste it," he pulls away just to speak, then going back to his work.

chris's tongue flicks skillfully over your swollen bud, as your legs starts to tremble and trying to close around his head, causing his hands move to your thighs, gripping them tightly. you cry out his name again, your hips stuttering and the knot in your stomach finally releases. "oh my god—"

the moment you start coming, chris sucks on you harder. he eats you out like a man dying of thirst, his own hand rubbing his cock through his pants as he watches you shake and convulse.

"oh... fuck..." you breathe out, looking down at him. chris moves his tongue over your clit, not ready to pull away from you. his own release is right there, his cock throbbing painfully in his sweatpants as he imagines his face covered in your cum. "holy shit, chris.." his name leaving your lips like that, pushes him over the edge. he moans against you, his body tensing as he cums in his pants, his release seeping through the material.

you blink a few times, panting and move yourself off his face, sitting down on the mattress beside him. you see his flushed cheeks and heavy breathing like he just ran a marathon, your eyes traveling down to his lap, noticing the dark, wet spot.

noticing your gaze, chris feels a wave of embarrassment and annoyance. he quickly sits up, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand, then trying to cover the stain on his pants. "shit... don't fuckin' look at that," he snaps, his face a little red.

"you came in your pants," you observed wisely, still looking at his lap even as he tried to cover it.

"s'not like you made me do it or anythin'," he scowls. "now stop starin' and gimme some tissue to clean this, before i make you lick it up."

you had to hold back a smile as you stood up and went to get two towels from the bathroom. your ego was boosted at the thought that he came in his pants just from eating you out.

you throw him a towel, starting cleaning yourself up and he did the same, pulling his sweatpants and boxers down a little, but you didn't dare to take a peek.

"that's actually kinda hot..." you mutter under your nose, putting on some clean pajama shorts. "shut up," he retors, moving his pants back up and standing up.

you both look at each other for a second, only now realizing what even happened.

the tension in the room suddenly grows more awkward, you feel embarrassed that you let him touch you like that, and he was annoyed that he came just by eating you out. it never happened to him before. he wanted you so bad and you had no idea.

"so," chris clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. "s'late as fuck, i gotta go."

you're almost relieved that he didn't wanna talk about this, "yeah. i'm going to sleep so..."

he nods, putting the hood over his head, as you walk towards the bed. "you can leave through the door, y'know..."

"where's the fun in that?" he asks sarcastically, trying to somehow go back to the back and forth. he opens your window, giving you one last stare. neither of you said anything, so he quickly disappears from your sight, the sound of him climbing down the gutter, filling your ears.

after a while you move to close the window, and sit on your bed in shock, also noticing he left the ghostface mask on the mattress. you grab it, looking at it and shaking your head in disbelief.

that night neither of you could sleep.

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @fratbrochrisgf @lvrsturniolo

[vesna-v-irkutske]

What do you think Artyom and Nikita (mostly Nikita) would think of their "fans" ?

Oh, Artyom likes having "fans". Knowing that someone is interested in him, and someone sees him as something more, tries to understand him, shows him sympathy, must stroke his ego. Although Daphne said somewhere that he was still kind of shocked by it, that he didn't understand it. Two things can be true at once.

May 22, 2023. "Vlada, hi. Got the letter on May 5th. • To be honest, it's an interesting admission — the interest in Nikita's and my philosophy... O_O I'm being completely serious: this is the first time I've seen something like this. I'm very flattered. =)"

June 26, 2023. "The reaction to the sudden popularity was calm. Although I was wildly freaking surprised. But at the same time, remained calm =D"

Although I bet he'd have cringed at some stuff and tried his best to ignore it and focus on something else.

January 6, 2024. "How I feel about trolls on the internet. I don't give a hoot about the internet and everyone who lives in it =) I hardly ever go there, so I don't come into contact with trolls."

As for Nikita, it's hard to say. Back then, he wanted attention and recognition. I'm sure both of them had fun playing Among Us in real life. Law enforcement officials said that they kind of liked talking about their crimes, that someone listened to them, paid attention to everything they said. They got what they wanted: attention and being treated seriously. They posed a real threat, they felt powerful, they were capable of changing lives.

Later, I think, the shame and realization woke up. Half a year after their arrest, Nikita said that he no longer needed all this, and that he felt ashamed. In November 2012, he said, "I feel sick/bad when I think about what I have done."

In June or early July 2012, Nikita gave an interview to a newspaper: — Why is Anoufriev supported on social media, but you don't have any fans? Is he more ideological? — I don't really care about this idea at all.

What I'm trying to say is that Nikita only talked to his mom and gave interviews to a couple of newspapers and journalists because they asked him, not because he was particularly eager for it. In short, he wasn't looking for contact. Just like his whole life before that. So I think he didn't even know about his "fans", or he wasn't very interested. Who knows exactly why there's not a single letter from Nikita from prison. He had no one to write to but his family. And I'm not really sure if someone else knew his address to write to him. Besides, he was a very closed-off, anxious and depressed person, I doubt that he wanted to communicate with strangers. Who knows what they might have written to him? All kinds of threats and insults? He knew it himself.

I think he'd have distanced himself from it all and disappeared into the shadows. At the same time, I'm not denying the possibility that he would be interested if he found out about the "fans". Just a sizeable maybe. But I think that he, just like Artyom, would be extremely surprised, confused and wouldn't understand this. Maybe he wouldn't necessarily have thought anything about their "fans". Maybe he'd have thought it was weird. Perhaps he'd constantly wonder why people were interested in him, if there was any catch in it, if they were actully laughing at him? Maybe he wouldn't really care.

But he'd totally be weirded the fuck out because of some of you, especially if it had to do with his looks and something romantic/sexual in general.

Of course, he knew about TCC, but he suddenly found himself on the receiving end of that interest. And I think he'd have been very distant with his "fans". He was never a talker, and even less with a bunch of different people. Maybe, by some miracle, he'd have managed to make a couple of friends (hopefully better than those he had before, just someone nice and compassionate instead of someone interested in very dark stuff; however, Nikita was very deeply convinced that he was nothing good, and that he didn't deserve anything good; besides, all these positive and pacifistic things were alien to his mentally ill, disappointed in the world, people and himself brain; there's comfort in suffering and misery, if it's something you've been used to since an early age, because it's familiar, and getting better requires a desire to change, effort and energy, which depressed people have very little of). Anyway, who knows how it'd have affected him. Don't encourage mentally ill person's bad tendencies.

[notashadowbutawave]

finally talked my wife into watching 8x06 "confessions" with me and WOW there's quite a lot going on in this breakup scene in buck's apartment (and the infamous glee scene for that matter) that I haven't seen discussed much on this website (though maybe I'm just not finding it?) like this show is always yelling the themes in your face but...

first of all I think it's somewhat intentional that Buck is being written as kind of regressing. So far in the show, he's gotten his confidence in romantic relationships by fulfilling the role with the person that he thinks he should fulfill. with Abby, Buck had just learned about serious adult romantic relationships and how they work and was trying to Be A Partner in a complete speed run. But he learned that no amount of devotion is a substitute for functionality. with Taylor, he was trying to Be A Functional Partner - and he learned that being a partner Has To involve trust, and that trust comes from somewhere else other than just our actions - it has to come from our hearts.

Tommy is the first person he's ever dated where he doesn't know what the next steps are and that's because this isn't something he has a blueprint for - being a Partner and a Functional Partner for somebody who sees right through him and sees exactly what he's trying to do, to make Tommy never leave. Abby was completely clueless (sorry I really dislike Abby) and Taylor didn't realize that an adult man could behave so badly without utter malice in his heart. Both of them kind of make the mistake of being vulnerable to Buck's charms.

Tommy is of course vulnerable to Buck's charms but Buck is more transparently himself with Tommy as well - and what Tommy sees, then, is a person who is deeply insecure and may be trending in the right direction but ultimately still thinks there's a lever he can pull to make Tommy stay and never leave him. He doesn't know that he's not done cooking yet because every new thing he learns about the world or others makes him feel brand fucking new.

