#‘remember that time you tried to stab me and you totally missed’ ‘it was ONE TIME!’ vibes

[ofthclight]

enemies to lovers but it’s years down the line and they’re settled and domestic and their lives have blended together, maybe they even have some kids, and the enemies portion of their story is just the thing they use to roast one another endlessly

[jen-with-a-pen]

(In Your) Arms Tonight - 2/2

summary: Wade tests out his previous hypothesis with great success. Might experiment more later.

pairing: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson / Worst Wolverine x Deadpool

word count: 3.6k

warnings: MDNI 18+, Wade's POV-ish, blowjob, itty bitty blood mention, slight angst, nightmares/PTSD, pining, cursing, claws, crude humor and language, fluff, touching, *cue start of something new from high school musical*, Wade's a little shit, cum drinking bc i guess that's what happened, deepthroating, lowkey face fucking, bad flirting but it's kinda reciprocated, wade is the throat goat next question, wade kissed his roommate and they both liked it

a/n: here she is :') thanks yall for the patience and all of the magnificent love and comments for part one ❤❤❤ means the world to me, especially since it's my first time stepping out of stucky territory as a whole. also got a little away with the tags 😅 hope yall enjoy this !

Not beta'd. Half-written on my phone, edited and revised in ellipsus + gdocs. Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes!

If I've missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!

gif by @tomshiddles | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ❤️

My AO3 | My Masterlist

Read this fic HERE on AO3

❤️ Reblogs and comments are appreciated, as always ❤️

PART ONE | PART TWO

Wade forgot to turn the AC back on. 

It's his turn to sleep in bed tonight and he's got the worst case of swamp ass you can get this far from a fucking swamp. He's already thrown the covers, sheets, pillows, and his boxers off; he swears if he gets up there will be a sweaty version of a goddamn chalk outline on his mattress. 

He stretches. Notices he can feel both hands now, fully grown and everything, fingernails and all. Smirks to himself as he flexes his new fingers before reaching over to the nightstand– it's actually a really sturdy cardboard box, but it works just as good– for his phone. The screen responds with a bright 3:02AM overlayed on a photo of him and Vanessa. 

There's a pang in his heart for a moment. The same type of twist and pull he felt when Logan got up to leave after their big adventure (AKA saving their universe.)

“See you around?”

Wade tried to swallow the hard lump of desperate hope that had been bubbling inside of him the entire time they ate their shawarma. Hopes it wasn't obvious in his voice. Not a total cry for help, but definitely more of a solemn whimper and puppy dog eyes.

No matter how many times he was used to it– the people he loved leaving or dying or what have you– it still stung like a bitch. 

“Probably not.”

And Logan didn't mean for it to come out so harshly, but that's what happened when– and if– he got too close. To anyone. To everyone. 

With that, Logan rose from the bench, gathering his cowl and TVA jacket up from the place on the bench separating him and Wade and started walking. Dogpool whined and scratched at Wade's arms to chase after him. 

Wade had to do something. Anything. He couldn't let this one– this Logan. His Logan– walk off into the sunset.

No.

Not without him. 

“Logan!” 

And then he turned around. 

And now they're here. 

He feels a similar yank and tear elsewhere in his body– lower belly, groin area– whenever thoughts wander back to that glorious time in the Honda Odyssey; Adamantium stabbing in and out of his chest cavity, puncturing his lungs and literally taking his breath away. The tight feeling of multiple seat belts holding him down to the second row passenger seat and the sickeningly happy grin adorning Logan's face when he tied the last knot. Wade remembers smiling just as bright under his mask.

That one definitely got filed into ye ole spank bank for safe keeping.

Sighing, Wade remembers he's sweating like a hog and drops his legs over the edge, planting two clammy feet onto the creaky floorboards. He throws on his previously discarded pair of boxers just in case Logan has a case of insomnia. Gotta take a man out to dinner before you show him your dick, like a gentleman. 

Wade peaks his head out into the living room, TV glow assaulting his pupils like a flash bang. The door creaks open wider and Wade steps further out. He doesn't want to wake either furball– you'd be surprised how grumpy Dogpool gets when she doesn't get her beauty sleep– as he tiptoes out in front of the couch. 

His breath catches in his chest. 

Logan lies propped up on the couch, head resting on the arm with a throw pillow behind for support, arms crossed over a bare, hairy chest rising and falling slowly. A sheen of sweat coats his skin that reflects the changing colors of the TV. Half a snuffed cigar smolders on the coffee table ashtray. The semi-permanent crease between his brows is softer, perfect pink lips parted as he snores quietly.

And to top it all off, he's in his fucking boxers; his jeans are discarded on the opposite end of the couch, kicked off in his sleep to beat the heat.

Wade can't breathe. He can't help but stare, committing the heavenly scene to memory. A knowing smile slowly spreads across his chapped lips.

He's happy. Happy at how peaceful his roommate looks. Happy that Logan is finally feeling safe enough to sleep here. Genuinely. Wade knows first hand what it can be like to be constantly on the run, chasing peace and release, rest and safety. 

Tip toes make way to the thermostat, Wade presses the 'on' button to the AC when there's stirring behind him. Head turning slowly, he catches the tail end of Logan mumbling something in his sleep. 

“...Wade, please.” 

Wade freezes like a carjacker caught in an impound lot. Surely he didn't hear Logan, his roommate Logan– The X-Man, The Wolverine– fucking whining Wade's name in his sleep. 

What were the symptoms of heat stroke, again? 

Wade shuffles back over to the couch. Feels like a creep watching his fucking roommate sleep, waiting another moment to see if he needs to take a power drill and give himself a DIY lobotomy or not. 

“Mm… No, Wade…No, please, don't–” Logan murmurs softly. Struggling, brow furrowing, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ngh… Don't hurt ‘im… please.” 

Logan begins to shake. His head whips from side to side against the pillow, hands dig into the couch cushions, grunting, fists clenching as his claws itch to defend from the phantom threat. Muscles tensing and chest heaving, his breathing grows harder, faster, more frantic. 

He's having a nightmare.

Wade recognizes the signs immediately. He knows where Logan's at: some distant memory with talons and sharp teeth assaulting his brain without him knowing. Hell on earth on the worst nights, a light ego beating and insomnia on the better ones.

Wade knows– his stopped two months ago. When Logan came home.

Without another thought– one in which he probably should’ve given– Wade climbs onto the couch to straddle Logan’s hips in the most non-horny way he can make it. Hands press into the center of Logan's chest. He gently calls his name, preparing for the sharp stab of Adamantium through an appendage and/or organ. Nothing he isn't used to at this point, but he secretly prays it isn't something totally major.

“Logan. Peanut, hey,” Wade whispers. He presses further into Logan, heat radiating off rough, hairy skin into Wade's tingling fingers. “Logan, it's me, Wade. You're having a nightmare, you’re scaring the kids–” 

SHNK. Intestines. Ten or fifteen points, depending on if it's big or small.  Wade's thankful it wasn't a kidney or his stomach– those are a bitch and a half to grow back.

“Okay– that was maybe warranted,” Wade grunts. Both sets of claws penetrate straight through his lower abdomen as Logan jolts awake, sitting up as much as he can while pinned under Wade. A gnarled scream catches in his throat. White-hot knuckles graze the skin of Wade's stomach, who is really, really trying his hardest not to get a boner right now. 

“Th’fuck's goin’ on?” Logan slurs, face inches from Wade's bare chest. He blinks. Once. Twice. His brow returns to its permanent crease as he adjusts to the scene before him: bright TV glow contrasts with dark shadows Wade casts over him.

Wade is on top of him and his claws are inside of Wade.

Face scrunching– not inherently in disgust, Wade hopes– claws retract with a muted grunt. Wade can breathe again while his body begins repairing itself. His hands are stuck to Logan's heaving chest, fingers fanning out over each delicious pec. Thick arms rest on either side of him, elbows bent and resting on Wade's thighs.

Wade swallows, praying the man currently underneath him either A. doesn't know where his hands are at the moment or B. this is going exactly the way he wet-dreamt it a few weeks ago. Completely unprompted too, by the way– he's no stranger to the sick side effects of PTSD, he wouldn't knowingly exploit that in order to get into his roommate's pants. He's got more class than that.

Well, most of the time, that is. Again, completely unintentional. Coincidence, if you will.

Maybe he does need that DIY lobotomy.

"Where th'hell am I?" Logan asks, voice less threatening and more alert. His eyes flick from the TV and travel up Wade to meet sympathetic chocolate eyes already on him. Wade peels each finger off Logan's chest and sits back on his knees. Gaze softening, hands fall into his lap inches above the chiseled V pointing to down under Logan's boxers. He doesn't dare move a fucking muscle.

His pinky finger twitches.

"You're okay. You're here, in my world, Peanut. Twenty-first century. New York. We use fifty-cals now, not muskets. You were having a nightmare–"

Wade's throat hitches. He's not gonna cry, no– he's not that much of a fucking empath, for chrissake– but what he wants to say versus what he probably should say get lodged together on the way down to his mouth from his brain.

"I– I did the pressure thing Dogpool does with me, sometimes. Except I thought you'd wanna wake up to this pretty face 'nd not one with drool."

Logan looks skeptical, searches Wade to see if he's actually telling the truth for once, features relaxing once he mulls it over in his head. Wade's gnawing at the inside of his cheek when Logan's thumbs subconsciously start rubbing slow circles over the toughened skin of his upper thigh. Upper-outer, to be exact, but right now Wade doesn't really want to dwell on the minute details.

"So," Logan starts, "you woke me up… 'cause I was havin' a nightmare…?"

"Well, not exactly because you were having a nightmare, no." Wade runs a hand over the top of the couch, distracting himself. "Al really likes this couch. Antique, actually. Vintage find. Be a shame if some man with claws–"

Logan's palms press into Wade's thighs. A warning.

"Mouth."

Wade sighs. Hands fall into his lap once more and he is absolutely not fighting to gawk at Logan's V that lights up like a road work sign pointing to a detour. The semi-hard abs just above definitely do not make him want to run his fucking tongue across them like a cheese grater.

He looks back to Logan, clears his throat. "Look I– I've been there. Am there, honestly. Didn't want you t'be alone whenever you woke up, but I also know how hard it is to wake up. So," he shrugs, voice lowering, "thought I'd help. Help you come down from it, I mean."

Logan stares back in response, eyes trained on Wade like a hunting dog and a downed fox. Wade swears the corner of his lip twitches along with the meaty hands on his legs.

He's gotta get the fuck out of here.

"So!" Wade starts, "Seems everything's in working order. The doctor will be in soon–" Wade starts to scramble off before realizing Logan's holding him down. Sharp claw stubs poke into scarred skin and a deep growl rumbles out of Logan's chest. Not necessarily threatening, no, more of a 'you're not goin' anywhere.' Wade gulps, hands raise up jokingly, forcing his racing mind to think of a naked, cross-country skiing Al to stave off the blood violently rushing to his stubborn cock.

Logan sits up, closing the space between him and Wade. Hazel eyes study wide brown ones. Logan takes a breath, shaky but sure.

"Don't want y't'go. Not– not yet."

It's hesitant. Unsure but curious, quiet enough Wade thinks he's hallucinating again. Wade mulls it over, leans forward with hands back on Logan's chest, skin and muscles taught underneath with tactile tension.

Wade sucks in a breath, moves his hands higher to Logan's collarbone and it's grossly apparent how tense Logan is. Hostile to any sudden movement, untrusting of touch to the point his fists shake against Wade's legs. A slow, tender hand inches up Logan's throat and onto his cheek. Wade feels through the rough facial hair and unkempt stubble, a thumb finds the shaved spot at the point of Logan's chin and strokes gently. Fists start to unclench, but there's a hesitancy still lingering in the air, under Logan's skin. Wade thinks it smells like fear. Inches away, face to face, breaths fan eachother's faces.

There's a shift in the air and Wade leans forward.

Logan doesn't stop Wade from connecting them together, lips touching lips in the softest manner possible. Almost feels like there's nothing there, Wade's too gentle. Nobody moves, breathes, at first; they're each trying to make sense of what the fuck exactly is happening. Logan isn't saying no, isn't sawing through Wade's skull and Wade isn't pushing himself on Logan.

Okay, maybe leaning in to kiss his roommate might be pushing himself on Logan to the logical bystander, but in the moment it just felt right.

To Wade's surprise, Logan's the first to move.

His lips start molding into Wade's. There's pressure, a little pushing, chapped skin and the remnants of tobacco on his breath when his lips part and his tongue pokes ever-so-slightly through. Wade pushes back, hoping his breath isn't as abhorrently delicious as leftover cigar. He tilts his head, nose poking into Logan's cheek as his does Wade's, and lets his tongue explore a little more. Logan allows him in, meeting him at the tip and hungrily welcoming him. Breaths turn heavy, panting, while hands begin to roam, more comfortable now that they've crossed the line into 'spit swapping' territory.

Wade drinks him in. Greedily swallows the choked-back groans Logan keeps holding in his throat that come out as muted mewls. Fingernails wantonly dig into one another and leave temporary marks that disappear under rapid replacement cells.

It feels like forever when Wade finally comes up for air, unable to focus with the growing hardness digging into his thigh.

"I–fuckin' shit– I think I have an idea." Wade pants like a dog in heat– and fuck, he might as well be at this point. Logan pulls back with lidded eyes and kiss-swollen lips.

"'s that?" He's hesitant. Hands tense slightly over Wade's back, his whole body stiffens.

"Do you– do you trust me?"

Wade holds his breath.

Logan only nods. Adam's apple bobbing, lips part in anticipation and curiosity.

Wade strokes Logan's cheek in reassurance, shoots him a wink before shimmying down his body to the other end of the couch, keeping Logan's legs in between his thighs. Fingers hook around Logan's boxers, in turn causing Logan to jolt up immediately. A set of claws unsheathe an inch away from Wade's throat.

"Th'fuck are you doin'?"

Wade only smiles, taking a hand away and kissing the tip of the middle claw, gently pushing it back into Logan's fist and coaxing him to lay back down. What he's about to do would be easier with an in-tact esophagus.

"Relax, Peanut," Wade coos, "'m not gonna hurtcha."

Logan stares at Wade. Eyes pinch, still suspicious.

"…Promise?"

A sharp pang ripples through Wade's heart.

"Promise."

Logan hesitates, relaxes, gives another go-ahead. Wade's fingers curl once again around the waistband of his boxers and slowly, but surely, pull them down and off him. He can't help the immediate salivatory reflex upon seeing Logan in all his glory; the deep V lights up like a fucking Vegas sign pointing straight to the jackpot.

Logan's big– like, big big. Biggest Wade's ever seen (and Wade's seen a LOT.) An automatic response, Wade's asshole clenches, mistakenly preparing to take Logan. Wade forces himself to relax– that's not happening tonight. He promised Logan he'd go slow, no surprises, no whipped cream or leather cuffs.

Not yet, at least.

His own cock weeps happy tears through his briefs. He cannot believe how perfect– how beautiful– how fucking huge Logan is.

"What're you gonna do?" Logan whispers, hesitant eyes hooking on Wade and every little movement he makes.

"If it's alright with you, 1972 Burt Reynolds, 'm gonna suck every ounce of tension out of your perfect, hairy body and make you feel the best you've felt in a looong time."

Logan scoffs a laugh, brow furrowing as he shakes his head slightly. "Don't know who–"

Wade shushes him. "Don't worry, baby girl. I'll be your Sally Field."

Wade smirks at Logan's confusion and mentally makes a note to his future-self to show Logan the glory that is Smokey and the Bandit.

A gentle hand steadies the base of Logan's cock while another slowly wraps around his stiffness, standing at attention and beginning to cry, begging for Wade's touch. Heavy breathing and bitten-back grunts fill Wade's ears. It's a heavenly symphony he's lucky enough to have a front and center seat for. Free ticket, too.

"Ngh– Red, whatever you're gonna do– ah–!"

Wade presses his lips to the base, bush of hair tickling his nose and lips while he kisses his way up to the head, tongue poking out to lap up the precum. Before siccing his lips around Logan, Wade looks up once more, mostly searching for permission to help him feel pleasure for once instead of pain.

Logan reads Wade's mind and sends a small nod in response.

With a shit-eating smirk, Wade welcomes Logan into his mouth, flattening his tongue and curving his lips over his teeth so as not to scratch the sensitive, velvety skin. Drool spills out the corners of Wade's mouth and swallows a gag when Logan jams into the back of his throat, digging into his uvula. Squeezing the base and cupping the balls, Wade begins to bob his head to the rhythm of Logan's mess of 'fuck's, 'shit's, and–

"Mmm–Oh–oh, my god," Logan moans. A calloused hand runs over Wade's bald head, scars and grafts rippling under his touch while another hand grips tightly onto the side of the couch. Wade slurps up every drop of precum, relishing in the sweet musk of Logan's scent, head bobbing and tongue swirling in tandem. Logan's hips buck up into Wade, fucking his throat without meaning to. No amount of lozenges or peppermint tea will be able to cure the sore throat Wade knows he'll have come morning.

"F–fuck, Wade, baby– shit– that feels so–!"

Another lengthy dive down onto Logan hits the very back of Wade's throat, pulling a long, strenuous 'fuck' from the deepest part of Logan. He bucks harder into Wade who stalls, choking on Logan's cock while his own strains against his briefs. Another swipe of tongue, another gag and seeping drool, and Logan is officially done for.

"F–fuck! Motherfucker! Oh my, god, Wade–!"