So yes, the glee scene:

Josh was absolutely gagged that Tommy was Abby's ex fiance

Buck's first instinct is to see the situation from Abby's side and go into protective mode which is adorably loyal to be fair but also like ; get a grip

I actually love Josh's framing of "you care about this person and if you want a future in a queer relationship you need to learn that we don't all come to this the same way"

Did they need a cultural reference? No. Were they going to self referentially congratulate Ryan Murphy for inflicting it on the world? Yes.

And regarding the breakup itself:

What is wrong with this fandom's sense of humor that I haven't seen a gif of "I'm the himbo" ??? Like yes babe u sure are come here

Buck is really working so hard in this scene to make sure Tommy knows that he's serious. He's like... this freaked me out but I've decided I'm cool with it. She changed my life but not like you !!!

Like bless his heart, Buck thought he was really doing the right thing by telling Tommy about Abby BEFORE ASKING HIM TO MOVE IN WITH HIM. like MY CARDS ARE ON THE TABLE??? SEE??? LOVE ME FOREVER !! it's adorable and it's also cringe as fuck.

I think the real sin of the writing here is making Buck so completely clueless that this is the wrong move. Like he's kind of an idiot (Eddie Diaz's words not mine) but moving in with someone after dating them for six months in your 30s is WILD behavior and I don't think even Evan Buckley would fail to realize that this is a bit much in this moment.

But idk being in love makes one do stupid things? I did all of my messy bitch relationship shit before I turned 30 but I guess it is buck we are talking about

I completely understand why Tommy reacts the way he does in this scene and bless Lou Ferrigno Jr for acting it with such nuance, much more depth than the scene frankly deserves. What a heartbreaker. Like you see him tense up at Buck's request

"I'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you." such an insane thing to say to your boyfriend. Whoever approved this script was trying to take me out like with a gun.

You then see the absolute grief in Tommy's eyes like oh god this kid is killing me. He's so sweet. He's so cute. He doesn't get it. I love him. He doesn't get it.

As an aside, Eddie being stalked in the juice bar by the hot priest was absolutely incredible.

I didn't hate this episode but wow the writing does suck shit, however I fully believe it makes sense for them to break up here and get back together in the future ??? because Buck DOES have some shit to figure out. Like moving in with someone is a lot of fucking intimacy REALLY fast and baby boy sometimes you NEED to pump the brakes a little ESPECIALLY when you think someone might be THE ONE and you just figured out you like guys six months ago.

I get it and yeah the writing is tragic and the inclusion of Abby in general is just unhinged and unnecessary but like I don't hate the broad strokes here. how else does the blorbo learn if not by ritual torture by the writers. Lou is too good to not have back though. My god what a treasure.

end bucktommy endgame truther transmission

[sleepyangelkami]

I'm posting this from my phone so please bare with me guys.

"ew, you write y/n as a baby."

okay, so. I understand that the way I write might not float everyone's boat which is so okay !! But yk what you could do...? Scroll !! There's no need to hate. I really apologize if the way I've written my readers in x reader fics is harmful in any way. However, I'm not going to stop making the character they're with baby them and look after them. The beauty in all of this is that none of it is real. Life can be hard and life can be way toooo much and at the end of the day you might js wanna read ab getting babied. People baby their partners all the time whether you're male female any other gender none of this matters. I write female y/n and if you have a problem with the characters babying her but at the same time you're posting matt sturniolo (I apologize if I spelled that wrong) and saying omg cutie baby 🥺🥺 it's the same thing !!! It's so normal and people are making it weird. If you want to read badass!y/n then write badass!y/n. People get so hung up on writing shy readers and saying it's weird. It's how a lot of people feel and I'm personally really shy irl which is why everything on my account is fake !! Kami isn't even my real name ! You guys need to stop spreading hate towards people and if you don't like their work whether it's cringe or even a little weird then please just scroll

"ew innocence kinks are for p*edos."

Oh my. More often than not innocence kinks are usually submissive people loving the chase and getting dominant people to spell it all out for them. Not only that but sometimes people suffer from childhood trauma (me !!) and they read things that make them get to relive the part where their 'innocence' was 'taken' from them in a gentle way and not by abuse of power. Also, some people just have innocence kinks !! And that's okay as long as you're two consenting adults. When did everyone get so judgemental !! I've seen stepcest, ACTUAL incest and more prominently pain kinks and knives kinks guys innocence kinks really are not the worst problems out there ! I understand that some people take them too far which is not okay and under no circumstances would I ever support someone taking advantage of someone else who doesn't fully comprehend what's going on. But yk what this is?? Mere fantasies. They don't exist, it's just what people like to read so please leave us alone 🩷

And finally, "why is y/n such a pushover omg?"

Wanna start off by saying I don't condone cheating ever !! And I would never write a fic where the reader gets back with the character after they cheat. With that being said, the only fics I have ever seen of that (very VERY few) they have put trigger warnings at the beginning to let you know what you're reading. And for the people who say that the reader shouldn't go back because their partner yelled at them... Guys PLEASE !! I understand that yelling isn't something that should be excused, you should never put your partner in a position where they are scared or feel uncomfortable. However, I also know for a fact that everyone reading this has at one point in their lives yelled at someone. Being loved isn't about loving someone with happy rainbows there's gonna be bad days which I find realistic enough. Partners argue, sometimes relationships even take breaks and people get petty and people yell but you know why?? Cause we're human !!! It's in our nature if we're angry or annoyed or whatever it may be. Of course this behavior shouldn't be excused if it's constantly on show. Although denying the fact that you'd ever get back with someone after they yelled at you during an argument is a little bit childish. I don't mean hate to anybody whatsoever I'm just saying that you're dating a human (hopefully) not an alien (you'd be surprised on Tumblr I actually can't rule that one out) they have emotions and while sometimes they can be misplaced... It doesn't mean they're a bad person for it.

This isn't meant to harm or send hate to anyone !! I've just seen so much hatred spread across Tumblr and it's really upsetting. People should learn to support one another and if you don't like the content, scroll ! Once again this is hate to nobody enjoy ur day/morning/evening/night lovelies !!! 🩷🩷

(sorry for the ramble angels)

[appleblueberry-pie]

yandere miles 42 when a guys asks you out to prom yk like where they make a whole scene a cardboard box cut into a square and it has will you go out to prom with me 😭😭 and says the most cheasy thing making you cringe and a large group of ppl are surrounding you two but we reject them and they get mad and you tell miles all abt it ^^ i love your posts btw🙏🏽

[Come back home to me.]

You knew something funny was gonna happen when people were smiling your way, giggling and whispering about you. And the further you trekked down the hallway, the more crowded it was. You tried to keep your eyes to yourself as you slithered through the crowd. Clutching your backpack straps harder. Phones were out and on you, you felt a little nervous. This day has been hard enough for you. Long, grueling hours in class, people chatting up a storm in your ears, a mind-blowing headache that you've had all damn day that you could only take medication for just 30 minutes ago. You were tired.

"Hey, Y/n!" You tense up before sighing, shoulders dropping. How much happier would you be if you just ignored the call of your name and dealt with the backlash tomorrow, instead? You recognized the voice, and knew that if you ignored him...you'd be dealing with the consequences forever. You decided to turn around.

There goes Travis. His dark brown complexion and well-maintained dreads make him stand out. They were pulled back into a low pony, probably because he knew these videos would be the talk of the school for a while. He always loved the spotlight. A junior, like you, giving you that smile that all of the girls bothered him to give to them. It's directed right at you while he holds a beautifully made sign. It's humongous. And pink. And purple. Colors that you don't remember telling him were your favorite. Your head begins to hurt again when you notice your name drawn in amazing detail and care, followed by something among the lines of "prom" and "love of my life."

Somehow in the time span that you scanned your eyes over the sign that determined your possibly inevitable doom, a perfect circle was formed by the students who stood and watched you two like hawks. The flash on phones made you calculate that these videos wouldn't leave the internet for at least a month. Great. A month of reminders. A month of prodding and picking at your sanity from a place you have to go to damn near every day for an education. And a month of replays of a rejection.

You're not telling him yes.

Travis's homeboys hoot and holler to encourage him. "Y/n..." He starts, taking a step closer to you. A fake smile wobbles onto your lips and you stare up at him. "......yes...?" Everyone suddenly goes silent as you two begin to converse.

The way he stares at you makes you feel like....what he's looking for in you isn't something you'd give up for any high school boy anytime. Because what he wants, you know it isn't genuine love. So it makes you nervous the way he seems to tower over you during his, so called, "profession of love".

"Your beauty and smarts is something I've always wanted in a girl." His voice is loud and clear. It echoes throughout the hallway, like he wants everyone to hear. You don't think the halls have ever been so quiet. "Everyday, I'd pass you in the hallways while you carry your textbooks and wonder what it'd be like talking to you every morning before class. What it would be like to love you the way you deserve to be loved." His vague explanation of his love towards you had you wondering if anyone else also realized how fake this whole thing was.

His dark brown eyes never leave your face and he's right in front of you now. "So, I made this sign...to show you how much I love you. And how much I want to be with you. So, if it isn't so much to ask," Travis slowly puts the sign aside and drops to one knee, taking one of your hands into his, holding it carefully. "would you please go to prom with me? And let me be your man?"

The longer he watched the live feed, the harder it was to not burn his work space to the ground. The longer he listened, the harder he tweaked his claw he was attempting to fix. He was trying. He was trying so hard to stay calm. Because it's not like you'd say yes. But at the same time, no matter how often he kills or beats niggas up, "They just keep fucking touching you, puto cabrón!" He swipes the table, his tools and broken claw flying to the ground. Miles takes deep breaths, holding his head in his hands.

He stands up, turning off his phone and begins pacing. He didn't wanna see the rest of that. Why does he have to keep doing this? Don't they understand your his? Just his??? Yes, you're the shining light that keeps Brooklyn alive, yes, yes, this isn't news. But he's always with you. So why do they keep bothering you?

It doesn't matter because he's gonna keep killing them until they get the message. The more roaches he brings into the light, the better. He suddenly rushes to his phone and quickly dials your number, chest heaving as he tries to calm himself.

Your phone silently vibrates in your back pocket and your heart drops. It had to be Miles. Because he wasn't at school today and this definitely wouldn't have happened if he was here. You're so fucked, you think to yourself as everyone cheers at Travis's speech. And it goes silent again as they wait for your answer.

Suddenly, Travis is so hard to look at. You didn't want to be stared at like that when he's gonna die in the next few hours. Miles was gonna get him and it'd be your fault. He always said it wasn't and would caress your face as reassurance, but there's no excuse when he only kills these guys at school because they talk to you. And not for any other reason. You always have to be where the line is drawn.

"No, I can't go to prom with you." You say, chest lifting of the thousand pound weight that held it down. Travis didn't even look sad, he still had that adoring look in his eyes. And you then knew that he was faking all of this. "Why not? Is it because of Miles?" He stands, still holding your hand and shakes his head. "If he's bothering you, I could....get rid of him if you want. Cause that nigga, he a fucking weirdo. And he clearly, like, has you hostage or something, cause he ain't nothing special. Any one of us is better than him." He scoffs at the mention of him and his friends laugh with him.

You shake your head and take your hand away. "No, sorry, Travis. I just....don't wanna go." He rolls his eyes and smiles at you, picking up his sign. "Whatever. That's aight." He tosses it in the nearest trash can. You wonder if he even made that himself with the way he tossed it with zero regards. He turns back to you one last time and nods. "I'll holler. Let me know when you get rid of yo little guard dog. He be stinking the halls anyway."

And everyone dispersed.

You let out the breath you didn't know you were holding. You think this city is going to be the death of you with how many times you've gotten unwanted attention based on your looks. You tense up once more when you remember that Miles was calling you. The sudden silence after multiple calls was never a good thing. You yanked your phone out of your pocket and saw the 20-something missed calls and whispered to yourself in fear.

Immediately, you began your journey to his place.

His room was dark and cold. Only the light from outside his window illuminated it. You softly dropped your backpack into the usual corner and backed up to sit on his bed, but your back softly collided with a warm wall that also wrapped it's arms around your torso. You flinched as Miles exhaled in your ear, his head resting on your shoulder. "Miles, what the hell...."

He squeezes you a little and backs you both up, until he brings you to sit on his lap on his bed. He shifts you, so that you're facing him, his hand caressing your face and rubbing your back. "Hermosa como siempre, mami. How was your day?"(Beautiful as always, mami.) He whispers it to you, to calm you down. You're visibly nervous at his actions, expecting him to explode any minute.

"Um...it was alright. I did my project in 3rd period and got a coffee drink with my lunch. And..... I got asked to prom." You stare down at him, watching him scan you up and down, and let him 'check' your pockets before resting his hands on your waist. "Yeah? Who asked?" He already knew the answer, but wanted to hear it from you.

You severely struggled to tell him it was Travis. You were tired of him killing people. You were tired of the apologies from men who were beaten half to death because of you. You scrunched your eyebrows as your throat began to close.

"Hm?" He asked. You hated how calm he was about this. How he held you so dearly as you fidgeted with your uniform skirt. Tears built up in your eyes and you shook your head. Miles pulled you closer, immediately wiping your eyes. "No, no, por favor no llores, nena. No estés triste. I just want you to tell me who did it, that's all."(No, no, please don't cry, baby. Don't be sad.) You break into full out sobbing and wipe at your eyes.

"I don't- don't want to because you're gonna kill him!" You stutter and manage to spit out your words, voice wobbly. Miles shushes you and rocks you back and forth, resting your head on his chest. His voice rumbles in your ears when he speaks. "You don't have to worry about a thing when I'm here with you, N/n. All I want is for you to drop his name, and everything else doesn't matter."

He kisses your forehead sweetly, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. "Okay?" You nod and try to take deep breaths. You couldn't win against him. He probably already knew who proposed to you, and Travis's fate still wouldn't be unavoidable. "Travis." You felt immense guilt and despair the moment you dropped his name.

"Travis...." Miles repeats. Just putting his name in the air made him pissed all over again. He stays silent for a few seconds before tilting his head to the side. "I just realized why that name is so familiar," He starts. "That's that nigga who robbed and threatened you last year, ain't it?" Miles scoffs and turns to look at you. "Is that why you didn't leave when he brought up that sign? Cause of what he did to you?"

You scrunch your eyebrows at his words and sit up. "How do you know about that?" You didn't meet Miles until a month after you were robbed by Travis in your sophomore year. So, him knowing about that was weird, especially since you never brought it up to him before. Miles ignores your question and continues. "I should've known some shit was off." Miles places you on the bed and gets up, grabbing some clothes to change into.

You rush to stand in front of him to stop him. "Miles, wait! Please- please don't do this. He didn't even do anything to me. All he did is ask me out. I said no. What's wrong with that??"

"What's wrong with that is that nigga is gonna keep fucking getting at you until he can get into your pants, baby. I'm not stupid. These niggas know what they doin' riling you up and sending you back home to me crying and shit. Ain't you tired??" Miles begins to size you up, backing you towards his bedroom door, clothes clutched in his hand as he stares down at you.

"I am fucking tired. And I'm also tired of you ruining my life by making more rumors for niggas to spread about me. Nobody wants to be near me because of you, Miles!" You jab your finger into his chest and he grabs your hand. "You don't need nobody else." You hear his breathing speed up and realized you should've kept your mouth shut.

It's too damn silent for your liking. All you can hear is him and your heartbeat in your ears. "When the fuck have you ever needed anyone else besides me?.....I take care of you. I feed you, I do your fucking hair every morning, I walk you to and from school, I protect you. Es que no es suficiente?(Is that not enough?)" You don't respond and stare up into brown eyes that glare down at you. "How 'bout I show you how good you got it?" You try to pull your hand back, but his iron grip isn't letting up. "What.....? Miles, let me go."

"What's wrong, mi corazón? Don't wanna see?" Miles almost jokingly asks about your sudden concern. He steps into your space once more and firmly grabs your face. "Look at me when I tell you this,"

He shakes his head. "You don't know how to protect yourself. I'm the only one who knows how to keep you safe in these fucked up streets. When was the last time you felt protected before you met me? Huh? Cause I know you haven't. I'm meant to be here with you! I'm protecting you from the horrible fucking things that are happening out there that could've been happening to you, baby. You heard?"