Curses and chants and shaky breaths fill the living room as Logan spills into Wade with an 'O' on his lips and a hand on the back of Wade's head. There's a sharp shngk and a sting at the tip of Wade's ear as red warmth drips down onto Logan's thigh; his claws unsheathe into the couch this time, not Wade, who slurps and sucks every last drop of mutant cum from Logan's softening cock like it's the Fountain of fucking Eden.

He comes up for air, finally, lungs gasping against a swollen, fucked throat. He sits back panting on his thighs and Logan's legs underneath, a mix of cum and drool and the slightest bit of blood running down his cheeks and neck. Wiping away the mess with the back of a hand, blurry vision focuses back into reality and onto his roommate.

His roommate. Logan. Wolverine. Who's dick he just sucked the ever-living hell out of.

Well this is awkward.

Wade swallows, offers a crooked half-smile to the man who he just sucked, fucked, and milked dry.

"How 'bout them Yankees?"

Logan barks a laugh. A real, genuine laugh, one with teeth and spread lips and legitimate amusement. Wade preens.

"That was–" Logan wipes beads of sweat off his brow, "Fuck it. That was fuckin' amazing, Wade." He stuffs a hand behind his head, blinks a couple of times to recalibrate. "Didn't know that mouth did anything else 'sides talk."

Wade shrugs cutesily. "It impresses me sometimes, too. Helps when I have a willing participant. Just hope you signed the paperwork."

Logan shakes his head. Arms reach up to grab onto Wade, pulling an ear to Logan's lips.

"Now how 'bout we take care of you next, baby? Hm?"

\|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/

Morning sun and a weight on his chests wakes Logan from probably the most peaceful sleep he's had in… well, ever, honestly.

There's a wetness and mix of smells wafting into his nostrils that make him stir next; combination of what feels like a tongue on his cheek making way towards his lips, dog breath, and the sweet smell of something cooking in the kitchen. Eyes fly open when a whine vibrates on his chest, finding himself greeted by Dogpool wagging her rat-tail with eyes bugging out of her little head.

"Gah– get off me, mutt," Logan scolds, sitting up and gently shoving Dogpool onto the couch cushion next to him. He runs a hand over his face and into his hair, the crick in his neck a little less noticeable this morning.

"Gooooood morning, sunshine!"

Logan looks up with tired eyes still adjusting to the morning light to find Wade in his robe covered in flour with a mixing bowl cradled in his arm as he stirs. Last night comes screeching back to Logan as soon as he locks eyes with his roommate, mouth going dry and dick twitching in his boxers.

Wade only smiles, not at all hiding his obvious glance at Logan's crotch. "You want chocolate chips or blueberries in yours?"

Logan shakes his head. "In my what?"

"Pancakes, Peanut. In your pancakes."

"Oh. Yeah." Logan blinks, then scoffs a laugh to himself. "Yeah, Mouth. I'd, ah– blueberries. I'd like blueberries."

[bluebeary-jay]

Reason

(Joel Miller x Reader)

Summary: things go wrong when you try to cross a small city. joel almost gets himself killed and you finally confront him about why he never seems to trust you with anything

Tags: angst and fluff, probably a little ooc, a bit of humor, love confession

Warnings: mentions of violence and wounds (but nothing very graphic), age gap, swearing

Word count: 3.8K

A/N: this is my first fic ever published so i'm kinda nervous but i couldn't stop thinking about this guy. english is not my first language so excuse any mistakes. hope you enjoy <3

Joel was acting like nothing was wrong.

Which wasn't exactly anything new, really. Ever since you knew the man, he always had this rough exterior, that ‘do not fuck with me’ aura around him, and was never, ever, one for showing emotions.

Back in the QZ, when he and Tess sometimes let you hang along with them to get a job done or sneak into the restricted territory, you saw how he burst, pent-up and concealed emotions spilling out of him at long last when something went horribly wrong. He had never aimed his yells at you, though, even when it was clearly your fault that someone noticed you or you fucked up your part of the job.

Just like today. You weren't exactly to blame this time – something heavy fell over around the corner of the building you were sneaking by, and the thug looking for you three spotted you as you were ducking behind a car. Shit like that often happened when you had to work in the ruins of the old world.

Then you got separated from Ellie and Joel when the gang shot at you. All of you saw before that the street was blocked and you were practically surrounded. You barked at the pair to get out of here and that you’ll join them later, and ran in the direction of the ravaged stores, hoping to find a way around the blockade.

You remembered bullets firing at you and missing your head by centimeters. You remembered shooting and killing some of the guys chasing you, then screaming when you bumped into one of them and they grabbed you. The kicks to your stomach, the struggle, some nasty comments made by the thugs before you managed to stab one of them through the cheek. You remembered faces contorted in fury and a man lifting a gun to your head.

In that brief moment, you were glad it was you who was about to die. Better you than–

The man who was about to shoot you dropped his pistol after a loud bang pierced the air and he fell to the ground, dead. Others were soon to follow, too slow in drawing their own guns. It was Joel, of course, all bloodied and livid, blasting a head after head of the guys who were trying to hurt you. You were pinned face down to the floor and couldn’t do anything but watch as he fought them with only his knife and bare hands, as the corridor he was in was too narrow to make use of the gun without it catching on a wall or his clothes. You struggled and tried to break free, unable to bear the sight of the men’s blood mixing with his own from the growing number of cuts on his skin.

The thug holding you down apparently decided to finish you off, but didn’t have a chance before Joel tackled him to the ground, receiving another long gash below his ribs. For one terrifying moment you were sure he was stabbed in the chest and your whole world stopped. But the grunts and curses coming from the spot where Joel was knocked down on the ground quickly told you that he was fine.

You saved Joel just in time, driving a sharp shard of metal into his attacker's neck. After that the older man quickly looked you over, asking if you were hurt, and when you told him no, he grabbed your arm and led you to where Ellie was waiting.

All of you managed to get out and it didn’t seem like the gang was following you anymore. Excluding a couple of cuts and scrapes you all were fine and alive, which had to be a goddamn miracle.

That didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely furious.

Joel knew it and you suspected that’s why he was so insistent about walking in total silence, sending you and Ellie angry glares every time either of you opened your mouth. You were shooting daggers at his back as he walked in the front and even Ellie had to sense the tense atmosphere, for she was unusually quiet.

You knew Joel Miller was a protector at heart. That, among other things, was what made you care for him more than anyone else in your life, more than you’d care for a companion or even a friend. His caring, gentle nature hidden from the world under the rough exterior was what ultimately made you fall for him.

But no matter how attractive and admirable you found him, it drove you up the fucking wall that he never listened to you, never let you do anything even slightly risky or dangerous, like he always expected you to mess up. He didn’t even want you to sneak outside the QZ with him and Tess, and it was the other woman who finally convinced him.

You hated the thought that he might see you as a daughter, or worse - a burden. But the age gap between you two seemed bigger and bigger every time he did something like that, going after you because he didn’t trust you to get the job done.

And you hated it.

Only when the place you’ll spend the night in was picked and Joel took off his backpack with a wince of pain, you marched over to him and shoved his chest in frustration. Even though he was tired and hurt, he still towered over you and was much heavier, which made taking your anger out on him extremely difficult.

“The hell you're doing?” he asked incredulously, looking almost surprised at the fury painting your face.

“Don’t you ever think about doing something like that again, Joel!” you yelled at him, knowing you’re too far for any unwanted ears to hear you screaming. “I fucking told you to take Ellie and run! Why the hell did you come back?!”

“You’d prefer me to leave you behind and let those bastards do whatever sick things they wanted to do? A ‘thank you’ would be nice.”

Okay, now you were seething. You clenched your jaw and pushed him again, feeling honestly so fed up with his bullshit.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?! You almost fucking died, not to mention you put Ellie in danger, too!”

“Hey, I was safe!” Ellie chimed in, straightening from the place she was sitting in on her sleeping bag. “And there wasn’t actually–”

“Ellie,” Joel cut her short harshly, making it clear it’s not the time for her usual sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and muttered something about grumpy old men, turning their back to them.

You huffed and turned around, going deeper into the woods. Joel said your name but when you didn’t react he went after you with long strides, grabbing your arm and halting you.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?”

“You know damn well what’s going on!” You yanked your arm out of his grasp. “I told you to go and you didn’t listen, like always, and probably had to hack your way through the whole group of these idiots just to almost get yourself killed because of me!”

“Did you really expect me to leave you behind?” he asked with his voice raised.

“Yes! At that moment it wasn’t about me, I was thinking about Ellie and you! She’s way more important than I am! You’re more important!”

“Don’t you dare say somethin–”

“Do you think I’d be able to take Ellie across the country without getting any of us killed?!” You threw your hand to the side, huffing with anger. “I don’t have your skills and experience. You’re the only one able to handle it on your own, so if any of us is to die, it will be me, no questions asked.”

“Like hell it’ll be you!” He was seething now, too, and he came up to you in two long, angry strides, stopping just before he could stomp on your shoes. Suddenly you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your face. “I am not fucking letting you get yourself killed! Not now and not ever.”

“Can’t you just think logically for a second?!” you shouted in his face, tears of rage and helplessness gathering in your eyes. “I’m a goddamn burden to you both! Yes, it was me who alerted them of our presence and I understand that’s probably why you never trusted me…” Actually saying those words out loud was more painful than you anticipated and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It’s just, I can’t fight like you can, I’m not as valuable as Ellie, I…”

You had to press your lips together not to sob accidentally. Although you knew you had to make your point across, you still didn’t want Joel to see how weak you actually are.

“But I’m not fucking useless, understand?” you said sternly, looking him dead in the eyes. “I am gonna help you both go as far as possible, but if we’re ever in that kind of situation again, you’re leaving me behind and I’m buying you and Ellie as much time as I can.”

His expression hardened and he started to shake his head, but you beat him to it.

“I know you never wanted me to go on any missions with you, but just once let me be useful, alright? Even if all I can do is buy you a couple of precious minutes.”

“By letting yourself die.”

He said it with such finality and disbelief, all your anger got swept off and replaced by weariness. You sighed heavily and leaned against a tree.

“Yes, Joel. I know you’d rather not lose anyone else, but if I have a chance to help those I care about…” You realized you said too much and shook your head. “I don’t understand why it is such a big deal for you.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. His warm brown eyes were on you and for the first time ever you wished he'd look away. You turned your head and sighed again.

God, you were so very tired.

“I’m going to look for some firewood. You go check if the place is safe, alright?”

“No, listen–”

“Just this once, Joel,” you cut him off, not turning around. The tears that have gathered in your eyes before were threatening to spill down your cheeks and you weren’t going to show him how much this situation has pained you. “Just this once, drop it. Please.”

This time he didn’t stop you when you wandered further away from the camp and you truthfully didn’t know if it was better or worse.

*****

The rest of the evening went by mostly in silence. Ellie tried to lighten up the mood by reading some bad jokes from her book and though Joel was his usual grumpy self, it actually helped you a little. The girl seemed pretty proud of herself about making you crack a smile, but her efforts to bring Joel into the conversation came to naught. The smile disappeared from your face every time your eyes met and he looked away.

He almost didn’t say a word throughout your meal and preparing for bed, only muttering something under his breath when Ellie told you both goodnight. You were so tired that you managed to fall asleep almost immediately despite the worry and sadness gnawing at you when your thoughts drifted to the man laying on the opposite side of the fire.

When you opened your eyes again, the dawn was only just breaking. The air was cold and crisp, and you groaned, shivering and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, only to realize something else was draped over your form.

You rubbed your eyes and noticed the familiar green jacket covering your torso. Its owner was a couple of feet away, sitting with his back to you on a big log. The rifle lay next to him, propped up against the fallen tree. Your shoulders slumped at the sight of him and you remembered your argument from last night. You almost laid back down, but ignoring his act of kindness felt wrong, so with a quiet sigh you stood up, making your way to where he was sitting.

Joel glanced to the side when you approached and his gaze was instantly drawn to his jacket you wrapped around yourself.

“You were shivering,” he muttered, apparently knowing what you were about to ask. He said it as if giving you his jacket was the most sensible thing to do in a situation like that.

Was that an attempt to say he’s sorry for how he reacted earlier? You decided not to question his intentions too much and instead sat down next to him, nailing your eyes on the patch of recently disturbed ground.

“Thanks,” you replied under your breath, still not looking at the man. “But you didn’t have to. You’re probably cold now.”

“M’not.”

Liar. Stubborn as always.

None of you said anything else for a long time. You contemplated whether you should just go back to your sleeping bag and leave his jacket on the log, or stay and try to defuse the tension between you two. Somehow neither of these options appealed to you but it was so difficult to just sit here in silence and–

“I’ve been thinkin' about what you said,” Joel spoke up suddenly and very quietly, which interrupted your dwelling. “And I couldn’t stop remembering how damn sure you sounded when you said I don’t trust you.”

A wave of uneasiness washed over you and you wrapped his jacket tighter around yourself. “It’s okay that you don’t,” you said slowly, not really sure what he was getting at. “I mean, I’m not sure if even I would trust my–”

“That’s the thing,” he interrupted you with an irritated sigh and turned his head to look at you with his brows furrowed. “I do trust you. I just have no clue how…” Another sigh. “How I could’ve fucked up so badly that you’d think that.”

You blinked several times, not sure if you weren’t still dreaming after all. It kind of felt like a dream when he was sitting so close to you, his jacket around your shoulders and a rising sun painting his hair in a golden light.

“But you never let me do anything important or dangerous on my own,” you contradicted quietly, which caused Joel to drop his head loosely and close his eyes. “You’re always against taking me with you anywhere, and–”

“That’s because you’re important to me!” he cut you off, evidently louder than he intended, because he immediately glanced at you and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just hard for me to understand how… how did…”

Joel seemed at a loss for words and you longed to touch him, to take the burden of carrying the conversation from his shoulders and ease the weariness on his face, but you weren't really sure what he intended to say. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it almost sounded like…

“I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he said softly at last and you could pinpoint the exact moment you stopped breathing. Joel’s eyes were closed and he was propping his forehead on his hand, and he looked so… sad. “That’s why I never wanted you to take any risk, because if something happened to you and I weren’t there to protect you…”

He swallowed heavily, inhaled, then straightened up and looked over at you. The look he gave you was so tender and open, it was almost difficult to focus on his words.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered, and you remembered what slipped out of your mouth when you were arguing earlier. “A lot. Much more than I should, but I can’t… I can’t help it.” He turned to look forward, his eyes narrowing from the sunlight creeping from between the trees, and he looked so beautiful in that moment, you wished you had a camera on hand.

“Joel,” you breathed, but he shook his head.

“I didn’t want to make shit weird between… us.” He waved his hand in a vague gesture. “So don’t feel pressured into sayin’ anything. Just don’t expect me to idly stand by while you’re risking your life because–”

“Joel,” you repeated, louder this time, which finally made him shut up.

“What?”

You didn’t really know what you were going to say. You just wanted him to stop talking because he was only torturing himself with this ramble and you couldn’t bear it.

Very slowly, and very gently, you took Joel’s hand in your own and moved it over to your lap. Ignoring his eyes on you, you traced the length of his calloused fingers and brushed the center of the palm where a cut from a couple of days ago was still healing. Your heart was beating so damn loud in your ears, you wouldn’t hear if a parade of clickers just walked past you both, but with all your might you tried to keep your breathing steady and your face from going beet red.

He said you were important to him. That he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. He didn’t see you as a burden as you feared, so maybe… maybe he didn’t view you as a kid, as well.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you laced your fingers together and brought them to your lips, leaving a small kiss on his bloodied knuckles. Joel tensed in a split second and you weren't sure if he was still breathing, but you didn’t look at him in fear that his expression may take away the remnants of your temporary courage.

“If I misread you, this is gonna be painfully awkward,” you mumbled in a feeble attempt to defuse the tension in the air, so thick it was almost choking you. “But I’m still grateful you told me all thi–”

His other hand – the same hand he was ready to kill and protect with, with which he was ready to tear his way through the mass of enemies just to save you – lifted itself to your face and cupped your cheek. Joel was looking at you with wonder, the fingers you cradled in your own twitching slightly as if he was holding back from tightening his hold. His eyes seemed like they were made out of liquid gold in the light of the morning sun and he looked at you with such adoration that you once again humored the thought that it was just all some cruel, vivid dream.

But no, it couldn’t have been. Not when Joel’s skin was so cold against your burning face and not when his eyes flickered to your lips…

It was you who leaned in first, but once your lips touched, Joel took the reins, untangling his fingers from yours to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer.

You expected him to be rough and confident, just like he was during a fight, to take what he wanted and devour you – at least that’s how you always imagined kissing him would be like. What you didn’t expect, however, was a trembling sigh that escaped him when you two parted for a moment to take a breath and a gentle touch of his fingertips along your jaw. His hold on your body was by turns firmer and more loose, like he was afraid he’d scare you off if he let himself use too much strength.

You, on the other hand, had no reservations in taking his face in your hands firmly and parting your lips, encouraging him to go on. It seemed to work at first, because Joel pulled you in even closer, letting you crawl onto his lap, but then he stopped abruptly and moved you gently away, still keeping his hands on both sides of your face.

“Darlin’, I need to know if you’re sure about this, because I won’t be able to…”

You pressed your lips to his again, this time much slower and more delicate, in an attempt to silence him. Joel finally relaxed when you cupped his face and planted a kiss on his brow, always so furrowed in concern and worry.

“Joel, I wanted you to kiss me for the whole time I knew you. I really, really care about your bullheaded skull.” You looked down at him with a playful smile, to which he chuckled. “Though you’re shit at sending signals. I was sure you hated me.”

“Well, you are hard to deal with sometimes,” he mused in a teasing tone and you jabbed him in the stomach before he managed to grab your wrist. “But I… I'm sorry that I made you feel this way. Like you didn’t matter to me.”