You struggle to remove his hands from your face and he makes no move to stop the distress he's putting you in. "Okay, okay, Miles. Just...please stop."

Miles places a kiss onto your forehead before holding you in his arms. You sigh relief at the release of pressure and let him hold you. "Volveré pronto, okay? And then we can do whatever you want."(I'll be back soon) You allow yourself to relax and your eyes flutter shut. Sometimes you wonder how much it'll take for him to stop taking his obsession out on Brooklyn.

[postcardsfromheapside]

[heavy sigghhhhhhhhh]

Okay, it's 9:30 in the morning, but I don't want to go out in the cold yet so we're addressing THIS instead.

First and foremost, turning Emmrich into the victim (and then whining about the lack of Solas) is what's cringe here. Not only is some of this wrong (Harding only brings up the age issue because Emmrich expresses his own concerns and she then acts as a sounding board for him), but it's getting tiresome to act as if the other companions don't have reasons to voice their opinions (I'm getting particularly tired of people not listening to the exchange with Taash and considering how they might feel). You can apparently consider things from Emmrich's perspective, but you refuse to consider things from everyone else's.

I'll put this under the cut - I hope no one has plans because we're going to be here a while.

A lot of the complaints in the post neatly latch onto individual ones I've run across in the past, so I'm just going to make one big response.

Emmrich is my favorite character in Veilguard, and second only to Varric for the whole series.

But he can be stuffy, snobbish, overly pedantic, he gets into other people's business and loses emotional perspective when the academic focus takes over, is possibly attempting to make a major life change based on barely-addressed trauma, and is prone to bouts of melancholy where he has to be drawn out by his friends and/or lover about whatever is actually bothering him, rather than him communicating his issues. He is not perfect,

That's why it's very interesting in that post to see someone claiming that "no one's bullshit is called out." When the companions "dunk" on Emmrich, it's a two-way street. Sometimes the companion is wrong, sometimes Emmrich is wrong.

Neve and Emmrich resolve their issues peaceably - it's not toothless, it's just that they're both mature adults and neither of them get actively hostile with others if they don't have to. They talk it through over several conversations, and decide the other is fine - good company even! - and move on to sharing Manfred, sharing poetry (you have to read the codex), sharing spell books, joking with each other, they're my favorite to bring out together despite not having interlocking talents.

Davrin and Emmrich start somewhat peacably - Emmrich tries to encourage him that he will find Assan's siblings, and I've gotten dialogue about the books the lighthouse has to offer early on - and then they begin their magic and child-rearing arguments. And Davrin ISN'T IN THE WRONG.

1) while it seems silly to us for Davrin to be a Fade denier, what's more interesting to me is that he points out that in a group of mages arguing about the Fade, there's never a cohesive answer. It's like listening to philosophers or religious experts never coming up with one clear answer about their favorite topics to mentally masturbate over. Davrin likes "science". He's writing a monster manual, ffs. He wants solid answers. One thing I love about Davrin is he's never afraid to call something that's bullshit, bullshit. Weird magical things happening in Arlathan? Bullshit. (and they are) Living in the lighthouse and feeling like it's ooky spooky? Bullshit. (and it kinda is) Questioning the boss about the god stuck in their head feeding them bullshit? 100% should be doing that. You should be listening to Davrin more - he's the voice telling you not to go into the haunted house, y'all, it might save your life.

2) He's also not wrong about Emmrich helicopter parenting Manfred, and almost none of how Davrin handles Assan is any of Emmrich's business, or area of expertise.

We need to stop getting upset at Harding for talking Emmrich through his worries about an age difference (this is something I think Bioware handled badly in that not everyone headcanons their Rook at a younger age, but also, Emmrich clearly has an issue with aging due to his thanatophobia). He shows signs of distress, and she talks him through it and offers advice. For some reason, a large part of the fandom has decided to take his issues out on HER, which is *wild* but not unexpected given the deeply internalized misogyny I've seen displayed. Not only that, but Sylvia herself has come out on Harding's side, because she wrote Emmrich that way.

Getting irritated at Taash is honestly wrong on so many levels at this point. I don't diagnose other people or characters, so I won't get into the ND aspect (it's fine if you relate to it, I'm not stopping you), but I will say this: Taash comes from a completely different culture than Emmrich, which finds using dead bodies so "callously" to be abhorrent, and their particularly sensitive sense of smell makes anything having to do with death even more disgusting to them (have you ever smelled a corpse, or dead animals? My migraines enhance my sense of smell, and make normal things smell awful sometimes) and finally, they are IN THEIR EARLY 20'S AND FULLY ACT LIKE IT. That means not everything they do is going to be as mature as the rest of the party, who are in their early to mid 30's, (and Emmrich was listed as 50-52). You can outright tell Emmrich to cut the shit, and he reels himself back with zero disapproval because he realizes ALL of this in a single second. *He's* the grown-ass man and professor here and shouldn't be escalating their argument. He values Taash, and changes his entire behavior toward them IMMEDIATELY, because *he was in the wrong*. And Taash responds to it, in a positive manner. You do not need to protect Emmrich from Taash.

Even Lucanis refuses to talk to Emmrich about Spite in some dialogue, because he feels more like a academic project than a person.

No companion is explicitly "called out" because sometimes these characters are calling *Emmrich* out. You're just refusing to see that he might be acting badly in his very quiet, stuffy way.

**put a pin in the Davrin/Lucanis bit**

Now.

After seeing a series of screenshots ending with this:

I got a little fixated with finding out which route unlocked this dialogue. It turns out you, as Rook, can romance Emmrich while expressing distaste for death, necromancy, and the undead the entire time - effectively dissing his profession and life's work, to paraphrase the post I linked - and Emmrich doesn't actually disapprove. Any time you can express disaste without missing a flirt option, if you do that, he takes it in stride. And then you can flirt as normal. He is *used* to people feeling this way. I think all Nevarrans are. I rather suspect he doesn't give a shit what the companions think about his job, at his age - he's written books, he's given lectures, he's a senior Watcher. Their opinions don't matter. He's at the top of his game, he has nothing to prove to them. Rook hired him, not them. And Rook? If you romance him, and take this route, his answer to you is: "There's no shame in a little attraction to the forbidden, my darling."

This man is a fucking menace. He doesn't need defending - you need defense against his rizz.

Now, Solas.

Yes, Solas taunts him for being a lich. Solas also taunts Davrin for being Dalish and what he must have heard about Solas from his people. Solas also tries to flatter Emmrich if he remains human. Solas tries to butter up Lace by apologizing to her. It's almost as if Solas is the "god" of deceit and trickery and presents as many different faces as their are people or even aspects of those people. He will present whatever face he thinks he needs to in order to get under their skin, or throw them off their game. Solas doesn't care about Emmrich becoming a lich. He doesn't actually care about any of the companions. He cares about tearing down the Veil. What choices you've made do not matter to him on a personal level except inasfar as he can use you. That's who he is. I hate it for you if you haven't realized and accepted this by now.

There are a lot of people who think Solas and Emmrich "nerd out" in their dialogue, and I just don't see it. I've held back from this descriptor in this lengthy response, but Emmrich constantly displays a very "British" politeness - and he does it when Solas attempts to flatter him in the end game. Emmrich doesn't express a *personal* wish to have a conversation with Solas. He says there are things the Watchers wish to have answered. It's professional for him. Solas kidnapped Rook, someone who, romanced or not, Emmrich spent weeks making a damn good facsimile of the lyrium dagger in order to save. Emmrich isn't going to outright tell Solas to go fuck himself, because he's too well-mannered, and he's got an affinity about spirits. But he's not inviting him over for tea and crumpets.

I don't understand where the idea that Emmrich holds off from flirting back because of the age gap comes from. "I must be sure to live up to expectation" - do you...do you not see that as him flirting back? TBH I think this guy flirts first and then kicks himself because "that's the boss" (and probably gets told about what's happened with Varric) and only REALLY gets serious when he thinks "No, there actually is something here" when Rook has flirted a few more times after that, plus helped him in his personal quest. Age gap be damned. A lot of us did not play Rooks with an age gap, or that much of one - mine was my age, well within Earth "norms" these days.

Okay, back to the Davrin and Lucanis bit.