You furrowed your brows at the uncharacteristic vulnerability and sadness in his voice and your worry must’ve etched itself in your eyes because when Joel looked at you, he turned away and closed his eyes immediately.

“Listen, you know now you matter to me more than anyone else in this cursed world. I don’t want to ever be as worried sick about you like I was yesterday,” he whispered. You brushed some hair off his face and the creases on his forehead softened a little. “And I don’t ever want you to think you’re not important. You’re… fuck, you’re the goddamn reason I’m doing all this. You're my reason, you hear me?”

You just nodded with a wide smile that threatened to split your face in half.

“I understand,” you answered, just as quietly. “You’re also the reason I’m doing all of this for.”

This time it was unclear who initiated the kiss. Nevertheless, you ended up held tightly in his arms, marveling at his touch on your skin and the feeling of his chapped lips on yours, and there wasn’t any other place you wished to be in.

It lasted just a couple of seconds though, because you were interrupted by the sound of fake barfing and gurgles of disgust coming from the direction of your camp.

“Gross!” yelled Ellie loudly, but she had a shit-eating grin on her face when she squinted at Joel holding you in his lap. “Don’t suck faces when there are children present!”

“Shut up!” Joel yelled back, but without any bite in his tone. A soft smile played on his lips when he looked back at you. “She’ll be insufferable now,” he murmured and you snorted at how done he sounded. He mirrored your expression and held your hand to his face to kiss your fingers tenderly, which made Ellie gag even louder.

“If you start making out in front of me, I won’t hesitate to throw a fucking sandwich at you!”

“She won’t,” muttered Joel, not even turning to the teen before he leaned in and kissed you slowly again.

You smiled into the kiss, barely noticing stale pieces of bread flying over Joel’s shoulder.

[novaazurite]

Making my grand return after 3 weeks of inactivity! (Though I may not be active all the time) Lets talk about TPOT 14!

While I did enjoy this episode a lot, the only downside I have with it is how it was a little too fast paced, I can handle that for BFDIA, but I think knowing how TPOT usually is maybe it was a little offputting, I might need to do a rewatch, but I remember a lot from the episode so im still goin with this post.

So with that said...lets start the ramble session!

So I just want to point out how Pencil is clearly living in the past on how obsessed she is to desprately reform FreeSmart by getting Book and Ice Cube, idk why it just feels funny and weird, you can clearly tell how uncomfortable they were in this and last episode that they want nothing to do with her, whatever the hell she did to them in IDFB (im still having thoughts the 'FreeSmart downfall' is gonna hppen in IDFB with Match being the first to leave the LOL.)

Ill admit the shot of the new TCOA was pretty cool, I like it when they implement 3d things into BFDI

Now... onto the CAS. I freaked out so bad in vc when I saw Pin and Ice Cube safe, ik Taggy and Book was gonna be safe so i didnt worry, but felt like Pin was in danger because she couldnt do much being stuck to Gaty, I thought Icy was gonna be out because she was used just to try and kill the fish monster, she couldnt really do much. But OH MY GOD.

I FUCKING GOT IT RIGHT. FOR A WHILE I HAD A FEELING ERASER AND GATY WAS GONNA BE OUT. Ill be honest Eraser didnt have much going on anymore because of Teardrop being eliminated in TPOT 9, so what else did he have left? I dont know exactly, I really had expected him getting out. Now TREE? I didnt expect him to be in the bottom 2, I thought he would be third to last safe, Pin and Gaty being bottom two because both of them didnt do much but be stabbed and used as a weapon by Robot Flower. As much as I love Gaty, I had a feeling she was gonna be out, and finding out I was right about her and Eraser being out made me insanely shocked. The first time I ever got a TPOT prediction right, though I thought One was gonna immediately snatch them up soon after, but good thing Book took notice of it and try to have and her, alongside Pin try to keep Gaty safe. While the others threw Eraser around basically.

Now im glad we got to see the elimination space again, and seeing the others are trying to escape, Fries and Puffball trying to break what seems to be a barrier? Also I noticed Saw, Nickel and Coiny are not there, ik they arent snatched by One but maybe theyre somewhere?

This genuinely made me sad, I had a really good feeling Two was gonna be upset about Gaty being out, I was definetly aware they couldnt bring themself to send her to the elimination space knowing how close she is to them, I didnt expect them to send her to kitchen, however, seeing the scene of One staring at her makes me feel like Two should had sent her there, Gaty is at risk of being snatched, which is gonna upset them even more or hell, send them into a panic, from what ive seen, they seem to brush off the fact Bell/Bomby/Barf Bag/Needle are missing, but what happens if Gaty disappears? Will they try to keep running the show? Theres a lot of predictions you can go off from.

I just wanna show this screenshot its so funny that Taggy is just staring at Book like this 😭😭😭

Glad to see Firey Jr again!

Its funny how DPYA tried to do the same thing from last episode trying to defeat that venus flytrap(?), like sure that would totally work again.

Kind of like how Pin thought doing this again was gonna work in BFDIA 15, LOL.

Closing out my post on the post credits scene, I kind of wonder where the other exitors went. I completely freaked out seeing Match end up in the Pillary Ruins, and this shot here is so cool like.... Knowing last episode we saw Firey and Leafy, are we gonna see more of the BFB contestants again? I wonder what they will have for the plot in future episodes...

And something tells me FreeSmart may reform again, knowing Match is with Ruby and Bubble, and apparently Pencil trying to get Ice Cube and Book back, though its not gonna happen.

[bluespace-writer]

Hello there, this totally isn't the mod of heavyweponguy. But if it's not too much trouble, could you do a heavymedic?

Also, I love your writing

[Thank you for this request stranger that can be @heavyweponguy Hope you enjoy this story!💀✨️]]

Red duo

◇ TF2 Heavy [x]and Medic [Come on. You know what]

◇ some blood and slight gore description

◇ includs Archimedes❗️

"And zhis is how I lost my medical licence!" Medic laughed after ending his repetitive story he was always proud to say.

Heavy laughed as always. Even if he heard Medic's story of how he stole a patients skeleton. He heard it many times, and yet every time, it was entertaining and fun to listen to. Today, Heavy was helping Medic in his workshop, bringing boxes with new animal organs, like zebras lungs or horses hearts. Finally, he picked up a long package, ready to put it into the freezer, but Medic stopped him.

"Ah! Not zhis one. Can you put it on my operation table?"

Without a word, Heavy put a light, wierd, shaped bag on the table, noticing excitement on the doctor's face. When he was opening a package, he looked like a small boy opening his present from Santa on Christmas. But when Medoc revealed what was inside, Heavy's face was in a state of small shock. Inside the bad was the whole body, but it was missing a head.

"Doctor, what is this?" Heavy asked.

"Vell, do you remember zhat team ve vere fightin' with? Vhat was zheir name? Classic, I think. I don't remember really" Medic answered while looking back at his reflection in bonesaw.

"I see. And who body is this?"

"It's Greg's! I couldn't just leave it like zhat! I put my most valuable organs in him after all. It would be a shame to let them go to vaste. Besides, I vas lucky. His body vas parciatly burned to crips!"

Heavy didn't answer to that. Meanwhile, Medic stabbed his bonesaw in TFC Scout's chest, ready to find his missing parts.

"So why is Heavy here?" Heavy asked. On those words, Medic turned around to him as if he had just asked the obvious question.

"To entertain me, of course. I got used to operating on patients who are vel, awake, and vorking in complete silence is boring for me. I vanted to ask Engineer to assist me but he said he didn't have time so that's why I asked you. Here, hold this"

Medic gave Heavy his bonesaw.

"So....what exactly doctor wants to 'regain' back from him?"

"I thought you'll never ask!" Medic's face brightened visibly when he heard the question, as if he was waiting for it to be asked.

"Beside my three baboon uteruses, one kidney, twelve centimetres of cow's intestine. I also put small brain in his left leg. Unfortunately, it was burned, so I can't really bring it back to life again"

"And why is he missing his head? Was there no brain inside too? I wouldn't be surprised"

Medic giggled at Heavy's joke before continuing his work.

"Oh no. His brain simply melted like butter while Pyro was burning him. I tried to make something out of it, but unfortunately, nothing vorked. What a shame- Archimedes no! Give it back!" Medic scouted at his dove, who took peace of liver and flew on lamp, holding it in its beak. Heavy manage to get it back, reaching Archimedes and snatching organ back with his strength.

"Danke! Birds, am I right?" chukle escaped his lips before continuing the operation.

Some time passed, five hours to be precise. Medic was determined to get every last organ he saw in his victims chest, as Heavy was by his side, helping slightly from time to time. Finally, Medic sat down on chair exhausted. Seeing this, Heavy sat down next to him.

"Doctor needs to lay down in his bed"

Medic ignored these words, laying his head over Heavy's shoulder, smirking.

"Nein. I want to stay like zhis" he said, slowly closing his eyes.

"Doctor..."

But it was too late. Medic fell asleep (or probably just acted like he was) in seconds. He was in his comfortable position, laying his head over Heavy's shoulder, refusing to move even an inch. Heavy sighed before closing his eyes, too, knowing that waking his doctor was pointless, so he decided to rest too.

Both of them stayed like that for a while, but later, Heavy woke up again. He looked at the clock, realising how late it is, yet he couldn't just let himself and Medic sleep on chairs. So, Heavy stood up and picked up Medic, and walked to their shared room.

Finally, he arrived at the big room, laying Medic on bed, and Heavy himself layed down next to him. Why? Medic is known to sleepwalk, so Heavy to prevent this sleeps with him, holding him down. Last time he wasn't, Scout screamed because he was standing above his bed with the übersaw and wide crazy smile. Heavy glanced at the doctor's face before closing his eyes, this time falling asleep quickly. Both of them hold each other close, enjoying this comfortable time together...

[The end! Hope you like it! Tell me in comments what do you think!💀🌌]

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Film Studies Slashers Part One

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Words: 2839

Summary: With her revenge plot foiled by campus killers beating her to the punch, the reader investigates the killings only to find that her boyfriend is one of the murderers. This proves to be rather useful in her mission to kill Gale Weathers… until Mickey’s partner takes matters into her own hands. 

Notes: Listen… I’m just going to leave this here. Judge me if you will, but remember that this is Timothy Olyphant and the man is beautiful. Plus, Mickey is one of the best Ghostfaces. I’m obviously tweaking some things, but I’m not gonna lie, I actually hate Gale so I was okay writing the reader hating her. I’m going to have to do some tweaking with which is which Ghostface in certain scenes, but I’ll try to make it make sense. I don’t know how much of this I’ll get done, but it’s honestly a blast to write. (I also have a finished Mickey fluff so keep an eye out for that) Happy Halloween! 

-

The campus was dead. Pardon the pun, of course, but there was no other way to describe it. With everyone terrified of the killer, going out at night was out of the question for most of the student body. 

You hoped he found you. This fucker was stealing your thunder and you were pissed as hell. You had spent too many years sucking up to Sidney fucking Prescott to have your revenge stolen by some Stu Macher wannabe. 

Granted, your plan also involved some significant stabbing, but you needed to make sure that this new guy didn’t beat you to the punch. Whoever it was. 

“You shouldn’t be out here by yourself, you know,” a voice whispered from the dark. “You never know what kind of weirdos come out at night.” 

“Other than you, you mean?” You snarked back, leaning against the streetlamp you stood under. 

Mickey stepped into the light. A sly smile spread across his lips.

“Says the one wandering around in the dark armed with…” he reached into your satchel with one hand and ran a finger up your arm with the other, making you shiver. Mickey pulled out your notebook and flipped through the pages. 

You winced as his eyes scanned your notes on all of the killings, including pictures of all of the victims so far. 

He cocked a brow. “Maybe I should be worried for my own safety. Tell me, Y/N.” He held up your page with a picture of Sidney. “Are you the killer?” 

You snatched the notebook back. “Very funny, asshole.” 

“I’m being totally serious. That is like Serial Killer 101. You should know, Little Miss Legal Studies,” Mickey teased.

You took a step toward him, looking up at him through your lashes with a darkened gaze. 

“I guess that means you should start running, huh?”

He returned your stare, eyes bright and challenging. He put his hands on your shoulders and crashed his lips against yours. You wasted no time either, fingers lacing through his dark hair and deepening the kiss until you forgot where you were. You forgot about the killer. You forgot about Woodsboro. Most of all, you forgot about Gale Weathers. 

“What are you thinking about?” He muttered against the skin of your jaw. 

You poked his side. “Stabbing and death,” you teased. “You?”

His mouth opened in mock surprise and spoke with a sing-song tone. “Would you believe me if I said the same thing?” 

You laughed, shaking your head. 

“We are seriously fucked up, huh?” You laced your fingers through his and started walking back down the path. 

“But that’s why we work so well.” 

Mickey twirled you around, pulling you into his arms again to bury his face in your neck, playfully nipping. 

“We have to get to that stupid party,” you said, pulling away again.

He pouted. 

You rolled your eyes. “I promised Sidney I’d save her from the sorority swarm.” 

“You don’t even like her.”

“I do too.”

“No, you don’t,” he argued, tone still teasing. “And you’ve never actually told me why.” He tried to urge you back to him, but you resisted, a darkness suddenly settling over you. 

“It’s a long story,” you said. 

He held up his hands innocently. “Okay.” His head tilted in curiosity, but he didn’t press the issue. 

“We really should get going”

“Actually,” he clapped his hands together, “I will catch up with you.” You opened your mouth to protest. “I know, I know, but I promise I’ll be quick. I just have this project I have to finish up for class first.”

“Since when do you care about homework?”

“Babe,” he smiled, “it’s for film theory.”

You crossed your arms, frowning. You already weren’t looking forward to this fucking mixer and you certainly weren’t looking forward to going without your usual partner in crime. Mickey wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, kissing you in between every word. 

“I. Will. Be. Right. There,” he promised. “And then we can make fun of every shitfaced frat boy there.” 

You sighed dramatically. “Fine. But I’m getting drunk without you.” 

“Fair enough.” He kissed you one more time. “I’ll see you there.” 

He went back toward his dorm, you went to the sorority house, both of you taking different paths into the night. 

-

If one more preppy girl came up to you with her stupid smile and her stupid small talk and a stupid sweater tied around her stupid neck, you were going to use that sweater to strangle her. 

Two of them were talking to Sidney, who kept looking at you to save her. 

You gave her an encouraging thumbs up and downed the rest of your drink. You weren’t sure what was in it, but it was sure working. 

“Empire Strikes Back.” A familiarly smug voice said across the yard. “It was a better story, improved effects.”

You looked up, finding Randy talking to your oh-so-late boyfriend. Now that was a blue sweater you wanted nothing more than to rip off. 

“Not a sequel,” Randy corrected. “It was part of a trilogy. Completely planned.”

Mickey rolled his eyes and spotted you in the process. He grinned. You scowled. He crossed the yard towards you. 

“It’s been foooooreeever,” you drawled, tongue weighed down by the cheap liquor. He sat on the bench beside you. 

“The assignment took longer than I thought, baby,” Mickey said, putting your drink aside and pulling you into his lap. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Your lips latched onto his neck, fingers tracing along the edge of that silly blue sweater. Mickey took your wandering hands in his. 

“Easy, tiger. What would your little Woodsboro friends think?”

“Who fucking cares?” You grabbed the collar of his sweater and pulled his lips back to yours. He didn’t argue again, hands cupping your face and body pressed against yours. You seemed to stay like that for hours, barely even coming up for air. 

Everyone else disappeared. Until-

“Something happened.”

“Not. Now. Randy.” You said in between kisses, annoyance clear in your still tipsy tone. 

Randy put a hand on Mickey’s shoulder and pulled him away. The look the other boy gave him made him take a step back. Between Mickey’s glare and the news that broke up the party, his nerves were more than a little on edge. 

“Listen, sorry to interrupt your little sex party over here, but there are cop cars around the Omega Beta Zeta house. And I’ve got a really bad feeling.” He looked at you pointedly. 

Unlike your hometown buddies, you could care less about the latest killer’s hobbies. But where there was a killer, there were bloodthirsty journalists. 

You clenched your jaw. “Fine. Let’s go find out who else got sliced and diced, huh?”

Mickey helped you up, keeping his fingers laced with yours as everyone rushed toward the doors. 

Across the street, people swarmed in flashing red and blue. News vans clogged the driveway. You stopped moving. Your grip on your boyfriend’s hand tightened. 

“What the fuck is she doing here?” 

Across the street was the sobering sight of one Gale Weathers. She was heckling some other woman who had her back towards you. 

“She was here earlier today,” Halle said. “Totally blindsided Sidney by bringing Cotton Weary to campus.”

“Gale’s here with Cotton?” You exclaimed. 

First, a new killer starts mimicking the movie based on her fucking book, and now she’s harassing the survivors by bringing up the past. 

Your plan might have to happen sooner than you thought. 

“Don’t worry,” Halle added with a smirk, “Sidney already gave her a piece of her mind.” She made the motion of a punch. 

“Did you know about this?” You turned to Mickey, whose eyes were fixed across the way. 

The woman talking to Gale hurried off. 

Mickey’s thumb rubbed the back of your hand. “I didn’t want to upset you.”

“Well, I’m upset now!” 

His phone started buzzing. “Shit.” 

Your anger shifted into fear, gruesome memories rushing through your head. Your eyes widened as he answered. 

“M-Mickey…” You tugged on his arm anxiously. 

He listened to the voice on the other side and mouthed “It’s fine.” He brought your hand to his lips as another reassurance. 

“I have to take this, I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes darted between you and the crowd. “Stay here.”

 Mickey stepped away, leaving you with the others to watch the chaos at the other sorority house. That’s when you saw that familiar head of chunky highlights heading towards you. 

“Fucking bitch,” you muttered to yourself and headed back to the Delta Lambda Zeta house. With Derek the guard dog at the front door, you decided to go around back to avoid any real interaction with Sidney’s boyfriend. Pitying looks was the last thing you needed from the frat prince. 

You didn’t see the flash of black until it overtook you.  

And, suddenly, it all came back. 

You saw the face of Billy Loomis as you ripped off the stupid, elongated white mask. He smirked down at you. 

“I always had a bit of a hard-on for you, Y/N,” he sneered, slowly pushing the knife into your side. He put a hand over your mouth to silence your screams. “I mean, Syd’s great and all but, the principal's daughter?” He chuckled. “I mean, it sounds like something out of a movie.” 

He took out the knife and started again. 

You stared up at that same mask as it hovered over you, arm raised with the same curved knife that almost killed you. 

“Not this time you sonofabitch,” you spat and used all of your strength to bring your knee up into your attacker’s stomach. 

They cried out and fell to the grass beside you, but not before they got a solid swipe at your side, sliding through your shirt down to the skin. A familiar, hot sting radiated from the spot and you screamed. You screamed like hell.

“Mickey!” One hand clawed at the ground to pull you away, the other clamped over your now bleeding wound. “Derek! Mickey! Anybody! Help me!” 

“Y/N?” Sydney’s voice called from inside the house. 

Ghostface whipped around at the sound. 

“Syd, run!” You shrieked. 

A flash of blue sweater came around the corner just as a large black boot stomped the side of your head. Memories and darkness took over, all speaking with the altered voice of your nightmares.

-

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He wasn’t supposed to care. But with every stirring motion, the traitor in his chest jumped. 

Your eyes fluttered open and Mickey let out a sigh of relief. 

“There she is,” he smiled. “I was starting to wonder if this was going to turn into a The Dead Zone situation.”

“Well, I don’t know, do I have any powers?” You asked wearily, looking around at your surroundings. You were in the emergency room. Guess they figured your injuries weren’t too serious to take you to surgery. You felt at the bandage on your side, letting the haze in your head clear before you sat up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You swung your legs over the side of the hospital bed and started to stand, ignoring every sore limb telling you not to. 

“Hey, I don’t think you're supposed to do that, babe,” Mickey said, putting a hand out to stop you.

“I’m not staying here so everyone can gawk at me like a zoo animal, Mickey,” you snapped. “Especially when Gale fucking Weathers is in town.” 

“I won’t let her anywhere near you.”

Your eyes blazed. “I don’t want your help.” 

Something flashed in his eyes. Something you’d never seen before. Something that made you sit down again. 

But just as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Mickey looked at the ground. 

“I’m going to go check on Derek. He got cut up by the guy that attacked Sidney.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think she’s probably more freaked out than he is, so I should probably talk to her too.”

He left you in the hospital room feeling like a total bitch. 

-

Mickey stretched his sore limbs as he stepped into the unlocked apartment. He should really remind you to lock that. There were psychos running around. 

“Y/N?” He called into the dark. “Baby, you here?” 

“In here,” you spoke through a gasp. 

Mickey dropped his bag at the foot of the bed, looking at the light pooling out of the ajar bathroom door. He could just see your frame standing in front of the mirror. Your shirt was off and your fingers were peeling up the bandage that the hospital put on the gash in your side. 

“Hey, I don’t think you should be doing that-” Mickey started, pushing the door open all the way. 

He stopped, seeing the reflection of your tear-filled eyes looking back at him. 

You swiped at your cheeks with the back of your hand and turned around to face him, displaying your new wound, along with marks of old ones. Three long, jagged lines along your torso. 

He imagined Billy sticking a knife in you and unconsciously clenched his fists. 

“It brought it all back,” you said through gritted teeth. “I promised myself I would never be that scared again and today I felt like that weak, pathetic high school girl again.” You ran your fingers over the scars, flinching as you touched the angry, red stitched-up cut on your side. “All because of her.”

Mickey’s brows drew together. 

You took a breath and jutted out your chin. “Gale Fucking Weathers.” 

“Wait.” He ran a hand down his face, almost laughing. “You just got stabbed and curb-stomped by a guy dressed in the same outfit that someone who stabbed you- and almost killed you- was wearing and you’re freaked out about a journalist.” 

“I’ve looked killers in the eye before, baby,” you snapped. “But Gale Weathers is a goddamn necromancer. She brought Billy Loomis and Stu Macher back from the dead and now they’re going to outlive all of us.”

“Babe-” He started to reach out to you, but you pushed past him. 

“And we can’t forget about Sidney,” you exclaimed. “Poor, perfect Sidney, the tragic hero of the story. It’s all about her.” You paced back and forth, anger boiling out any soreness you might still have felt. “It’s like nobody else made it out. Randy’s a plot device, Dewey is a joke, and me-” You whipped around with eyes on fire. “I’m not even in it!” You picked up one of Mickey’s shoes, knocking over his backpack, and threw it at a picture on your wall. A photo from high school- with you, Sidney, and Tatum. 

Mickey hurried toward you and grabbed your wrist in each hand. 

“She wrote me out of my life.” You fought against him, refusing to let him see you cry, but his grip was too strong. “That bitch wrote me out of my own life and now she’s back to do it all over again.” 

“We won’t let her,” Mickey said, his own rage starting to surface. He tightened his hold so much it almost hurt. “Gale Weathers is just another hack who will get what’s coming to her and someone else will turn it into just another story.” He let go of your wrists and moved his hands to your face. “I promise, baby.” 

His dark eyes held that same look you saw in the hospital. It should have scared you. Instead, it pushed you into him, crashing your lips against his and pulling his body against yours despite the slight pain in your side. Maybe you just needed to put all of your roiling energy to good use. And Mickey was more than happy to help. 

-

Mickey got in the shower with a head clouded full of feelings he didn’t know what to do with. He wanted to kill that reporter bitch- not because it would be the kind of poetic justice perfect for his plan, but because she had hurt you. Everything was getting too complicated. 

He wrapped a towel around his waist and went back to your bedroom, finding you at the foot of the bed, hunched over and holding something in your hand. 

“I thought you were too tired to move,” he teased. “But if you’re up for another round, then I am-”

He stopped as you stood. 

The cloak spilled out of the backpack. The knife glinted at your feet. The Ghostface mask gaped back at him in your hands.

Mickey swallowed. “I can explain that.”

You walked towards him, eyes wide and chin held high. Your gaze burned a hole in his panicking heart. Mickey gritted his teeth. He wasn’t supposed to panic. He wasn’t supposed to feel. 

You shoved the mask against his chest. 

“Y/N…” He searched for the words, more for himself than for you. 

You spoke firmly and coolly, like reading a movie line. “I want in.” 

[skzinka]

“ IT'S TIME FOR CONFRONTATION ” ft. bang chan

timeline : december, 2021

synopsis : it's time for chan to face the consequences of his decision towards inka.

word count : 1.1k>

« can we talk? » inka's voice was sharp, as sharp as the blade of a kitchen knife. chan frowned, turning his face to the younger woman who had her arms crossed against her chest. she seemed preoccupied, hurt, angry, but the leader could not say why.

when she turned to go to a room farther away, out of sight, he trotted behind her to join her, not really sure what she suddenly wanted to talk to him about. as he locked the door behind him, inka had her back to him, sighing loudly enough for him to hear her.

« so.. » she began softly, finally deigning to face chan who still seemed to be in total incomprehension, « when were you going to tell me? »

the young adult raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side to show his incomprehension. inka stuck her tongue against the inside of her cheek, trying her best not to strangle him. approaching little by little, she kept her arms crossed against her chest, almost digging her nails into her skin to avoid any inappropriate gestures. « you really don't know what i'm talking about? » she continued in a cold tone, which made the older man's blood run cold.as far as he could remember, he had only seen inka this scary and angry once — and he clearly didn't want to deal with her in those moments.

« if i tell you, lee minho and me, you understand a little more? » and suddenly, chan seemed to lose all his means, not knowing what to say or do. removing his hands from his pockets, he observed for a long time the furious look of the young woman facing him, and he understood that she knew everything, « listen, kalaya, i can- »

« uh uh, no. you listen to me. » she said in a nervous laugh, approaching him with a decided step, pointing her accusing index finger on his chest, « i would never have believed it coming from you, you can't even imagine how mad i am at you. »

chan didn't know what to say, he just stood there listening to her, accepting the fact that he had probably screwed up on this one. « not only did you not think for a second about the harm that this decision could do to me, but on top of that you asked minho not to tell me about your decision?! » — resumed inka with a cracking and broken voice, hitting his chest with her finger. it felt like stabbing to chan, who felt terribly guilty.

« i never thought you would put the safety of your career before the happiness of your friend, » suddenly, inka began to sob in anger, walking away from him and pacing the room, « of all the people around me, you are the last person i thought would do this to me, chan. »

chan felt his heart clench in his chest, like an insurmountable bad pain. his arms remained loose along his chest, while he dared to take a step towards the girl, who – unfortunately for him, took a step backwards.

« no, don't. i am extremely disappointed, you have no idea how much.. » sniffing with her back to him, inka tried to find a distraction outside to stop herself from crying, « you could have told me about it, everything would have been easier. »

« and what? would you have listened to me? » answered chan, who suddenly found himself quite annoyed. he knew he had made a difficult decision, but it was surely not the wrong one. biting her lip to keep from screaming, inka looked at the leader with venom in her eyes, shaking her head negatively, « of course not. that's why you talked to minho instead of me. »

« you're still a kid, you wouldn't have understood my decision. » he tried to defend himself, but the further we went, the more his words sank in. he had no real argument, and being gratuitously hurtful was not the answer. « i am still a kid? » — a scoff left the brunette's lips as she pointed her index at herself, raising an eyebrow brazenly.

chan sighed as he came to rub his temples, he was sorely missing his patient at the moment, this situation tending him bitterly. « listen kalaya, you had just debuted in our group, a love scandal would not have been good for our career. »

« oh come on, everyone has the right to be in love, and it's not because i'm a kpop idol that i don't have the right to be happy. » chan seemed to be really losing his patience, then he approached inka, placing his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place, despite her protests, « listen to me now. »

« you would have wanted to fuck up everything for a passing infatuation? people would not have taken you seriously anymore. » inka watched him for a long time, harshly and coldly, and he swore that if her eyes could shoot lightning, he would have been six feet under for a long time. then she pushed him as hard as she could, almost knocking him backwards. « minho wasn't just a passing infatuation, » she says while joining the door of the room, ready to leave, before she turns back a few seconds, « i was destroyed and you didn't care. »

« do you realize that i have waited a whole year to know the truth? that i spent entire nights crying and wondering what i had done wrong to make him stop loving me? do you realize how unhappy i was? » a sniff from the girl drew the boy's attention, who placed his sorry gaze on her tear-painted face, which made her instantly regret confiding in someone who didn't give a shit about her well-being, « forget that. you wouldn't understand. »

« but, you know what hurts me the most? the fact that you didn't even try to trust me. » furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks, kalaya bit her lip so hard that it end up bleeding, but she continued to speak all the same, ignoring the metallic taste that intruded in her mouth, « now that i understand that your career is more important than your friend's happiness, i don't want to deal with you anymore. i'm done. »

a sigh left her lips as she finally left the room, leaving a dejected chan behind. he felt bad, helpless and defeated, as if the whole weight of the world was crushed on his shoulders. he didn't know how he could fix things, but he had to find a solution as soon as possible, otherwise, everything could quickly get out of hand.

but apart from that, one question kept running through his head : what did she mean by, “i'm done”?

✧⠁taglist : @invuwrld @writerblock-sucks @mynameisnotlaura @alyszaen @felixsbrat @alixnsuperstxr

[werezmastarbucks]

being friends with barry allen headcanons (timeline)

you meet at the college

barry allen x reader (reaching)

long, with a plot, I liked this format hehe

you actually look for someone to help you with your ***problem***

and you notice this weird smart guy who's kinda sociable but doesn't really have a lot of friends

you hear he's somewhat of a physics and chemistry genius and is going for some kind of super scholarship for his master's

that's exactly what you need

he's happy to get a new friend and it's quite comfortable with him

it's obvious he's not very good with people as he can come off as awkward and obsessive at times

also he talks like a lot and sometimes it gets really overwhelming

however most of the times he says really smart or observant things and soon you find that appreciating him is easy

he's almost always in a good mood and would do anything to make you smile

he's sooo in his own world. you're amazed at how people around don't even scratch the surface on Barry

you share music

the two weird queers vibe

the happy, bubbly, adhd x the moody, approach me and i stab you vibe

Barry wonders why you don't like going out much and when you two talk about all these things you missed out on in your lives, it's apparent he's more accomplished than you, and he's just very sweetly curious about it

he listens to k-pop because it's fast, bright, energetic, like him

he LOVES texting about nothings

it's just beep beep beep all day long

sometimes he starts repeating the same thing and it gets insufferable

he's texting you random things that come to his mind

twice a month though he gets very serious; that's the only thing he doesn't like sharing

you kinda laugh at everybody when you get together

you name your alliance 'loser nerds'

you've no idea how much in common you actually have

he eats all the time and always finishes your food if you have a bigger portion than what you can eat

he's kinda self-aware, highly empathetic and reads people easily. he just doesn't click with them, or, rather, they don't want to click with him

he helps you with science tests

tried tutoring you - you're very unproductive together. you end up watching youtube and deciding to go get food every time

you reeeeaally like his smile, it's so child-like in a good way

he thinks that "like if you were a girl you would be really cute and intimidating, I mean, you are a girl, but not in that way, well, you understand what I mean yeah?"

i mean like if you were... a... and I was...

what I mean is you're very uh, like, your pHYsicAl bOdY...

you cut his torture short by saying you undertsnad he means you're pretty

he gets extremely nervous when you don't prepare for tests properly though

he's like, very focused and dedicated for a guy with such short attention span

has a new 'micro crush' every week and you discuss them, then he forgets about them

he is late everywhere, all of the time

couple of times he just forgets about your plans and you end up waiting for him at the station, or at the park, for an hour

he's a good friend though, he's got otherwise good memory, he is just easily distracted

he remembers important things you tell him, his brain is like a computer

totally judging people together, having the whole gatherings for discussing the tea

when you're bored you send him a message "requesting AI Barry" and Barry pretends to be an AI and messages you a bunch of physics and astronomy facts. he is really good at mimicking AI

he wouldn't pass the Turing test lol

longingly looking at your lunch

he's suspiciously strong and lean for a nerd who just exists in the college, at a coffeeshop and at home, and eats every time you lay your eyes on him

he gets very, very sad sometimes

it takes him a long time to open up about his family

he's surprisingly non-awkward and non-needy when he talks about his father. it feels like the goal of his life is to prove him innocent, and he doesn't even care what you think about it, in a good way

"I'll do it one day"

he generally comes through with his promises, if he doesn't forget

as a friend, he's most appreciative of your intelligence and wit, because he gets bored easily

he may be a bit harsh when talking about people sometimes. like when he starts whining that a line is long

he's very self-sufficient AND clingy at the same time

he looks like a person with a secret, but you can't figure out what it is

huge hugs and awkward supportive taps on the back or the stomach. he doesn't seem to know that you can touch a girl in a friendly way and not make it weird.

he calls you “moody brollerina” referring to your usual unsociable disposition. you call him “science boy”

having a secret code language consisting of shortened versions of slang words

no idea where you'd use it as nobody really gives a shit about you two

after months and months of bonding, you open up to him about the reason you approached him in the first place

you tell him that at eight years old you had had an accident after which you got the most horrible ability one could imagine

at thirteen years old you made your dad vanish during a fight. your father always hated you, your family was extremely dysfunctional; still, it's not a reason to make your own old man disappear together with a kitchen stool, right?

you discovered you had this terrifying ability to make things, and people, vanish. at first, for several years, you 'vanished' nine other people. those were only the people who scared you; the phenomenon seemed to be triggered by extreme fright and discomfort

you lived your whole life trying to come up with some explanation, you were terrified even just to live. because you had no idea where this power came from and what moment it would manifest itself again. every day you spent in terror that some banal occurrence will trigger you and you'll vanish innocent people

Barry is excited, preoccupied, astonished at what he is hearing. you do the confession in the lab, because that's the place you can most frequently find him at

you expect disappointment because, being honest, you specify that you decided to become friends with him in hopes that he'll be intelligent enough to crack this puzzle

Barry only hears "I can make people disappear"

it's a bit scary but, more importantly, "completely balooney and amazing" for him; he sees something in it immediately

but before he gets to the point, his face lights up and he says,

"you know it's funny that you chose me specifically, because..."

he tells you that he also has superabilities and demonstrates it

you stare at each other in the moment of mutual amazement

you're now the 'super loser nerds'. you can't believe you managed to find each other AND both be... super?

you don't consider yourself super, but Barry thinks otherwise

he doesn't really grasp the whole scale of the unending torture this gift brought to you; he just sees sci-fi come true

he immediately assumes you're somehow able to create black holes and control the process of closing them

he gets to work; ideas swarm his head; he gets hyperfixated on it

it's incredible to see that he thinks no less of you; even though you told him everything you've done and how some of those people you vanished, were really bad, and you actually wished them to disappear

you hadn't vanished anyone in ten years though.