Saying that Lucanis is "okay because he's an assassin that only kills bad people" is missing the point. Lucanis fully admits that he has only killed people who are guilty by his own yardstick. I'm sure all the companions could agree there are some standards (children) but even in D'Meta's crossing you're faced with a moral choice where not everyone agrees what to do (free the mayor or don't) and it's very clear that not everyone has the same standards about what makes a "killer". So why should you assume that Lucanis is a guilt-free assassin? We know that he frees slaves, we know that he earned a reputation killing Venatori mages. But he demures from Emmrich's excited statements that he "empathizes" with all his victims. There's absolutely no way he was able to vet all his kills, and who decides who "deserves" to be killed? You're meant to contrast this with Davrin's warm empathy for the criminals who join the wardens and become "something better" - the kinds of people who start bad and change into something good, who get a second chance to help and contribute to Thedas society in a meaningful way. But the Wardens have their own dark history, they're often corrupt. Lucanis and Davrin are two *good people* propping up their own suspect organizations, both of which are doing the best they can in imperfect situations. It's like watching a gang member and a cop slowly understand each other.

Please for the love of Andraste. Go read widely and expose yourself to other things and other people. It will help you gain perspective. This is a GOOD game, and not thinking critically about the conversations and choices, or trying to see things from each character's perspective, is what's holding people back from enjoying the richness and replayability it has to offer.

[aloesarchives]

Two for the Price of One (JJK Oneshot)

TW/Warnings: Profanity, NOT POLY SATOSUGU X READER, Fem Reader and She/Her pronouns, ANGST, Angst for Satoru and Reader, Bittersweet ending for Suguru and Reader, HIGHKEY MISCOMMUNICATION, Possible OOC Satoru, abandonment issues if you squint really hard, Reader slowly losing herself, Reader feeling depression/hopeless(implicit), Reader's has a healthy dynamic with her clan

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader/Suguru Geto x Fem!Reader

AU: Canon

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader's clan has a unrealistic healthy and understanding relationship with her)

Word Count: 6.1k words

Summary: Gojo's lack of coping caused you to drift away and eventually depart after Suguru's defection from Jujutsu Society.

(A/N): I know it doesn't make sense and will make many frustrated with how dumb this is. I just wanted to write my emotions out with this one, okay? I know this wouldn't slide but I'm a sucker for these scenarios. Edit: Since I've been getting positive reactions from you guys, I decided to take out the cringe/unrealistic out of the warning/tws lists. I truly love and appreciate you, loves!❤️

[!!Semi-edited & Proofread!!! 2/8/2024 4:04pm CST]

It was hard on all of you.

More so for you and Satoru.

Ever since Geto’s massacre and defection, the higher-ups and Jujutsu society have been scrambling to get the chaos under control. Having a special grade user become a curse user was sounding red alarms as there was an immediate threat to present-day Jujutsu sorcery.

You knew something was up with Suguru. You did; your observation wouldn’t allow things to go unnoticed. It was a bit here and there, but never a significant concern. You tried coaxing him gradually to open up to you, but your efforts were fruitless. No bells were ringing until the post-Plasma Star Vessel incident. You felt the shift in Suguru’s aura; you noticed his lifeless stare—the growing dark circles around his eyes surrounding the tiny flicker of life left inside. 

You tried being there for Suguru. You did anything and everything to accompany him and not leave him alone. It was selfish of you. To be desperate for your best friend to lean on you for support and not to go down a destructive path. You became even more worried when Haibara returned cold with a frustrated and traumatized Nanami. It was becoming more evident of Suguru’s deteriorating condition, you to confide in Shoko and even Yaga-sensei. 

Grief is like love, a twisted parasitic curse. Even though a year has passed, your grief was a malevolent spirit that latched itself onto your shoulders with a vice grip. A bitter reminder of how Suguru never said goodbye to you. He technically did with Satoru. But it was more of him telling Satoru that he was severing ties with Jujutsu Society by questioning him with his newfound powers. All you got from Suguru was a simple letter Shoko gave you at your dorm. She was with you as you read it. Tear droplets stained the paper, words smeared, and became unreadable. Out of pure frustration, you ripped the paper in half—the tearing of paper cut through the sickening silence. Shoko hugged you as you sobbed in the aftermath. While you were mourning the loss of your friend and your lives together, you were also mourning your life after this would never be the same. It would only get worse from here. 

 Satoru is tossed onto multiple missions left and right, never catching a break.

And there was you, trying to return to your regular school life. Or how every day can it be now? One of your best friends just murdered an entire village and his parents, and the other one is overworking himself to the very bone. Shoko being there for you was a surprising one, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Given that she was the first one Suguru said goodbye to, she understood his actions.

The problem was trying to tell Satoru about it, but he would brush it off, saying that maybe it was the change in weather or sickness. When you tried to explain there was more to it, Satoru would wave his hand at you, saying, 

“You’re overthinking too much, (Y/N)-chan! I’m sure Suguru is fine. We just have to give him some time.”

Though the tone was light-hearted, it provided no comfort. You know Satoru was suffering as well. Individuals process trauma differently, after all. You were seeing this first hand. 

Satoru was overcompensating to the world of Jujutsu with his enlightenment, overworking himself and burying his pain through that charismatic mask he now dons. Suguru is the most common one: Insomnia, isolation, and depression. He slowly became a lifeless husk. On the other hand, you were coping by trying to move forward while acting like a rock for them. Despite the hard transition, you didn’t deny your trauma as you slowly worked to process and navigate through it. You had the support of Shoko, your teacher, and even your clan/family stepped in to support your mental health endeavors. They went as far as providing you with a therapist, who was also a sorcerer.

But you all were suffering in silence.

A year has passed since Suguru left, and you were getting by. You, Shoko, and Satoru would graduate in the third year and officially become Jujutsu Sorcerers. Yet, at this point, it felt more like only you and Shoko. Satoru still attended class and hung out, but missions mainly preoccupied his school life. He recently returned from Hokkaido, only to be sent out again. This time, however, it was somewhere in Western Europe. That’s on the other side of the world. It would only be for a week, but still. You wanted him to rest or take a break, as he never did– not since the incident.

He wouldn’t be leaving for another seven days, so you had enough time to be with him. Yet it was challenging because Satoru didn’t let up. The ravine he created kept opening, the distance stretching far and deep, pushing you away.

Just like Suguru.

You didn’t want to lose Satoru. You almost did, becoming a grim reminder of how much you cared for Satoru Suguru. To fall for your best friend was a betrayal. You didn’t mean it, but Satoru did things that made your heart warm and fluttered. Suguru was the first to catch on; he saw your crush a mile away. Confiding in Suguru about it, you found solace in his words– feeding into an enviable delusion. 

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's eyes were able to hide his longing for you as you rambled about Satoru and your latest hangout together. Suguru always thought you and Satoru had a special connection—your two powerful chemistry and how you bounce off each other. He presumed Satoru had mutual feelings, but nothing was said. Once he left, he knew you had his heart. There was no space for anyone else to fill it but you. And Suguru was more than willing to live with reality. If the girl who gave his life light is with his best friend, so be it. He would settle with the heartache as long as you were happy.

But you weren’t happy at all.

Over time, you started questioning whether the life of a Jujutsu Sorcerer was worth it. Yes, you were born into the world of Jujutsu, and it has been your whole life. But the last two years radically changed that. You were already exposed to this life's dangers and cruelty; prepare to face it head-on no matter what. Yet second thoughts became third thoughts. Then, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh. The more you challenge your initial mindset, the more doubts seep into its cracks.

Why should I continue when I am nothing more than a placeholder in this world?

How can I save everyone if I can’t save one person?

Where is the meaning in all of this if I’ll just die alone and be replaced and forgotten?

Was this endless cycle of Jujutsu Sorcery even worth it?

You wondered if Suguru shared the same thoughts to push him to his decision. Now, you don’t blame him for leaving at all. It was grime. It was depravity. It was futile. You only stayed because you had your clan. You had Yaga-sensei and Shoko. But most of all, you had Satoru to shoulder the burdens of the Jujutsu world.

That’s. . .what you thought. . .