now, as you even so much as shared this secret with someone, the iron grip on your mind is loosened just a little bit. it didn't hurt that Barry did not push you away but offered an alternative view

as he's building the device that may possibly help track the process, he says,

you're not just a medical miracle; you're a cosmic paradox

in the middle of building the device, he slaps himself on his face and says

goddamn I'm slow. pun intended. I can actually watch you do it, right? I can observe at superspeed

you're afraid that the experiment, should it be conducted, can go terribly wrong. you had never done it intentionally. you hadn't done it in ten years. no witnesses were ever present. it's unprecedented, awfully dangerous, impossible in your mind

for weeks Barry is forced to beg you; after all, you came to him for answers, and that would be impossible without action. so, you finally agree it's only logical

as you prepare for the experiment, you think about how Barry is the first friend you've had in years. and how the last thing you want to do now is utilize the curse of a power that's been given to you, in any vicinity of him.

you look at how he is putting on his heavy dark red costume he'd built himself and how he is actually even cooler than you thought all this time. he's actually helping people, and he is building his own equipment. he's not some forsaken freak with this demonic, haunting burden. you remember you actually read some quiet rumors on obscure websites about his existence

you don't want him standing in the room while you do this; Barry wants to step really close to the cup you're about to vanish. you argue for an hour before he finally convinces you. he begs you to trust his abilities, showering you with all these physics terms and expressions you don't understand

maybe it's fate? he asks. that we should meet and I will be the one who can actually help you

he clearly doesn't get how deep this sinkhole is; how absolutely chthonic and cosmically scary it is, when you make something vanish. without a sound, or explosions, it just suddenly disappears, never to return again

finally you agree on ten steps. you put the cup on the desk, and Barry gets to superspeed. you see blue electrical flashes engulf him

for the first time in ten years, you do it, and it's easy, like breathing. the cup disappears, and Barry is seemingly still standing on the same spot, only, now his eyes are huge

his best theory is, you do create a macro black hole. the object gets condensed so badly that its atoms begin to dissolve, but for a normal human eye it's too quick. but at his superspeed, he did see it. the cup dissipating in the air while the space around it was warping.

he looks like it's the happiest day of his life, like he's about to cry

he holds your hands, ignoring the trauma this experiment has awoken in you, but you let it slide, because he says that you, and only you, might be the answer to every question in the world. you can operate matter.

this is not about you anymore. this is about the universe

he gets to work again

he builds these multiple devices that are supposed to track the object up until the moment it vanishes through the hole. it shows the characteristic spike of radiation strictly in the spot where the vanishing occurs

single-handedly Barry turns your understanding of what you are, upside down. he says a lot of things he doesn't deem too important, but you listen to his words

he calls you quantum miracle, cosmic phenomenon, the answer to all, the space-time fairy. no one has ever called you that

at the worst days, you debate the moral complications of your power. he is trying to imagine what it's like to not technically kill people but... erasing them

he tells you about one event that weighs on him

when he was 18, right after he got his powers, he still hadn't got the whole scoop of what they really are. he wanted to protect a lady who was being assaulted, and pushed the guy while on superspeed.

the guy, he said, exploded, banging against the building, like a meat bag.

you're trying to imagine Barry the summer child, eighteen years old, looking at what he's done, and realize it must have been very heavy

he looks at you like you're special, not like you're this volatile creature that should be locked away

you bond way stronger than before

you now keep each other's secret and protect each other more

him being Barry, he goes overboard a little

once he scares off a guy from your faculty who's been annoying you

it annoys you instead, you feel like Barry is too close, takes too much upon himself, is trying to control you

you continue testing, experimenting. the device works only as long; the moment the object disappears, the tracking is useless as its atoms get broken down into smaller particles

Barry feels, as he watches the recorded process in electromagnetic spectrum, that this is the most important breakthrough of all time

it adds him a lot of points that he never begs you to reveal your power to the world; to go to the big scientists, or on TV, or start 'saving people together'. he is happy having this huge thing all to himself. there's a lot to unpack and research anyway, before any kind of consistent conclusion can be achieved.

one spring day, as you sit at home, Barry calls you, which is unusual. he's a texting guy

he whispers "So I am here with the Batman..."

he asks if you want to go somewhere and meet someone, some robots, and team, and some apocalypse thing - it's very confusing because Barry is mumbling and stuttering

he is gathering a team of people like you and me! you finally manage to get something coherent out of him

but you're not like him

Barry is fast, he's smart, he can utilize his gift to help people

you can only harm them

he promises to message you asap and the next day, the news start getting out, about some planetary cataclysms.

in a couple of days, you start getting messages from him

in a week, he's at your door

he says that there are others like you and him, you notice how he presses on the 'you and him', like you're similar, but you know, and he knows, that he is only saying it not to exclude you. even optimistic Barry understands that you're not like Aquaman, Wonder Woman or the Cyborg, or even slightly radioactive Superman

you are very proud of your friend. soon, it's the summer of graduation, and now you're both free. you spend days searching for a job and living in this new world, where Barry is on a team of superheroes, and you also have your shred of hope

your new life has begun when he proved that a) you can control it, b) it's not solely apocalyptic, it's also universal

you have fallen for him the moment he offered you his last piece of chewing gum, which happened a month after you became friends

actually

you get really drunk closer to autumn. you do, Barry can't. he just hangs out with you the whole night and has no problem having fun anyway. he watches you get drunk, drags you across the street to a karaoke, where you two sing "dumb ways to die" and become local stars

he brings you to his place in the morning just to be sure you're okay

he hasn't seen anyone in his bed for... ever. he's a nerd, he doesn't get to date.

to make you comfortable, he takes off your shoes, your hoodie (very carefully), and unbuttones your jeans

when you wake up, you're touched by his adorable care

Barry always tells you about the Team, all the time, and you listen to these stories like a child

you watch him mature in front of you

but you still dissect the Justice League and discuss each member; they all get their nicknames and memes associated with them

you both call Wonder Woman the Crush. no explanation needed

Superman is Captain Blue Pyjamas

you come up with the Flash, remembering how electricty flows around when Barry is moving at the superspeed. he is ecstatic at this name

at this point, the physical aspect between you two is still surprisingly awkward. you're not very accustomed to touch while Barry craves it; as a result you do a lot of hugs that are too long, touches that are in all the wrong places, and uneasy, comical, supporting pat-pats.

the only time Barry acts extremely confidently and on point is when he is the Flash. his the Flash persona is just on another level of precision. that's probably because superspeed is more natural to him than human speed.

when he is still hot from the run, he is actually... sexy?

he has a habit of giving you very long looks while he's thinking.

when you ask what he's staring at he says the view of you helps him concentrate

you get sad because you feel like when you look at him, you see super-Barry, your peer, your friend, a pretty guy, a fighter, a geek

but when he looks at you, he sees the quantum miracle, and that's why you inspire him

after a year he's still going on about your power, and black holes, and multiverse travel

he also still makes you laugh and forgets about plans, and then apologizes with huge amounts of food

you feel like the Justice League knows about you, but you're never approached by anybody; you suspect Barry protects you very well, and you're grateful for that

but you inevitably start feeling more and more distant from him. Justice League, his job, the thoughts about his father take so much time that he's constantly running somewhere

you, in comparison, with your part-time job, feel like you do nothing at all

to lift your spirits, he'd give you a pat on the back and say, 'super loser nerds for life!'

but you're not his only friend anymore. he is now friends with Victor, and Superman seems really cool, and the Batman seems to help him out a lot. he meets new people at work, and, as he's more confident now, makes new friends

he's still your only friend because you have an adamant habit of staying away from people

the little weird happy bubble of loser nerds has burst

for the first time in your life, you want to be normal and participate, but unfortunately now Barry doesn't have too much time for it

he is trying, because he still is passionately your friend

you meet in free hours, at the coffeeshops, for an occasional walk almost at night; it doesn't hurt that he can run through the whole city in seconds

you still talk about space, and matter, and movies, and food, and your ex college peers, but now it's more like old people's mumbling because both of you have changed

these conversations are warmer, quieter, Barry acts mature more often, and also touches your hand more

he's still the happy energetic boy

at some point you understand your two worlds drift away from each other very slowly

he feels your sadness more and more often and, in his Barry manner, tries to drill your head through with questions

inevitably, there's a catastrophe next to you sooner or later. in the world where superheroes exist, their presence attracts supervillains and disasters. Barry actually has done some research about the statistics of causes-consequences when he wanted to get a rest from exams.

you ride to the Gotham City on your day off to see the Superman installation.

you like it very much for some reason; it's the open space, the quiet luxury of skyscrapers around, the green park, or the installation itself.

this is the exact day when something decides to crash about ten buildings in the centre of the city

you always dread situations like this because you don't know what to expect from yourself

you'd lived in this eggshell, safe and isolated, for ten years, Barry excluded, and always your worst nightmare was getting in the middle of some big collision

you panic, you rush here and there, the screams and the vibration of the ground, the thundering sound makes you lose your mind

you try calling Barry but he doesn't pick up

not until it's too late

you try to think quickly; if you run, you're a coward; if you try to vanish the damage, people might disappear and die; if you vanish everyone, you'll be a monster

so you freeze

you see three figures hovering above in the sky; looking scary. they look like the evil Justice League: a woman with long hair, resembling a witch; a strong man; and someone little, like Barry

maybe it's time to die, you think. you feel very alone

he calls back and it sounds like he's running. Barry is shouting, begging you to tell him you're not in Gotham

you're stunned he remembers your plans

in seconds, he's next to you, and the shockwave of him stopping actually knocks you off your feet

falling, you're still looking at the insidious figures in the sky, and you get so frightened, that they disappear

Barry panickes as well, he's very good at it, but he's thinking

I'm gonna zap you, okay? I have to zap you and carry you away, you can't vanish all those people

you agree; he gives you a zap of electricity; and finally you're at peace, at least for some time

when you wake up, Gotham City is quiet. You lay in the soft comfort of someone's car.

the Justice League is there and they're finishing with the rescue

regardless of the destruction and the ruins of ten massive buildings, they seem pretty happy

Barry is fucking exhausted, he's chewing something and looks half dead, and still, he's happy to see you

when you emerge and look for them, he runs at you, introducing you to the others. You see Batman, which seems unreal, the Crush is also there, and Captain Blue Pyjamas. Barry's new best friend Cyborg, and hairy, angry Aquaman.

Barry puts his arm around your shoulders, so driven to the edge and tired that he barely understands what is happening

this is my... my... Y/N

you feel his hand squeeze your shoulder like he's about to faint.

he whispers super loser nerds

you look at how the others observe you; some with curiosity, others, with amazement. Diana the Crush is smiling softly

why are they looking at me like that Barry?

because you got rid of half of the Injustice League, brollerina

is that one of our funny nicknames? Injustice League?

unfortunately, it's not

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 177

Chapter 177: "Mother"

This chapter.. this damn chapter never fails at getting me emotional. I'm still so very upset that Isabella dies this way too when we had other characters such as Emma and Barbara also get impaled by fierce demons and survive with their scars, so why not my queen huh?? I know there's that whole neverland fairy tale idea where adults aren't allowed there, which would've been an interesting concept for our series given the several adult deaths we had already, but that would've cancelled out some of the oldest Goldy Pond kids who are already older than 18 at this point. However, with how Emma phrased the new promise to allow all humans raised as food to cross over into the human world, there wouldn't have been any issue. Isabella could've easily joined them then, like c'mon Shirai, couldn't ya at least let these kids have one parent join them, please? They already lost Yuugo and Lucas, we didn't need to add another!

As if stabbing this woman wasn't enough, this bastard goes on to taunt her, saying that she'll never make up for her past mistakes no matter how hard she tries. First off, to hell with this guy. Secondly, that's such nonsense. I know this moment is supposed to be seen as "Isabella's big redemption moment," but it totally didn't need to happen this way. I'm gonna sound like a broken record when I say this, but this woman's redemption arc started way back when she first admitted defeat on the wall while watching her precious children escape GF. From gathering the ropes they used so the demons wouldn't know which direction they ran, to secretly planning an entire uprising within the farm system in hopes to one day assist her children when they returned. She even used her newfound power as Grandma to help spare the lives of other children at GF by lowering the amount of harvests that took place. Granted, walking the children to their deaths as caretaker and her treatment of Ray are certainly her biggest flaws that can definitely outweigh all the good she's done during those several years as a mother, but again, it's not like she truly wanted to act that way! It was her job; a job she only took because she valued her own life so much (& honestly, I would too), but she excelled at it for their sake. She's renowned for being the best for providing such high quality meat to the farm (which sounds bad when ya think of them as food, I know), but it means her children were raised with such rich emotions and were able to reach a reasonable decent age because they knew what happiness and love felt like and she did everything within her power to keep them alive as long as they possibly could. So to hear this demon make a statement like this just irks me because while it's true this one mama bear moment may not be enough for Isabella to be redeemed fully, it completely disregards every other motherly act she's done for her children over the years.

Literally the only positive I can take away from this highly unfortunate demon encounter is how damn strong and determined Isabella is. The fire in her eyes and the intense grip she has on this demon that straight up prevents it from moving to hurt Emma or the other girl.. aahh it's such a badass moment! What a queen!

Every single time I come across these panels, all I hear in my head is that Mushu quote: "You missed! How could you miss? He was three feet in front of you!" Seriously though, I can understand with how quick everything happened and the intense new threat could've caused Ray's aim to be off a little, but my boy, this could not have been a more worse occasion to miss. I don't wanna say it because it'll be so mean but s2!Ray could've done better.

Bro I remember so very clearly when a couple panels of this chapters were first teased before the official release (& yeah I was a complete mess back then too), but when this panel was going around, it was cropped short to where Ray wasn't seen at all, so people were going nuts about where he was, why wasn't he also surrounding Isabella, if his hatred for her really went so deep to not wanna be near her while she's at death's door, etc. It was kinda wild and absolutely made me anxious, but thankfully the panic was short lived when the full page was available. Sorta. I mean, it's still not a pretty panel, seeing my favorite villain minutes away from losing her life, but at least Ray is present along with all the other GF kids.

Seeing Isabella being more concerned about everyone else aside from herself after a serious stab wound.. what a bittersweet "like mother, like daughter" parallel.

Crazy how Krone's actions and words lead the kids to believe Isabella's intentions were just as heartless. Yeah both ladies wanted to survive and would choose to achieve that by any means necessary, but at least Isabella cared for the well-being of her children. That's already a whole lot more than what your typical mom or sister is capable of.

Having this panel placed in the middle of all the heartbreak is very much appreciated because I definitely need some adorable flashbacks to make me feel a little better before diving right back into my puddle of tears. Seeing her smile and laugh alongside the trio is the most adorable thing, especially that head pat she gives Emma. Also love that reference to ch95's extra page where Gilda was working so hard at the shelter that a sleepy Chris mistakenly called her "mom." Oh, my poor boy Chris.. he's gonna have so many things to catch up on once he wakes up and learning about Isabella's death ain't gonna be easy.

Say it louder, sweetie!!! And most definitely repeating myself once more by saying that I'm so glad the second season animated that panel of Isabella hugging the trio despite this chapter's events not happening.

I love this idea of Isabella & Yuugo being the "what if" versions of the kids. Isabella's situation could easily be applied to any of the girls, though most people associate it with Emma which is fair, just as we usually make the connection of Yuugo to Ray due to them both witnessing their family getting killed and all that time they spent alone, whether it be physically, mentally or emotionally. All three honestly.

Seeing all the children beg Isabella to hold on, along with them confessing how much they love her.. oh my goodness, I think so often how thankful I am that this scene wasn't included in the anime because seeing the pain on their faces is hard enough already, imagine how loudly I would sob if I heard the emotion in all their voices.

Oh, if any version of her lullaby played here, my heart would shatter. I already feel close to tears. She probably dreamed of hugging all her precious children and openly declaring her love for them once more without any fear of what the farm system might do to her and/or them, and now that Isabella finally gets that chance, she has such a thankful smile on her face and I'm happy she gets to experience these warm feelings one last time.

I dunno about anyone else, but this chapter always feels like a "try not to cry challenge, level: impossible" for me. Doesn't matter if they added in this cute scene of her hugging the trio with such a beautiful smile, my heart is still in pieces on the ground. I'm the one who needs the hug!

Favorite panel/moment:

If you haven't learned how much I love Isabella, Ray and their complicated mother-son relationship yet, then I haven't rambled on long enough. But yes, as much as her death absolutely wrecks me, I'm relieved it allows us to get one final interaction between her and Ray. By now we have a pretty good grasp about Ray's feelings towards Isabella, so the fact he kept his distance this entire time until she called out for him is so sad. We can't really tell if he rushes to her side or if he takes slow steps, but what matters is that he didn't deny her request.

It means so much that this moment is just between the two of them too. Sure it was undeniable sweet to see all the children cry and huddle around Isabella, but she and Ray have such a deep history so they deserve one last scene together. Although it's a very fragile relationship, that doesn't prevent her from giving him a personal apology with the very last bit of strength she has. Aahh, how terrible she must be feeling right now, thinking back on all the times she wasn't allowed to show him the same level of affection as a mother would normally show her son or for making his life such a living hell. She could've very well chosen to be angry at herself here or let the pain show on her face, and yet she chooses to smile instead. Not a smug or confident one Ray's probably used to seeing her use, but a gentle one that really conveys how strong her regrets are.

Having her last wish being for Ray to protect everyone is so perfect with how it shows that right til the very end, Isabella's children have always been her top priority and she'll always think of them first. It's also sweet that she wants Ray to hold onto this promise because us readers already know how committed Ray is to providing for his family and keeping them safe. Hell, his compassion and protective instincts were on full display last chapter when he jumped in to shoot at that demon bastard and when he accepted all the moms and sisters to join the kids in the human world back during ch164. Those were such great opportunities for Isabella to witness just how caring her son really is and how much he's grown. I'm certain she's so proud of him. To this day I still wish Isabella had actually spoke that "I love you so much" to him, but I know she was steadily growing weaker by the minute that even speaking or seeing clearly was becoming a challenge for her. The nice thing with Isabella though, is that she doesn't really need to say such words out loud for Ray or any other child to know how true her feelings are, as Emma confirmed earlier during her moment of reflection, that Isabella's actions speak far louder to the point where everyone was able to recognize how strongly she loved them all. What completely breaks me about this entire chapter though is seeing Ray finally breakout into tears as he holds onto his mother's hand. This boy just found out his mother was alive, along with becoming their enemy once more, saw her betray their common enemy in order to assist the children, which sparks his discussion to forgive her and wish for her to join him in the human world, only to realize that won't happen as she jumps in to protect one of his best friends and ends up critically injured all because he failed to killing a demon. That is so much to experience all in one day. It's a miracle he kept his emotions in check to begin with, but now he's hit with the realization that he's losing his mother for good and.. damn it 'yall. Can we please give my boy a break?? And my queen too while we're at it?? Both of them seriously had two of the worst experiences in this world and instead of having them reconcile and build a better mother-son relationship in the human world together, we gotta make them suffer once last time, huh?? Fucking hell man.. I said it way more than once and I'll say it a million more times up until I'm on my own death bed, but the decision of having Isabella stay alive is by far the absolute best thing to come out of season two.

I want to wish their moment was lasted longer than a page and a third, but I'd probably never recover from all the emotional damage if their tearful goodbye had more focus. AAhhh.. seems like I should've wrote out a lot more considering the amount of time I spent on this chapter and how passionate I get about my favorites, but ya know, the emotions are hella strong today.

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Stranger Things #10 Eddie AU, Hello Stranger

"Jesus Steve, you look like shit."

"Gee, thanks, Tommy." Steve rolled his eyes as he stabbed at the food on his lunch tray.

"Let me guess, you had a girl over last night. Didn't you?" The jock's friend asked with a grin as he elbowed Steve in the side.

"Something like that." The cafeteria buzzed around the trio's table, only slightly irritating the growing migraine Steve had been developing since the night before.

"Aw, and here I thought you only had eyes, Wheeler." Carol teased. "You still going to invite her over to the party tonight?"

"Party?" Steve's mind blanked for a moment before he remembered the plan to invite Nancy over for a 'party'. "Shit... I totally forgot about that." Kind of hard to remember anything after finding the guy bleeding out by his pool. "We're gonna have to reschedule."

"Boo!" Carol jeered, rolling up her straw paper and tossing it at Steve's head.

"Come on, Stevie! Don't chicken out!" Tommy laughed, but Steve shook my head.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." Namely figuring out what exactly he was going to do about the stranger in his house.

"Whatever, dude. But you better act fast with Wheeler. I saw the Byers freak eyeing her up in photography class." Carol added to which Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at the suggestion.

"Yeah. Like she'd ever go for that weirdo." The lunch bell rang and Steve got up. Only one more hour before he could go home. Hopefully, the house wouldn't be burnt down by the time he got there.

~~

Ten pulled the hat he grabbed from Steve's room tighter over his face as he made his way down the sidewalk. He knew Steve said he needed to stay in that room, but he had to find Eleven. The overwhelming sense of worry had taken over as he tried to keep himself panicking over the thought of Papa finding his sister again.

People were staring at Ten as he walked down the sidewalk. He could feel their eyes on him. Confusion practically radiated off them in waves. He couldn't understand why. Was it something he was wearing? Or maybe it was the way he was walking. Did people recognize him? There were so many nerve-racking possibilities.

Ten pulled at the pants he was wearing. They felt weirdly stiff. He almost missed his lab gown. Almost. Ten scratched at the gloves he managed to find in Steve's closet. They were old and itchy. Pulling at the cuffs, the teen didn't pay attention to where he was going until he ran head first into something.

"And where do you think you're going, young man?" Or someone. Ten looked up to see an older man in a brown uniform. He had a deep frown on his face as he glared at the younger man.

"I...ugh..." Ten didn't know what to say. The man radiated irritation with an underlying anger as he looked Ten up and down.

"Shouldn't you be in school?" Ten stared up at him with confusion. There was that word again. School. Wait, Steve was at school! Maybe Steve would be able to help him fund his sister. With the thought in mind, Ten quickly shook his head yes in response to the uniformed man's question. He sighed and shook his head. "Damn kids. Playing hooky...." The man grumbled under his breath. "Come on, let's get you back before your parents find out." The man rested a hand on his shoulder as he led Ten over to the nearby black and white car. "I hope you know I'm going to have to give you a warning, Mr....?"

Oh. He was asking for his name. Eddie looked down at his covered tattoo. He already knew most people didn't have numbers as names. The man probably wouldn't believe him if he told the truth. Instead, he thought back to the name on vinyl from Steve's house and spoke.

"Eddie."

He beamed as he said this. The teen wasn't sure why, but the name sounded right.

~~

"Jesus Harrington, you've been out of it all day. Come on. You, me, and Carol can head over to Benny's and grab something to eat." Tommy shook Steve's arm as the trio made their way through the crowd of highschoolers, the final bell having rung less than a minute before.

"Can't. I told you guys, I've got things to do."

"Or someone." Carol teased from behind the two. "Maybe we could meet this mystery girl you won't tell us about."

"There's no girl. I...." Steve's voice trailed off, his feet stopping as he saw a familiar figure through the glass of the principal's office. "...oh no." The figure turned and almost immediately saw Steve, enthusiastically waving to him. Carol and Tommy noticed and immediately took interest in the stranger.

"Who the hell is that?"

[krikeymate]

Hello, so i've been thinking about this hc in my mind a long time, so i was thinking what if sam never want to leave tara when she turn 18 as you know crishtina is teribble mother how can she left tara with this woman. So when in scream 5 when sam told tara that she left because she want to protect her and she scared that she will turn just like billy, is that maybe she accidently hurt tara back then i don't know maybe one day she come home drunk and not on purpose make tara hurt. And she start to seeing billy. And she freak out maybe thats why she not have a choice and have to leave tara with her shitty mom. I hope this make sense bcs english is not my first langguage and i'm still learning. But if sam really care and love tara she wouldn't just leave her unless something happen to tara and she causes it

This makes total sense, and you're learning English great! Good luck with learning the language! It's a hard one, and learning a language is always a super admirable thing. I'm not capable of it myself.

The idea of Sam accidentally hurting Tara while drunk or high and that chasing her away is such a good one, because otherwise why is Sam so convinced that she needed to protect Tara from herself?

I love the idea of Sam making such a big deal out of such a little thing, maybe something so small that Tara doesn't even remember it, but it haunts Sam. She stumbles home, she falls over. Tara tries to help her up, but Sam doesn't want her help, she doesn't need her help. She's the big sister. It's her job to help Tara, not the other way around. She pushes her away. She pushes too hard. Tara falls, smacks against something. All Sam can see is the blood welling between Tara's fingers as she clutches her injury. She did that. She hurt her. She runs away while Tara tries to call her back.

It was just a scratch. She barely even feels it. Her mother's done far far worse. Sam has done far worse under the influence of unknown substances, in her confusion. Not that she would ever tell Sam that. Sam's already having a hard enough time as it is. She never means it anyway.

Sam avoids Tara for days. When she finally sees her again, all she can focus on is bruised skin and the red line across it. Tara must hate her, she thinks. She must be scared of her. She misses the longing looks her sister sends her, the way she calls after her as Sam retreats once again. How could she have done this to her?

Tara: "You’re gone for 5 years. 5 whole years. And then I get stabbed and you wanna come back and you wanna drop all this shit on me?" Sam: "No, I swear, I thought I was protecting you." Tara: "Protecting me from what?" Sam: "…" Tara: "The truth?" Sam: "…No. …No I…"

Tara is the one who says Sam was trying to protect her from the truth. Sam denies this, but doesn't get to elaborate because Tara kicks her out.

[user64ab09]

I'm an object of mockery, it's not fair.

I was born in a tropical region but I was raised in a colder climate, so I wasn't used to such hot weather. When I was 8 to 9 we moved back to the city where I was born but I still feel like an alien here.

These two cities we lived in are in the same country, by the way, so nothing politically changed much but idk man, it just feels like there's a cultural and language barrier between those two reagions and the reason I still don't fit in is because of my existence.

Overall, I don't fit a single atom in my "home" country. I never saw someone physically and mentally like me, not even in my close family. Never saw someone not even of the same skintone as me, even though im not poc.

What if I suddenly killed myself? Will someone outside my household just know that something unusual happened? Will someone other than my pets miss me? How would I make my suicide even more disturbing and uneasy to talk about? Should I stab myself on the chest or in the neck? How many files of my suicide notes should I leak before my death?

I am a foreigner here and I'm always will be the one who's every time says that didn't know about this specific thing of the city. I don't know anything over here and if I talk with my actual accent, people might mistaken me with a beast. I am happy I don't actually belong here. But my preovious city friends are gone. I wasn't relevant, I didn't do memorable things. Nobody remembers me.

I'm such a freak that I don't like tanning. Seeing all my skin burnt because I spent 3 hours or even more in a roll in the Sun makes me disgusted. And I'm not even that genetically pale, those people I live nearby in my neighbourhood just say I'm light-skinned because they think I'm pale just because they're way more tan than me.

obs: the problem is that dark skin doesn't fit in MY BODY, without to mention that sunburns often cause irreversible damage to the skin dna that i just feel totally disturbed everytime i get sunburnt, i'm obviously not gonna feel grossed out if you're tanned or smthn

jeez, why am i even trying to explain myself in my own vent post? nobody's gonna read this shit.

And I'm so disgusted by my skin right now because I got aload of sunburns throughout the week because my family forcifully pulled me to the beach... 4 TIMES THIS MONTH!!! And they plan doing more!!! I hate going to the beach but they belittle by annoyances at it because I get fun in the water... BITCH, NO, IM JUST BORED. Also, I can just to go the pool for water, so belittleling me over it literally makes no sense.

And the pool is really more practical and you won't have to spend over 60 bucks in your travel there, and makes no mess. No gas or ethanol wasted, just take the elevator and go. WHY ARE YOU MAKING SUCH A BIG DEAL FOR MY STRUGGLE TO JUST GO OUTSIDE??

my family started going to the beach on a spree becaise during day 30 (dec) to the 14th my aunt came for the reveillion/new years and to celebrate my mom's birthday together during her visit. since she basically was a tourist we had to go sightseeing and... of course... going to the beach🙃

even now that she's obviously back to her city, THEY ARE STILL going to the beach on a spree (im gonna kms)

Seriously, guys, I'm sunburnt for almost A MONTH. If I ever get skin cancer I'm gonna blame it on them, fr. My mom already tried 4 different lotions to realive the burning sensation on the skin, IT DIDN'T WORK!!!! People normally forget that over here the average sun UV levels is around 16 or even 17...

Like, I mean, LOOK AT THIS!!! they are two weeks apart. No much difference, probably even some worsening.

—————————————————————————————————

Picture 1: (the first sunburn I got on january)

Pictures 2, 3 and 4: (the most recent ones)

I took a picture of my back to show that my skin is so dehydrated that it almost folds like foreskin or even paper of how damaged it is

I seriously cannot take this anymore. Going outside is a fucking burden. No wifi, no phone, no fun, too expensive... AHHHHHFGHRHHRH AND MY MOM INCENTIVATES ME TO DO SO BECAUSE SHE'S "WORRIED" ABOUT ME BEING "TOO MUCH" OF AN HEREMITE... OF COURSE, BOOMER, GOING OUTSIDE SUCKS!!!!!!

At breakfast I tried to explain to them that I can't take going to the beach anymore, implicitally explaining that it turned to be unfun again for the next couple of decades. Do you know what they answered me?!?!?!?!? This: "For the month, yeah?😉"

I fucking started crying. I had to urgently warn them that I can't explain it without throwing a fucking tantrum. They initially thought I had a nightmare at night... No, I had a nightmare AT DAY; AT THE BEACH, BUENING MY FUCKING SKIN, with NO IN-TER-NET.

I cannot even tell my smallest struggles for my parents (not even my sister) that they instanrly proceed to slander me over it until the day they forget about it. (Around 5 decades after my death, at minimum)

Can't wait for these files to leak after liters of blood gushing outaide my throat slit out by my own fists or the smalles kitchen knife my house has. Maybe people start fantasyzing about me not being real and an actual fictional character and try to understand me. Who knows?

[moderndayfantasia]

Regarding The Trip:

Hello Dear Reader! I have finally gained the confidence to release an update regarding my jaunt into South Avenue to investigate The Victim.

So, I have in actuality made THREE expeditions into South Avenue for my Investigation. The first one I have actually filmed and has been uploaded to a You Tube channel that I have gained access to! (Information on this later in This Post)

As can be seen within this video I have conducted survey to find out what has happened to our Victim.

However, when I arrived at The Tree in which I believed, though now know, The Victim to have been dropped into I found a freshly broken branch to support my theory.

Beneath this Branch however was a note bearing the message "You Will Know" along with some sigil I have never encountered before (Though given I am early in my sigiling research).

This immediately put me on guard. It seems as if this note was left for someone involved with our Victim's disappearance. Perhaps it is being conveyed to The Victim themself (If they are alive!) or perhaps someone involved in the perpetration of The Assault.

I abandoned The Note for the time being and returned at a later date. This next excursion I believe I had a brief encounter with our H.Lepidoptera. I did not see it in any legitimate fashion, however I could feel the presence of something stalking from the shadows and sky.

During Expedition 2 I realized something I had missed in my foolishness. I had missed a lantern hanging from a nearby bench. I knew it was a marker. However, I could not stay long, the sounds of some great winged shadow fell upon me and I fled, losing the confidence to continue investigating.

There is little that is more amazing than the general anxiety and excitement that hummed through my body at this moment. It is not often that I ever feel this alive. It is only amidst the field of discovery and, let's call it, Mental Transcendence, that I ever feel as if I, myself, am even real.

I must remember however, I Am Real. I Am One Of The Few.

However, this is not the purpose of my post today.

On the Final Expedition so-far I was in a Panic. I knew I was being hunted. Perhaps I had given too much mental energy to The Creature, maybe it had merely become brave enough for another hunt. But I knew, I was Prey.

I felt panic pulse in my bones and fear stab like glass in my brain. I tried to remember my goal and not fall into total discordant terror. I returned to The Tree, I searched the area one more time. The lantern was now broken. Seemingly trounced upon by some unknown force which caused it to completely shatter and shower the surroundings with glass. However, amidst my floundering I was able to uncover a cell phone! It was buried behind the bench. With it in hand I fled the scene as fast as I could!

Now, with mention of the phone. I believe it to belong to The Victim. However, I do not have a charger for the phone, so I am unable to access it. Though, I will be attempting to rectify this soon with the use of my tips from my Foster Flock's spirit shop.

Next time I am able to sneak out from their ever-watchful eye I will be purchasing a charger for this phone.

On the topic of purchases, I have recently purchased a small laptop. This will allow me to post on the go and to access The Inter Net without restrictions (I have been using the Flock's Computer in secret this whole time haha!). This has also allowed me to properly access The Camera as well! There were two things of extreme importance on the USB of The Camera.

First, was a phone number belonging to a "Constantine O'Riley". I attempted to contact this number using a nearby payphone, however, it seems that the line is dead. Not even a single ring upon any call I attempted to make (wasting quite a bit of change doing this in fact!).

Secondly, there was Log-In information for a You Tube Channel called THEREARENOLIGHTS. This channel belonged to The Victim of course. I looked through the old videos that were 'Privatized" on the Channel and it seems as if our H.Lepidoptera has been trailing our Victim for many years now (Or has at least been lingering around the Le'Breaux area for some time now.). The last note I will make upon these videos for now, as I have not observed them enough for a solid opinion yet, I believe that the Mothman has undergone a metamorphosis of some sort. It just does not seem the same as it was before.

Now Dear Reader, I must take my leave once again. I have new resources and new information I must study rather than yap unintelligibly.

I will leave off with my goals for this leg of the investigation.

Investigate THEREARENOLIGHTS further.

Buy a Charger for The Phone.

Investigate Constantine O'Riley.

Invest in Self-Defense Equipment.

[rocksanddeadflowers]

Okay so now I am hyperfixating on all the Beauty and The Beast variations because this morning I dug up my old Disney DVD of it and watched that (which I have notes for that specifically) and I've been trying to find a way to read the original book. (Despite that book being three hundred years old I cannot find the full version to read for free anywhere?? I did find an audiobook on YouTube though! It's a shortened version of the original I think, but still the original! I'll probably listen while I work later.) Also want to find another movie I remember from years ago and look into the actual musical when I get the chance. And maybe that 80's TV series if I can find any clips or episodes... You know. Just for fun. (Also might should read the Beauty and the Beast fiction for OUATIS on the mechs website.)

To get some movie notes out of the way:

In the movie Belle figures out her papa is missing bc of his horse returning without him, not the scarf thing. Which I actually like the scarf/cane thing more, cause it adds more character to me, but I LOVE the drama of a horse returning without its master so I thought I'd note it. Also I just really liked the horse.

I believe once Gaston proposes to Belle (her fully telling him to piss off) her dad had already left, but I can't help but picture Carmilla watching the whole exchange, especially Brian completely destroying Marius and embarrassing him after he's like "Let's get married you're so pretty blah blah blah", and being like "That's my boy!!! Get his ass!!!"