You decided to go to Satoru’s dorm to check up on him. Maybe squeeze a hangout in there. Gently knocking, you hope he was there since you couldn’t sense him around the campus. There was faint shuffling on the other side, signaling he was. You softly call out to him as you knock again. Once opened, Satoru greeted you in his school uniform. You found it odd since he’d switched to his comfortable clothes after school hours. 

“Hi, Toru! I just came by to see how you’re doing. The mochi store we always go to releases its seasonal flavors today! Why don’t you come with me? I heard one of your favorites returned, so I didn’t want you to miss it.”

“I appreciate the thought, (Y/N). But not today, I’m sorry.” Satoru said with a smile.

You couldn’t pinpoint his smile, tittering on, sad and strained. A tinge of uneasiness settled inside your heart, but you still wore your smile to not let it surface.

“C’mon, Toru! You don’t know if they will sell out today. Plus, the weather is great. I heard some festivals with food stands are opening up because of that. It wouldn’t hurt to go out just this once, Satoru.”

Satoru’s smile disappears at your insistence, replacing it with a fine line. His mood change didn’t sit well with you. You had previous attempts to get Satoru to care for himself. However, this is different from all your others because the band that holds your desperation began to wane itself thin. Your solid composure falters in bits. Your bright aura slowly dimmed as your now chapped lips twitched.

“Satoru, I know that you’re busy. Always on missions, meeting the higher-ups, your clan needing you more than ever, you have your hands tied. But it wouldn’t be too much just to enjoy yourself. Just come with me today before you go to Europe next week. It’s been a while since we hung out together.”

“Look (Y/N), I don’t really have time for this. I need to head out now, or it will get dark. Maybe another time–”

Then something inside of you snaps. You didn’t know whether it was your desperation or uneasiness, but assumed both because your facade crumbles to reveal your emotions.

“You always say later, Satoru, but never do! You haven’t taken a break in months! You’ve gotten paler, and your under-eyes are darker than before! You’re pushing yourself too hard and beginning to neglect yourself. Toru, Please! I’m worried about you! You know I can always help you–”

“For the love of God, (Y/N)! Can you STOP TALKING?! GOD, YOUR VOICE MAKES MY EARS BLEED! LIKE HELL YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND MY RESPONSIBILITIES!”

 It was never your intention to snap. But the way Satoru was acting paralleled Suguru. Eat, sleep, and go on missions. It was always those three, the same ones Suguru was subjected to that became a factor in his defection. Satoru was caught in the vicious cycle that pushed Suguru over the edge. 

On top of your crippling fear of Satoru sharing the same fate as Suguru, Déjà vu struck you. Desperation emerged from within as you didn’t want to lose him, breaking your resolve before him. Desperation was fear in another form. 

You weren’t the only one to reach a breaking point. Satoru snapped as well and at you, of all people. You guessed it was from all the stress and emotions he bottled up that exploded there. What Satoru was experiencing was valid and understandable; you knew this. Yet to blow up at you was uncalled for as you made it clear you’re only helping. Your eyes sting as you feel the formation of tears ready themselves, biting the inside of your bottom lip to keep your voice from breaking.

“B-but. . .Satoru. . .I w-was only trying to–” You stuttered out, forcibly pushing out words to fill the silence.

“Help? You were trying to help, (Y/N)?”

Once saying that Satoru let out a sarcastic laughter that could be mistaken for madness. Horror took over your face. Pain-filled eyes were glossed over, showing your tears could spill at any moment. His laughter abruptly stopped, making it so quiet that only your staggered breathing could be heard. He meets his eyes with yours with the most disdain you have ever seen.

“Do you think you could help when you’re just dead weight? You thought you were on par with Suguru and me. Get that out of your stupid little head of yours (Y/N). You were never strong like us.”

“You don’t mean that, right, Satoru?” You said incredulity as you reached out for him. Only for your hand to freeze before him, not going any further. A chill flashed over you, adding to the aching that enveloped your soul.

Did he– Did he just use his infinity on you?

“Oh, but I do. Now, I need to be somewhere. Do yourself a favor, (Y/N), and don’t bother me with your weak presence.”

And before you knew it, Satoru was already gone. He had used his teleportation to get to where he was needed. Leaving you alone with the door to his dorm wide open. The sounds of the crickets took over. They were paired with your small sniffles, furiously wiping away your nonstop tears. 

Were you weak to him?

Have you really been holding everyone back?

Were you that much of a nuisance to him?

Is this how Satoru really felt about you?

Has he always felt this way?

You never saw utter detest and contempt from Satoru. Your previous interactions had him irritated or annoyed, but never like this. This was the first time Satoru had blown up on you, let alone given you such a reaction. Before, you’d repeatedly remind him of your support and help. But it always ends the same way, pushing you away. After what happened, this will be the last time you’d do this for him. 

You were once told that you can’t help someone if they aren’t reaching out for help. And this was a bitter example of it. Your efforts in having Satoru lean on you bore nothing. What’s the point in continuing this if nothing changes after multiple attempts?

You were tired, drained, and indifferent. Your tears keep falling as you enter your dorm, not even stopping as the sound of nature lulls you to sleep. 

You let two days pass to let Satoru calm down and give him space. No interactions or anything to pass some time. You would try to contact him for the next four days after that. But your texts were left unanswered and on read. When you tried calling, your call went straight to voicemail. He blocked your phone number, too. 

 The weight of your doubts and Satoru’s words the other day are fueling your impulsivity. If Satoru called you weak and dead weight, other sorcerers would think so, too. If you become a thorn in their side, you’re doing them a favor by pulling yourself out for them. Even if Satoru didn’t mean it, you knew there was some truth to it because he kept his infinity up. You could never forget how his blue eyes lit through his pitch-dark glasses as he spoke down at you. Giving away that he was conscious and level-headed when he said those words.

You were losing the war against your intrusive mind. Your doubts and thoughts gradually solidified in your consciousness. In the course of time, they won and consumed your psyche.

If becoming a jujutsu sorcerer would get in the way of others, then being a sorcerer wasn’t for you.

With your last attempts to contact Satoru, you have made your decision. A day before Satoru departs for Europe, you decide to pay your clan head a visit. It was sudden and unannounced; nonetheless, they allowed an audience with you. 

They let you speak your mind, allowing whatever you need to be released and run free without judgment. Thus, you confided in them about everything.

This was too much; all of it was too much for you to bear any longer. You couldn’t see yourself as a sorcerer any longer after dealing with what you had experienced. Every day was a battle for you, and you lost every single one. You admitted you didn’t have what’s left of you it in you to shoulder the responsibilities of the Jujutsu world. You didn’t want the life of a jujutsu sorcerer anymore. You wanted one of peace, not having to fight every day. To enjoy the rest of your days as a regular civilian.

Confiding also in missing Suguru dearly and how his departure left a hole in your heart that could never be healed. You weren’t strong enough to face the horrors and hardships anymore and wish to live a peaceful life. 

Although your clan head was shocked at your confession, they were understanding and asked if this was something you truly wanted. An unwavering ‘Yes’ left you, and your clan head nodded. They gave you a choice: to go after graduation in a few weeks or leave now. If you leave now, they will deal with the rest as you finish the important schoolwork. It was just a waiting game with missions sprinkled throughout.

You could wait before leaving, but that’s wasting time. If you weren’t going to continue your life here, you might as well get a headstart now in your new one. You finalize your decision with the head. They said they would have some members pick up your stuff from your dorms tomorrow morning, but you said it wouldn’t be much. As you took your leave, you told them you would keep in touch with the clan. 

“What are your plans for what happens next, (Y/N)?” They curiously asked with your back facing them.

“Hmm, I don’t know exactly. But I have an idea, (Clan Head’s Name). Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

With a reassuring voice, you turn to respectfully bow before leaving their room. Though they never said it out loud, they saw how your eyes were soft, like tremendous pressure was relieved from your body.

Thinking about it as you leave the estate, you never mentioned your fight with Satoru. Though it wouldn’t change anything. That night, you packed your dorm in your suitcase. Only leave your bedsheets, a pillow, and a few desk appliances behind. Your closet and drawers were empty of any clothes you had. By 10 a.m. tomorrow, any trace left of you would be gone. As you write a letter to whoever finds it about your whereabouts, your thoughts return to Suguru. To playfully think he did the exact same thing before his defection. 