There's that thing where Gaston tries to get Belle's dad committed to get her to marry him, but I don't see Marius doing that to Carmilla. I think it would be more like Jonny letting Brian run home to find his mom if she's sick/injured, and Toy is already rallying.

(Also if we're sticking with Carmilla trapped in the castle like Belle's dad, then Nastya probably took all the blame for the curse so Jonny has no idea Carmilla was involved. He does have history with her though, and he's probably pissed to find her there at all anyway. That or we ommitt that bit somehow and he has NO idea that Brian's mom is Carmilla until way later which would be funny.)

Before/during the ballroom scene, there's a coat hanger setting the mood by playing either the violin or viola I think? That can totally be Marius playing his violin.

That version of the movie seems to take place over the course of like, a couple days?? Day one belle gets stuck in the castle and then he running away scene with the wolves before going back to the castle, day two bonding time but it ends with her running home to her papa and starting the mob on accident. Unacceptable they should at least get a month of bonding minimum imo...

Handful of final battle notes!!! Firstly Marius trying to explain the situation to the mob but very poorly is hilarious and fully on brand for him. I think at that point all the servants are sat around pretending to be inanimate and ready to ambush if his speech fails ("Don't worry everybody, I'll explain everything to them and maybe they'll just go away!"). I think Toy is happy to see Marius is alive, but worried he's sick or something so it immediately clunks him over the head, tosses the unconscious little dude over it's shoulder and puts him somewhere 'safe' for until after the battle.

The servants ambush everyone else and Aurora does extremely well tossing everyone out (after successfully getting everyone out, Lumiere kisses Cogsworth on the cheeks in celebration. I just can't help but picture Tim fully dipping Lyf and kissing them on the mouth lmao). You said someone must sneak past somehow and stab Jonny, it could be Toy! I think maybe Aurora has a harder time detecting its presence because while animate, it's not alive!

Toy and Jonny fight it out in the rain on the roof for a while, and Jonny is thoroughly beaten up. Marius finally finding his way to them not long before Brian gets there, but just a moment before. he gets in between them, grabbing Toy and begging it to stop, ordering it to stop through sobs at this point. It takes what feels like ages before Marius finally breaks through to it, by then Jonny is stabbed and dying and Brian is running to Jonny. It just kind of freezes and malfunctions, but it has stopped. It's confused but you can almost see worry for Marius in its usually immobile face. (everything else you wrote about the ending scene... so correct dude NEED the drama of it all.)

Last thing: Of course Jonny shouldn't shift back into human bc its more fun that he's still a beast, he just heals at the end bc of Brian's love Tangled-style. But I think the discourse between the prince being human or staying a beast depends on the feelings of the prince in any given retelling! If the prince hated being in a beast form and preferred being human, he'd shift into a human. If it was more like Shrek were he preferred the beast form, he'd stay in beast form. Cause you know, that's his bodily autonomy. I think Jonny actually likes being a beast though. Creature Jonny for the win!!

I think that's my notes for the movie! God I wrote so much more that intended and I haven't even responded to your reblog yet ....

Firstly, the Tale As Old As Time being sheet music Brian dropped when first arriving? That's so insanely perfect I love it. I also think he's never getting it back bc it got to Ivy somehow and it's part of her collection now. UGH that specific piece being what he fawns over in the beginning is so perfect!! Cause the book Belle fawns over parallels and foreshadows her experience with the Beast!!!

Also the bookkeep dude is like, one of the only villagers who seems genuinely kind to Belle. Like, interested in what she says and thinks and finds her antics charming instead of weird or annoying. This reminds me of in Frankenstein (at least, in the Mary Shelley's Frankenstein movie, cause sometimes I get that movie and the book scrambled) there's a family the Creation stumbles across, and it interacts with the grandfather first. The grandfather is kind and judgeless, mainly because he's blind and can't see how "hideous" the Creation is, so he judges based on the Creation's actions and words, not its looks. He's one of the only people in the whole story who showed direct, genuine kindness to the Creation. All that to say I think it'd be neat if Brian was actually close with the bookkeep guy, who was also completely blind! I don't even think braille was even a thing back then, much less accessible to common folk even when it was invented in he 1800s. So, Brian and that bookkeep might've bonded over a love of music because now that's how the bookkeep learns new stories is word of mouth and ballad! Maybe he even begins to order more sheet music when possible so Brian can tell him new stories in return!

And I haven't seen the wind key thing other than when Belle's dad picks up Cogsworth and fiddles with him at the beginning, but I fully agree with all the Marius and Lyf additions here. Squealing its so precious actually. I love them so much. (Jonny just staring at Marius during the first line up he's in just like... literally who the hell are you. This may as well happen. Lyf blink twice if you need help.) (Toy and Marius with the cane AUGH!!! An utterly clueless duo...)

Jonny being scared of the storm oh my god!! Aurora creaking around him in comfort!! (Also in a similar vein please consider that somehow, when Jonny is happy and cozy, he purrs. I have never lived without cats in my life so I just always have to add purring to inhuman humanoid characters.) Aurora and Carmilla also definitely go way back so I feel like she has really intense emotions during the whole scene of Jonny locking her up and Brian finding his mama, intense enough that even if they don't understand it, every inhabitant in the castle can feel it.

Okay I've written enough as it is for now but I will probably be back at again soon enough.

Beauty and the Beast, but it's the Mechanisms.

Jonny must be the beast because feral Jonny and the whole heart thing... prove me wrong.

Tim or Brian is Belle.

Rest of the Mechs are the servants in the Beast's house. With an exception for Marius as Gaston cause I can totally fucking see it. He would suck at it though because it's Marius. And also, short Marius HC.

This is probably not new. But it's been brewing in my head for a good few months, ever since I put my Mechs OC in the iconic Belle dress.

[anisespice]

“ so what? ” || tokyo rev. pt.2

                                 “ boy, I know you miss me, so what? ”

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] 

synopsis: when you showed up to his bike shop out of the blue, homie thought this was his shot at a second chance — a real shot in the dark. 

pairing: college!draken x gn!reader

word count: 1,247

warnings: mature language, angst (for him), mentions of cheating and stabbing, i think that’s it.

notes: part two is complete!! there will probably just be a total of three of these, unless i’m hit with inspiration after the last one...ion know, we’ll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .

Man nearly broke his neck doing a double-take when you walked into his shop, wrench slipping out of his hand with a harsh CLANG as memories came flooding in almost instantaneously.

There were tears. God, there were so many tears.

Even in that moment back then, you looked absolutely breathtaking; he just hated how he had to be the reason behind it all. DRAKEN didn’t want to continue the relationship knowing he was starting to drift, mind no longer occupied with thoughts about you, but someone else. He didn’t cheat on you, thankfully, but he came close one too many times. Before it got to that point, he cut things off without much hesitation. And not a day went by where he didn’t feel the weight of regret.

That was over a year ago.

Looking back, he wished he had handled it better. Then, maybe seeing you now wouldn’t feel like such a kick to the stomach. You looked better than ever, as breathtaking as the day he lost you, even beneath the unflattering lights from above. Eventually, your wandering eye landed on his stiff figure, rooting him right into the ground.

“Ken.”

His name used to sound like warm honey pouring from your sweet lips, each letter blanketed with adoration. Now, it feels sour. Detached, one could say.

“[_]-[____]…” he rasped, immediately clearing his throat afterward. Not knowing what to do with his hands, Draken crossed his arms, almost like a defensive stance. “What, uh…what are you doing here?”

“Look…I know this is sort of awkward but…I need your help.”

“My help?” He immediately thought the worst, especially since you came to him of all people. However, you were quick to squash whatever horrid thoughts began swimming in his head.

“It’s nothing bad! It’s repair related. If I remember correctly, you were pretty much a wiz at this stuff without charging a hefty price. That still true?”

Draken exhaled, relieved. Then, he shrugged. “Sure. I mean, I’m pretty reasonable depending on the damage. But, y’know I repair motorcycles, right?”

You hummed softly before reaching for your phone, tapping away until you found what you were looking for. In a few small strides, you entered this man’s personal bubble…it took everything in him not to flinch away in surprise. How could you be so calm about this? The last time you saw him, you cursed his name and threatened to castrate him with your bare hands if you ever saw him again. Now, you acted as if you were conversing with a total stranger; it was unnerving.

And, dare he say it…kinda disappointing.

He wasn’t expecting theatrics, but at least a little emotion would’ve been better than none whatsoever. After you parted ways, the mechanic tried to give his other relationship a try, only for that to end up going nowhere and leaving him completely devastated. Draken buried himself in his work to try and block out the pain from his impulsive decision, finding some sort of sick comfort in the idea that you’d be feeling the same emptiness.

Clearly, that wasn’t the case.

With you standing so close to him now, the former blonde couldn’t help but notice the airiness in your demeanor. The bags under your eyes were gone, hair a lot shinier, and even your scent gave off rejuvenation. You practically flourished while he was stuck living in the past.

But, Draken knew that’s what he deserved. Hell, he should be grateful you’re considering his business despite everything that’s happened between you two.

“…so, you think you can handle it?”

Uh oh. What did you say? What should he say??

He blinked a couple times, scratching the back of his neck as he registered exactly what you were showing him on your phone. The picture was of a slightly banged up looking Cobra Black 6493B. It caught him off guard that you’d be talking about such an expensive ride, not to mention a damaged one at that. Draken gave a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief; that’s definitely not gonna be cheap. “Well it’s uh, it’s difficult to say from the photo alone. But I can say whoever did this must’ve been a real dumbass.”

Tilting your head to look up at him with an arched brow, he immediately realized his mistake. He visibly glitched. You couldn’t help but snort, “I take it you missed the part where I mentioned it was my fault?”

“…and about pretty much everything else, minus that last part, yeah.”

It’s a rare sight to see the mountain man so flustered, but luckily you were kind enough not to comment on it. Even though he knew you really wanted to, Draken appreciated it nonetheless. If anything, it might’ve just lowered your price.

“Well, you’re not wrong. I was definitely being a dumbass. I mean, I was doing fine until I forgot how to break properly, then immediately panicked and jumped off the bike at the very last second before hitting a tree.”

Draken blinked widely, completely appalled. “Why the hell were you even on it to begin with if you didn’t know what you were doing?!”

He knew he had no right to scold you, but, as much as he’d hate to admit it, Draken still cared. Even after you broke up, his love for you didn’t just shut off. If anything, it merely grew—Seeping its unforgiving talons deep into his chest, refusing to relent no matter how many he slept with. The constant need to protect you came in full swing at the idea of you doing something so reckless, it was like a second nature. However, you merely brushed it off, scrolling through your phone to find a better visual of the overall damage.

“I just figured it would be like riding a regular bike. It’s not like my goal was to crash, y’know.” Draken rolled his eyes. You scrolled through your gallery until you finally found what you were looking for. “Ah! Here it is, bastard actually video taped it. He better be glad I don’t sue his ass for endangerment.”

“Huh?” Draken squinted, dumbfounded.

“Hm? Oh, my boyfriend’s older brother. It’s his bike. Yeah, the fucker bet that I wouldn’t last more than ten seconds on the stupid thing. Obviously I wasn’t gonna let him keep talking shit, and I swear I was gonna be totally safe about it, but then my boyfriend tried to talk me out of it and that sort of made me wanna do it even more because…”

Even though you were explaining the whole backstory, Draken had completely tuned you out. The only thing his mind latched onto was the last thing he wanted to hear.

Boyfriend. You had actually moved on.

The former delinquent had experienced many terrible things in his life, being stabbed and nearly bleeding to death being one of them. But this?

Frankly, he’d prefer the stabbing.

You said it so nonchalantly, too, as if you were talking about the weather. Were you trying to piss him off, or something? Probably not.

You weren’t a spiteful person, even though you had every right to be, you most likely said it because you felt it necessary to be mentioned. Besides, you gained nothing from making him jealous. Except maybe a reaction, but you weren’t even looking at him as you rambled on about what’s-his-face and the bike.

Either way…you maybe should’ve kept that piece of information to yourself.

Because now, the price just doubled.

© 2022-2023 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[sukirichi]

— out of reach | gojo x reader

request: Girllllll I just read your jealous gojo fic and my heart went 📈📈📈📈💥💥💥 youre now one of my fav writers 🙏🧎‍♀️And the spicy parts 😫😫😫 💖 If your asks are still open, could I please request a fic where GOJO has a size kink 🥺🥺🥺 my 5’1 ass is obsessed with that shizzzz 

pov: you’re gojo’s childhood friend and roommate – which leads to utter chaos – or perhaps utter bliss?

warnings: size kink, lots of teasing, lots of cursing, dirty talk, choking (probably not in the way you think), body worship, lots of size difference scenes, slight manhandling, overstimulation, thigh fucking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl guys) + unedited fic :D

notes: idk what happened here LMAOOO but i loved writing this one because i’m short as hell too lol. thanks for this request anon, i hope you like it! <3

word count: 10.5k

masterlist ! 

If you’re going to be honest, having Gojo as a roommate is something completely unexpected.

Not only are you two from entirely different worlds – him as a jujutsu sorcerer and you as an average human who can’t see curses – but he’s also just someone who is entirely out of your league. He’s respected and looked up to in his field of work, while half of your co-workers don’t even know your name, much less notice you in function parties where you mostly just nibble on sushi before calling it a day and turning back home.

You and Gojo met in elementary school. You could tell from the way he’s surrounded by servants and stern looking adults, firm hands on his small shoulders, that he was different from everyone else.

Apparently, he comes from one of the three big clans in the jujutsu world or whatever. You honestly don’t care about any of that, because Gojo refuses to act maturely about his role in the clan. You still remember how quiet he was on the first day of school, never smiling and keeping to himself despite your persuasion to eat lunch with him or play with him after school in the courtyard.

You miss that Gojo Satoru – the quiet, serious kid who was far too gentle in his actions yet firm in his words and beliefs. When you were still a little girl, you admired how he seemed older than his age, a wistful look in those azure blue eyes of his that you’ve always loved.

To you, Gojo Satoru was your hero. You’ve always been one of the shortest kids in class, and it didn’t help that you really loved pigtails all the way until middle school that made you an easy target from immature people who’s being hit way too fast by puberty and growing each passing day. You never minded your short stature because really, it’s just height, but you couldn’t ignore how your confidence dwindled each day when they called you several array of nicknames.

Too shy to fight back, you’d laugh it off or force a smile.

Gojo wasn’t having any of it. He’d break his silence and immediately pull you to his side (which only made things worse because Gojo was one of the tallest kids in class, further emphasizing how small you are right next to him) before threatening to smack the kids right in the face.

The threat should be enough to land him detention, but because he’s Gojo Satoru, the golden kid everyone loved, they took his word seriously.

At the age of eleven, you started seeing your best friend as your knight in shining armour. Gojo basked in this, growing protective and always glaring at whoever snickered when you walked past them. Sometimes he even bared his teeth to hiss at them, which was honestly so ridiculous now that you think about, though the message – the threat – always came across loud and clear.

So yeah, you love Gojo, you still do.

Years flew by and the two of you grew apart due to work and also as a part of growing up. You still kept in contact, messaging each other once a month to ask the other how they’re doing. His work kept him extremely busy though, and Gojo didn’t want you involved in the dangers of what he’s doing, so he makes sure to keep a safe distance.

Until six months ago, you hear a banging on your door. You’re just about ready to throw hands because your former roommate moved out to live with her stoner boyfriend, leaving you to shoulder all the bills and responsibilities of maintaining a two man apartment.

A sneer forms on your lips as you swing the door open, a scowl already on your face. You assumed it was your roommate who returned to get the pair of lace panties they left in their room, but instead, your childhood friend stands before you, taller (seriously, how has he not stopped growing?) and definitely a lot hotter than the last time you saw him.

One thing leads to another, and now it feels like there was never such distance between the two of you with how easily you both fell back into a comfortable – yet chaotic – rhythm and routine of being each other’s roommate.

Not that you mind, of course. Gojo’s definitely changed a lot from when you were kids. He’s no longer that stiff or sensitive when it comes to others. In fact, it seems like he loosens up a lot more with age, because you can barely recognize the man living under the same roof with you now.

For one thing, Gojo is loud. Like really talkative, won’t shut the fuck up and speaks like he’s in a screaming contest with someone. It doesn’t matter if you’re taking an important phone call or sleepwalking at three in the morning to pee, Gojo is always creating some sort of ruckus.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you loved it. You love him.

He’s definitely a lot more enthusiastic and fun to be with now that both of you have grown up, or in Gojo’s case, simply aged. His maturity reversed backwards because it feels like you’re taking care of a little kid.

Not only does his body clock is practically non-existent, he’s also horrible when it comes to taking care of himself and being punctual with work.

Fortunately for him, you love him, and you both leave for work at the same time. You always wake up earlier to prepare breakfast so you’d both have energy to start the day – although you highly doubt there’s really anything that depletes his endless source of one.

Sleepily walking through the kitchen with your fist rubbing at your eyes, you rummage through the refrigerator for some eggs when you realize there’s none.

Huh, you think to yourself, scratching your scalp. You’re sure that Gojo went grocery shopping last week since it’s his chore to do the outside stuff like buying groceries and throwing thrash, so where did it go?

You open shelf by shelf, checking each corner and shoving cans aside to look for the tray. With a glare, you stand on your tiptoes to pull the pantry open, only to have your mouth fall aghast because it’s all there – right at the back where you can’t reach it!

Fucking Satoru, you grit your teeth while heaving your body up onto the counter. It’s a struggle because not only are your muscles still half asleep, but because the shelf is right in your face, and if you’re not careful enough, you could hit it right with your face and fall over. Of fucking course you know Satoru did this to make fun of you – and now you retract your statement over your best friend.