You looked at your school uniform as it hung on your door. You contemplated taking it with you but decided against it. You wanted no strings left attached when you leave the world of Jujutsu Sorcery.

Morning came as you stared at the room you once called your own. The remainder of your things are packed in cardboard boxes for your clan members to get later. You glance back over to your desk as your school uniform is neatly folded on top of it. Your lips are graced with a sentimental smile as you close the door one last time. 

As you walked along the campus, fleeting memories of your days here flooded your mind. You reminisced on the areas and places you spent your youth with your friends and classmates. Now you’re leaving Jujutsu Tech and the Jujutsu World forever. Never to come back. You get to the main entrance of the school.

Before taking another step, you sensed someone behind you.

“So you're leaving, too, (Y/N)?”

It was Shoko.

“Yeah. . . Shoko. I’m going. . .”

She blows out a large smoke cloud from her cigarette, giving you a blank look before sending you a smile.

“At least say goodbye to me. . .I don’t blame you for going. . .” Shoko adds as she holds out her arms. You chuckle at her gesture and give her a hug. By the slight firm grip you felt, she didn’t want you to go, but she couldn’t stop you either.

Once you break away from the hug, you remember something and fish out a folded paper in your bag. You handed it to Shoko, and she eyed it curiously.

“I was going to leave it in my dorm for someone to find, but I thought it would work better if I gave this to you if I ran into it on my way out. My clan is sending members to get the last of my things, so I won’t return to my dorm. Sorry I had to make you the messenger again, Shoko.” You bittersweetly said.

You find it ironic that your departure is similar to Suguru’s. Shoko is the first to see you two go while giving her a letter for the others to read. You laugh as you think this over.

Oh, how history repeats itself.

Shoko tucks away your letter before taking a drag from her smoke.

“Does he know about this?”

You knew she was referring to Satoru. You shook your head no, still have a small smile.

“No, unfortunately. Satoru and I got into a arg– disagreement a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s okay with me to begin with, as cowardly to say. The only ones that know are you and my clan head.”

She hums at your response before going for another drag.

“Your phone number still the same?”

“I don’t really plan on changing my phone number. Even if I do, I’ll text you the new number so you can give it to the others.”

“I see. . .See you around, (Y/N). Keep in touch, will ya?”

“I will. I’ll see you around then. Bye, Shoko.”

Giving Shoko one last hug, you wave goodbye as you leave Jujutsu’s High entrance, disappearing from view. Not daring to look back because regret might come if you did.

Shoko watches from afar, her cigarette being halfway done. She takes one last puff before extinguishing it with the bottom of her shoe. She looks at your letter. The paper was crisp with no wrinkles like it had been fresh from the printer. From this, Shoko knew you had written it recently, no hesitation evident on the page itself. Unlike Suguru’s, her fingers tighten on your letter as she sighs while entering the school.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“What brings you here? He’s a busy man.”

“I’m just an old acquaintance of his. Just a simple chat. It won’t take long, I promise.”

The pretty attendant raises a brow at you as she guides you to one of the rooms. She looks you up and down before facing forward again.

“You have a substantial amount of curse energy. You have a curse technique then; aren’t you a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“I…used to be…but not anymore…I chose to leave that life. I’m just a civilian that has a curse technique.”

You see the attendant smile out of the corner of your eye at your answer. 

“I see. Geto-sama will be happy to take audience with you then.”

You shouldn’t be here. You knew that. Walking in taboo territory could get you hunted down by the very society you were born into. It’s not a secret of Suguru’s position as both a curse user and a cult leader. You remember hearing about him reforming a cult that worshiped Tengan but dissolved after the incident. You found it interesting he hasn’t done collateral damage yet. No incidents or missions revolving around curses terrorizing civilians. Perhaps he was going for something on a larger scale, you thought.

But you missed Suguru dearly. Not in a sentimental reminiscing way. More as in yearning for him entirely. Everyone tells you it’s not the same with Suguru gone, obviously. Yeah, but Suguru plagued your mind after his defection. You want nothing more than to see him again. Yes, things couldn’t go back to the way they were. But you didn’t like the prospects of what your future would hold if you stayed.

You disagreed with Suguru ridding the world of non-sorcerers. But you also understand and agree the current Jujutsu system is a dumpster fire that will never work. At the end of the day, only those the higher-ups favor will get to stay while the rest are sent off to die. You didn’t want to take part in that. You valued your life to know it shouldn’t be tossed around so easily by some dementia geezers who can’t even fight. And yet, you felt a tinge of regret for not staying to fix or break the system. Your only option was to leave and not involve yourself anymore.

The attendant takes you to the room, saying he will arrive shortly. Leaving you alone, you felt your heart race. You hope Suguru doesn’t kill you because he can sense your curse energy. Yet his letter was heartfelt and raw. His apology and the paragraphs after them were for you and you alone, like a confession. Even though you ripped the letter, you keep the two halves. Strangely enough, there was an address and a few words at the bottom of the page. 

‘You know where to find me.’

Here you are, waiting for him with the same letter he sent. As you wait, you can feel his energy get closer. You stare down, kneeling, the letter shaking like a leaf in your hands.

Then the door opens.

You let out a small gasp, not daring to look up as the footsteps approach his seat. A soft chuckle fills the room as you keep your head low.

“I thought I was mistaken when I felt your curse energy. But I now know my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. Please, lift your head so I can see you (Y/N).”

Your gaze meets Suguru’s soft eyes and warm smile. Both genuine and kind. His eyes widen before returning back to soft when he sees the tears trickling down for your lovely eyes he could get lost in. You stumble to stand, practically pouncing at Suguru. His embrace was like gates opening for you and closing once you entered. You softly sob into his robes as he holds you tightly. Comforting you by gently rubbing your back and hair, giving a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I missed you so much, Suguru!” was all you said before you continued to sniffle and hiccup into him.

Suguru hums as he pulls away to better view your face. You felt self-conscious as he lovingly gazed at you. Your nose and cheeks were raw from crying, and your eyes became an irritated red. Suguru smiles, wiping away your endless tears with his thumb.

“Oh, (Y/N). I’m sorry for leaving you behind. You understand, don’t you? From my letter?”

You nodded to respond. Holding the paper in front of Suguru. He notices the tear stains and ink smudges from the words he wrote down.

“I would’ve told you in person, (Y/N). Believe me. But I couldn't once they announced my charges. You would’ve been questioned as a possible accomplice. I didn’t want that for you. Do you know what it means for you to see me now?”

“Yes, I’m aware. But I left of my own accord; it wasn’t just for you, Suguru. I wouldn’t be able to last long if I stayed. So I decided to go, leaving it behind, all of it.”

He was a bit puzzled by what you meant. But it didn’t take long for him to piece it himself. Suguru figured something happened between you and Satoru but decided to stay silent out of respect. You both stare with relief and tenderness. Suguru gingerly takes your hand and places a light kiss on your knuckles. You set your unoccupied hand on his cheek, quietly giggling as Suguru leans into your delicate touch. He sighed in contentment. Bring your hand up again to kiss it as he wraps his free arm around your waist. His sincere smile radiates down onto you.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, (Y/N).”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru was in a better mood today than before.

Satoru cooled off his head after a couple of days from when he made that outburst at you.  He was stressed and tired of being continuously sent out on missions, and you did make a point that he hasn’t taken a break in months. He remembered what he said to you that evening, which made him feel guilty.

He knows he hasn’t been around because the higher-ups have sent him out like a work dog. It was now you and Shoko with him. The stabilization you two had on him once Suguru left.

You’ve been only trying to help him for a long time. Being there for him in your own way while coaxing him to hang out. Yet he took it for granted and said some vile things because his bucket decided to overflow then out of all the times it shouldn’t. You didn’t deserve that. You also didn’t deserve the silent treatment he gave you. He saw your text messages and listened to the voicemails you left. He did not answer because he was too prideful and stubborn to admit he was stressed and hurt you like that.

But sitting with his emotions and reflecting on how stupid he is for prioritizing his ego, he decided to cut down his pride and make it up to you. He unblocked your number and was going to call you. But he chose to just surprise you instead he chickened out. Satoru knew the European mission was a nuisance to his plans, so he had already taken care of it. By that, Satoru somehow teleported himself to where he needed to be in Europe, slayed the high-level curses, retrieved some curse objects, reported what he did, and teleported back to Japan in four hours.

He did all this at the last minute on the sixth day before Satoru was supposed to leave. He did this to stay and spend the whole week with you, make up for lost time, and give a proper apology.

Now, Satoru was strolling through Jujutsu Tech. He whistles as he holds a bouquet of (favorite flowers), a box with a (favorite color) bracelet with (favorite designs/charms), and a bag of mochi and daifuku for you two to share together. He walks around the grounds, trying to search you. He was told no classes today, so he went to your favorite spots. You weren’t anywhere.

‘Huh, that’s strange. (Y/N) would usually be in those places when class is not in session. I wonder where she could be.’

Satoru thought about dropping by your dorm but figured you were with Shoko. On the other hand, he couldn’t sense Shoko around either until Satoru felt it alongside Yaga-sensei. He sensed them in Yaga’s building, so he headed there.

Blissfully unaware of what would await him. 

Satoru clutches your gifts to one side as he opens the door to enter. His six eyes hadn’t kicked in yet, but something in the air felt off. His sun smile hasn’t dropped yet as he scans around, wondering why the two were quiet when he entered.

“Yo, Yaga-sensei, Shoko! I’ve been trying to look for you guys. By any chance know where (Y/N) is so I can give these to her?”

He looks at his teacher, and Satoru’s demeanor instantly changes. There, Yaga stood with his glasses off, clutching a piece of paper with a stern frown. Satoru turns to Shoko, a somber expression replacing her lighthearted one. Satoru just looked back and forth between the two before his eyes settled on the paper in his teacher’s hand. Satoru stands stunned, hearing his heartbeat in his ears grow louder and louder. The air from his lungs disappeared as realization dawned on him. 

Satoru clenched his teeth as he teleported to your dorm room, the clap resonating throughout the hall. He burst open your dorm door, and to his horror, your room was empty. The room was stripped of everything that made it yours. The closet and drawers were emptied, and your desk and bed were bare of anything from you. What used to be your dorm is now an empty dorm room, ready for the next person to claim it. He frantically looks around in hopes of finding any reminds of you.

Then, he spotted your old Jujutsu High uniform, laying neatly on top of your old desk. Satoru just stares, not daring to pick it up. Because if he did, he would’ve broken down. He can’t stay there anymore, to which he teleports back. He bears his pearly white teeth as he closes in on his teacher.

“Where the hell is (Y/N)?” Satoru lowly said.

“Gone, Satoru–”

“I know she’s gone! But where?! Why the hell is all her stuff gone?! Her room is completely empty!”

“Satoru,” Yaga tried calmly speaking, but he was clearly frustrated. “I know this is so sudden. But the (L/N)’s clan head said something came up with (Y/N), and they retrieved all her things. Her clan said they were going to deal with everything else.”

Satoru's breathing became staggered. He could hear it growing louder. He tried his best not to let his voice crack, but that made him angrier.

“Everything else? The hell does that mean, sensei? Why would the (L/N) clan withdraw (Y/N) from school?! School ends in a few weeks! She could have graduated with us!”

“It…wasn’t their decision, Satoru…It was (Y/N)’s…”

Suddenly, Satoru became flabbergasted. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This gotta be some twisted, cruel joke that was playing on him. His curse energy was flaring up, and his cerulean eyes lit lightly. The flowers from the bouquet were losing their petals, and his bag full of treats was getting smushed from his intense grip.

“What…?”

“The clan head said it themselves.”

“No…”

“She decided not to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer and leave Jujutsu society.”

“LIKE HELL SHE WOULD!!!” Just like that, everything came crashing down for Satoru. Not being in your usual spots on campus, the empty dorm; hell, he noticed your curse residuals becoming faint. The traces of them becoming weaker and weaker. Your presence here in Jujutsu High was fading faster than he could notice. The anger he built up showed itself as it was on full display. Honestly, Yaga and Shoko don’t blame him for his outburst. Satoru held you close, after all.

“Satoru, please.” Yaga pinches the bridge of his nose as he clenches his teeth. “I’m just as lost as you are. This came out of the blue…Her clan confirmed it, and she said it herself.”

Satoru slightly flinches when Yaga holds the paper out towards him. Gesturing for Satoru to take it.

“I didn’t read far into this because it felt like (Y/N) wanted someone else to read it.”

Satoru’s long fingers snatched the paper out of his teacher’s hands. His hands shake as he opens the paper up to see its contents.

It was a letter–from you.

His eyes slowly followed the words of your neatly written goodbye. His heart rips itself piece by piece as he continues reading. The guilt and shaming grew. He could feel the fatigue and jadedness from your thoughts. But the last paragraph makes Satoru’s heart hurt the worst. Your frustration was transformed into desperation for a new life, a fresh start. Away from the endless curses and scrutiny of the higher-ups, away from the pain and hopelessness, away from it all. You didn’t want to throw your life away. You just wanted to live. Then, you end the letter with an apology. Saying sorry because you couldn’t tell them your honest thoughts, for not facing them in your departure, for not trying hard enough for everyone when it was needed. Then, the last line of your apology made Satoru’s blood run cold.

‘Most of all, I’m sorry for being weak.’

He knew that line was for him 100 percent. You wouldn’t have written it down if he didn’t tell you. To Satoru, you weren’t supposed to be the one apologizing. It should be him. He was the one who yelled at you and said those cruel and discouraging things to you. The one who pushed you away and didn’t allow you a chance to help. Fuck, he had the audacity to use his infinity against you. How dare he do that to you, his best friend the girl he fell in love with. His teeth clenched so hard out of pure anger they could crack. The anger he felt for himself was tremendous. He was angry at Suguru, the higher-ups, and Jujutsu Society. Angry at himself for being so stubborn and prideful, for waiting too long to act and apologize. But above all else, he was angry at what had become of the situation. Fully knowing he could do nothing to change anything as already was set in stone.

If he hadn’t been so prideful, he would’ve apologized to you sooner. If he didn’t blow up at you, you wouldn't become broken and hurt. If only he didn’t push you away, maybe you would have stayed– stayed by his side. But ‘if onlys’ are regrets from the past of the current reality. Now, he is living in it with the consequences of his own actions.

This is the price Satoru had to pay. He lost the only remnant that got him through this world by pushing you away. He lost his only two best friends in the world with no way of fixing it. 

The price of becoming the strongest came at the expense of two of his most dearest friends.

Suguru was gone.

You were gone.

Forever with no signs of ever coming back to him. 

In the end, Satoru Gojo was, truly, alone.

[blackthemiller]

Humans Are Weird

I've seen this and I'm addicted to it so I'm making my own, not sure if anyone done that. But think, some peoples draws anatomies of living beings around them to inspect them, right. What if drawing someone naked was something only we do and normal to us?

İmagine a alien finds a human trying to draw them naked. (Please don't be offended. I never done that stuff)

Alien: *Walk into break room, finding human sitting on the couch, drawing something on their tablet.* "Human friend. What are you doing?"

Human: "Ah, just trying to figure something out." *They shrug, letting Alien see the unfinished drawing.*

Alien: *Shocked, four eyes bulging from head.* "What in the universe is this!?"

Human: *Confused.* "You don't like it? I mean, I never draw another creature but I'm trying."

A: *Pulling away to look at H* "No, but why would you draw us like that?"

H: "Why? You never seen a nude?"

A: "I'm scared to ask...what is a nude?"

H: "Well, it's practicaly drawing a figure naked for different purpose. Might be for understand skelelaton of the creature, for educational purpose, to study and inspect expresion and posture."

A: "And I suppos you do it for...?"

H: "I'm just trying to understand your skeleton, bud. We have so much of this at home."

A: *Weirded out but curious* "You draw yourselfs like that?"

H: "Yeah, but it's usualy professional stuff. You don't?"

A: "We don't."

....

A: "Are you going to finish it?"

H: "Well as long as you correct my mistakes."

(I'm writing for the first time in my life. I'm cringing so hard at myself. Please be nice)