It’s all a lie.

He’s a pain in the ass. Why do you even bother cooking for him and letting him live literally just a room away when you know he won’t stop pulling shit like this?

Because, the nagging voice in your head tries to mock, he’s your best friend and you can’t really say no to him. This makes you huff as you carefully pull the tray towards you, hooking two fingers at the edge while your other palm grips at the end of the counter for support. No thanks to your short limbs, you’re practically hogging the shelf by now in an attempt to reach it. You look ridiculous, that’s for sure, and you make a mental note to keep Satoru’s windows open tonight so he freezes to death –

“Aw, cupcake,” a sing-song voice emerges from the other side of the room. “You look so adorable. You should’ve woke me up if you need my help.”

“Fuck off, Satoru,” you flip him off. The man only laughs, the rambunctious sound echoing off the walls. It’s way too early in the morning and he’s already so damn loud; something builds up at the back of your head out of frustration already. His grin only gets wider when you finally got the eggs and clutch it your chest, setting it down on the counter while wiping your sweat away from your face. “Freeloader,” you mutter under your breath, ignoring him when he happily skips over to you.

“Ouch,” he places a palm over his chest, although you both know he’s never really affected by anything. “So what’s for breakfast today? You?”

“You know, I can kick you out anytime I want. I’m being extremely nice even going as far to cook you breakfast before you leave for work, so don’t test my patience.”

“Exactly, my best friend is so kind,” Satoru grows the audacity to rest his arm on your head. This triggers a reflexive response from you; shoulders tensing up and hands curling into fists beside you. “I would totally date her if she wasn’t such a temperamental little devil,” you nearly stab him with a fork with his statement, which he thinks he’s being so sly for but you heard it, and you’re most definitely not pleased with it. “Okay, I’m kidding! I’m going to go shower now!”

You roll your eyes at him and heat the pan over with some oil, muttering under your breath that you’re really going to kick him out soon. As if things couldn’t get worse – as if Satoru couldn’t get any worse – he smacks your backside in the process before darting to the showers.

“Gojo Satoru!”

“Morning, best friend, love ya!”

You were right. He is a pain in the ass.

“You don’t always have to walk me to work.”

“I know.”

“So why’re you still here? I’m not a little kid anymore,” Contrary to your words, you stick closer to Satoru when the morning rush of workers and students begin to crowd the streets. Your best friend notices this with a small smile, his hand resting on the small of your back. “Don’t even try, Satoru.”

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“I know that look on your face,” you fiddle with the buttons of your uniform, sighing when Satoru follows you inside the bus after tapping your phone for two seats. It’s not a surprise to you anymore that most of your expenses are spent by him, for him, and he lazily sprawls his long limbs across the seat before you pulling you down right next to him.

As much as you hate this man, especially because he smirks at the attention he’s receiving from women – even men – in the bus, you have to admit he’s warm and smells damn good. You bite the inside of your cheeks, looking around in slight self-consciousness before inching a little closer, just to feel his warmth. He’s comforting – irrationally so – so you set your bag between the both of you to keep your sanity. “If you keep doing this, Principal Yaga might fire your ass because you’re never on time.”

“Trust me, cupcake, he won’t. I’m too valuable for that.”

How you saw that coming – you can’t tell anymore. The bus ride is relatively quiet and eventless, with you dozing off every now and then because you’re never a morning person. Thankfully, Satoru is more respectful this time around, lolling your head until it drops to his shoulder. After that, he snakes his arm around your waist before resting it on your thigh as a way to say you don’t have to head bang every damn second and just sleep.

On any other occasion, you would’ve hated it. You always look so small whenever you’re in Satoru’s presence. It doesn’t help that he’s long and lanky, either, his slender fingers effortlessly caressing your thigh while almost your entire body is flushed next to him. But right now, he’s too warm, too soft, and you’re too tired that for just a little bit, you allow yourself to relax.

A beeping wakes you up a moment later. Opening your eyes, you push yourself off Satoru when you see an old lady reaching for the handles. No one gave up their seats for her even as the bus driver asked her to find a seat lest she’d fall.

“Grandma, here, take my seat—” You’re about to stand up and offer it to her when Satoru tugs you by the wrist. Because of your small, wobbly composure, pulling you to him takes little to no effort. You end up on his lap, sitting on him as if you’re nothing but a small, dainty schoolbag. Satoru is clearly enjoying this because you feel him breathily laugh on the back of your neck, charming – annoyingly so – as he gestures to the now empty spot beside him.

“It’s no worries, Grandma. She’ll be fine,” he gestures to you, patting your head like you’re some puppy. “Please, take a seat. The bus is already moving.”

“Satoru, get off me,” You wriggle yourself from his hold, which only ends up in wasted effort because this big oaf doesn’t even budge. He even bounces you on one of his thighs, and you dig your nails into his arms as a silent plead for him to stop. He ignores this, ignores your small whines and the apparent embarrassment that has you debating whether to punch him or hide yourself in the safety of his uniform.

“She’s a feisty little one, isn’t she?”

The old lady watches the two of you banter, giggling behind her wrinkled hands. “You’re an adorable couple.”

“I think so too!”

“You’re so going to pay for this, Satoru,” you grumble, face planted onto your palms. This is it – the worst day of your life. It’s even worse because despite your protests, you have to admit his lap is actually comfortable. You’ve already known this before after countless times of cuddling with Satoru during movie nights, but its different when you’re both out in public. It feels...oddly intimate and maybe even romantic when he rubs soothing circles at your back, almost as if apologizing for this event. Most of all, you just hate the way something pools beneath your stomach at having him so close to you like this. “This is so embarrassing. I’m practically crushing you with my weight.”

“Please, cupcake, you barely weigh anything. I could easily lift you off with just my finger,” when you elbow him in the chest, Satoru only laughs, raising both hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing.”

You give up. No one seems to be paying much attention to any of you anyway, so you sigh, letting yourself hide in the crook of his neck as you watch the city pass through the windows. Your body moves as his chest rises and falls from his breathing, the movement oddly comforting. It’s embarrassing – it really is – but at least the grandma was comfortable until Satoru drops you off near your building.

“You don’t have to walk me all the way there.”

“Why not? You don’t want people to see us together or something?”

“No,” you stare at him from the corner of your eye. It’s no secret Satoru is attractive. This bastard knows it too, judging from the way he confidently and arrogantly swaggers next to you, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he walked with no care in the world. “My co-workers keep asking me for your number every time I tell them we’re not dating. It’s getting annoying at this point how they go Satoru this and Satoru that.”

“Am I hearing it right? Is cupcake jealous?”

“I’m not jealous, I’m disgusted,” you correct, “They don’t know how much of a pain you are to have around. They’re so focused with your looks that they completely overlook the fact you can’t even wash your dirty underwear!”

Satoru frowns at this, pointing his finger to you as if you’ve accused him of a huge crime. “Hey, I wash my underwear.”

“Yeah and last time you did, you mixed it with whites! My work uniform turned a stupid shade of blue! Now I can’t picture the colour of your boxers out of my head and it’s giving me a headache!”

“Wow, Y/N,” the smirk on his face and the sudden drop of nicknames lets you know you’ve said something wrong. Even behind his blindfold, you could tell his eyes are just sparkling with amusement. He’s enjoying this way too much. “I never thought you’d ever picture my boxers. I mean, I don’t mind showing it to you if you ask nicely—”

“Ugh, you’re so hopeless. I’m going to work.”

Gojo laughs when you jog away from him. He catches up with you in a matter of seconds, only having to take a few steps forward before he’s right beside you again. You’re unsure if you should be annoyed it’s so easy for him to always be right next to you, and how he almost always is right next to you while you prefer running away. It muddles with your heart and mind so much you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to be swayed by the sickeningly sweet sound of his laughter. “I can’t pick you up later, okay? I might work overtime!” (that’s a lie since Gojo prefers shopping and sightseeing)

Both of you know that’s a lie. Gojo never works overtime. He’s going to work for a few hours and so and call playing around with his students as “on-hand learning” before he goes shopping for stupid souvenirs and wild-flavoured mochis, then end his day by sightseeing and coming back home.

“Wasn’t expecting you to,” you mumble, waving goodbye to him as the office doors close. Slowly, Satoru’s grin and enthusiastic farewell fades into view until nothing but the pale, silver walls of your office greets you.

Funny how you claim to hate this man so much, yet the moment he’s out of sight, everything becomes dull and pointless.

It’s an absolutely shitty day. Your equally shitty boss blames you for something you didn’t even do, all because his incompetent secretary – who you’re sure he’s sleeping with – lost this month’s report and claimed she handed it to you last week when you’re not involved in that kind of work. Logic doesn’t come by them because your boss publicly humiliates and scolds you, calling you all kinds of names until tears are streaming down your face.

You slam the door shut the moment you get home, kicking your shoes off as you head straight to your room. You don’t bother taking your makeup off anymore as you change into a loose shirt and floral cotton shirts, padding to the kitchen after seeing Satoru is well nestled into the couch.

At least someone’s had a good day.

Seeing as the sink is empty, he probably hasn’t eaten dinner. This makes you sigh, because when will he ever learn to look after himself? He’s literally like a child.

Satoru pauses whatever he’s watching before he hovers over you, head tilted to the side as he gazes at you with curiosity. You ignore him and begin to set down some bowls and chopsticks for dinner, all the while Satoru is studying every inch of your tightly pulled face. “Bad day?” he concludes.

“Hmm.”

“Bad day it is then,” he nods to himself. “I can cook dinner, if you want.”

“And have you burn my apartment? No thanks,” you scoff, pushing him aside to retrieve the pans when you see that he’s placed them above again, even after you’ve reminded countless times to just leave it near the holders in the sink. “Ugh, why do you keep putting the pans in this shelf? You know I can’t reach this. I’ve had enough with you pulling pranks on me, and don’t think I’ve forgotten you placed my shampoo above the shower head today, you idiot,” you snarl and hop over the counter again to get the pans, trying your best to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. “You’re really bothersome, you know that?”

“Then why don’t you kick me out?” he challenges, completely oblivious to how you’re struggling – both physically and emotionally. “You always complain about me being a nuisance here, but you’re not really doing anything to keep me out.”

“Because where else would you go?”

“Technically, I have a room back at the Institute.”

“Yeah, but because you’re so stupid and reckless that you got kicked out of your own home,” you spat out, and you watch as Satoru raises a brow at your statement. Banter is common between the both of you, but something about the intensity of your gaze lets him know you’re serious this time around. “I don’t even know how Yuuji puts up with you. That poor Megumi is right when he says you’re insufferable. You’re good for nothing!”

Satoru scoffs, “Fine, if you hate me that much, why didn’t you just say so earlier? I could easily pack my bags and go since I’m just making everything harder—” Satoru doesn’t get to finish what he’s saying when your hand over the counter that acts as support slips under you, and you fall, legs bent awkwardly while you scream, preparing yourself for the impact. The pan is long forgotten, your only thought was oh my god, so this is how I die.

But it never came, and you keep your eyes shut tight even as warm hands cup your ass. Satoru is breathing hard under you. Finally gaining the courage to crack an eye open, your breath halts when you see that he’s sitting on the floor, with you safely nestled between him.

Satoru has always had pretty eyes, but it’s rare he takes off his blindfold off even when he’s home. This is one of those rare occurrences that he seems like a normal human, dressed in a gray sweatshirt that hands low from his collarbones and magnetic blue eyes staring right back at you. His touch is gentle, almost as if he’s afraid to hurt you, and his voice that is usually loud and teasing comes out breathy and hesitant.

“Are you okay?”

Your gaze drops down to his lips. He’s close, so close, that if you just lean a little closer you could – you snap out of your daze. “Get off me.”

“Cupcake, you’re the one who’s on top of me,” his voice falls an octave lower, eyes flitting down to your clothing – or rather the lack of it – before Satoru takes a deep breath. “Did you really have to wear that?”

“I have the right to wear whatever I want in the comfort of my own home.”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he raised a brow, this time completely in control of himself as he gazes back up at you with a burning gaze. You see nothing but the way one corner of his lips tilt up, almost teasing, and he looks so much like a shit-eater that you feel heat crawl down your spine.

You push yourself off him but your bent foot behind you slips, and you fall forward with your hands clutching his strong shoulders. Satoru catches your leg behind you, drags it forward until your knee is pressed in between one of your warmth, very much still enjoying the way you wriggle away from his hold. He knows his effect on you – but you deny this wholeheartedly.

“Careful, cupcake. This isn’t a slip and slide.”

“I hate you so much,” you bare your teeth at him, slapping his chest until he finally lets go of you. Turning your back to him, you pick up the pan and begin preparing your dinner, muttering curses under your breath as you heat up the stove. “I’m kicking you out tomorrow.”

“Why not now?”

“Eat your damn dinner first.”

Dinner after that is awkward. Although Gojo is someone who can wolf down his meal in three seconds, he takes his time in eating to start conversation with you. Sometimes he asks decent questions like how your day was or he’d talk about something stupid, but he’s quiet the whole time. He even volunteers to do the dishes before retreating to his room, coating the house in silence.

It almost feels like you’re all alone over again.

You’ve gotten so used to him being an utter mess everywhere that when he’s not trying to piss you off and actually giving you the much needed peace, you begin to hate it. Memories of the rude things you’ve said to him a while ago play and in your head, and you bang your head against the wall repeatedly.

How are you supposed to apologize to Satoru now?

The answer doesn’t come until you stare at your walls, wide awake at midnight. The house is still eerily silent and you don’t stop shuffling around your bed in discomfort. Many times, you wished that Satoru would shut up and leave you alone, but now that he’s actually done that, it feels weird. Uncomfortable. It feels wrong.

With a grunt, you kick off the sheets and carefully tread to his room, knocking lightly in case he’s already sleeping. “Satoru?” you call out, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Are you awake?”

You’ve seen Satoru angry as kids before, but what would he be like now? Would he still want to be your friend? Would he still annoy you by hiding your things somewhere you can’t reach? Or would he be the who is now out of reach? If he leaves...who’s going to walk you to work? Who’s going to complain he doesn’t want to do groceries but buys you things you don’t ask for but want anyway? Who’s going to keep teasing the living daylights out of you if not him?

All these thoughts claw at the back of your mind until your bottom lip trembles. You hate how weak you feel; how you’re never careful with your words.

You never meant it when you said all that.

Your train of thought is cut off when the door swings open, revealing an equally tired-looking Satoru. At the sight of you peering up at him with glossy eyes, he pushes the door wider and steps closer to you, his large hands cupping your face as he leans down in worry. “Cupcake,” his brows pinch together, “Did something happen? Is something wrong?”

“I just wanted to apologize for everything I said,” you blurt out, “I was just tired from work and my boss was being shitty, so I wasn’t totally myself that time and I’m really sorry I took my anger out on you. I didn’t mean it when I said you’re insufferable and that I’m kicking you out so – yeah,” you breathe out, trailing your gaze downwards to stare at your feet instead. It’s difficult to look him in the eye right now. When you finally gain courage to speak again, it barely comes out as a whimper, your hands delicately tugging at his shirt. “Please stay. I like having my best friend around here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer.

You’re about to look up at him just in case you’ve said something wrong, or worse, he refuses to forgive you, but then – “Yeah, I know you wouldn’t kick me out. You’re too much of a darling to say no to me.”

Sigh. Satoru laughs when he sees your shoulders deflate, absolutely shattered in exhaustion. Hiding your smile to now show him you’re relieved, you punch his chest that really feels like a fly had accidentally flew into him. “Way to ruin the mood, Satoru. And here I thought I could have a serious conversation with you for once.”

“Apology accepted,” he beams, tilting your chin upwards so you could look at him. Even in the darkness of his room, his eyes glow, leaving you hypnotized in its beauty. “Plus, I think I’m the one who should apologize. You’re right; I haven’t been the best roommate and I am a freeloader,” he scratches the side of his head in thought. “But I do buy you food all the time though.”

“Yeah, with my money,” you counter, but you don’t really care anymore at this point. You’re beyond elated you’re both fine now, and you shyly gesture to his big, warm bed that suddenly looks so comfortable. “Can I stay here for tonight?”

“You want Satoru’s bear hug?”

“Yes, I do.” There’s no hesitation in your words and you don’t complain anymore when he easily picks you up like a ragdoll using only one arm. He’s surprisingly gentle when he places you both down on the bed, sheets warm and soft as it blankets over you.

It would be perfect – except it’s so damn awkward.

Gojo’s long limbs are everywhere. Your face is pressed into his chest, both your legs tangled together. His arm is sprawled over the curve of your hip, his hand nearly grazing your ass that’s barely covered by the thin material of your shorts, but if he shifts, he’ll end up cupping the back of your thighs which is equally uncomfortable.

He seems to be stuck in the same position because you’re so small, and your knees are grazing his groin. Had he known you’re going to sleep with him, he would’ve worn underwear or even boxers under his sweatpants.

He’s never told you before, but he prefers to sleep in the nude. Satoru only picked up the nearest pair of pants when he heard you knock, and even then, he didn’t have the time to wear a shirt.

Your breath is hot on his skin and he’s so sensitive and aware of all your movements. Satoru clears his throat awkwardly, shifting until his arm lightly holds your back instead, but then he pulls away as if he’s touched fire when he’d unknowingly fiddled with your bra clasp instead. It’s so painfully awkward that Satoru chuckles above you, while you scrunch your nose, silently praying to the heavens above that he won’t hear how loud your heart is beating right now.

“Why is it so hot in your own room?”

“Maybe it’s time you get me an AC.”

“You wish, Satoru,” you mumble beneath him, making yourself as comfortable as you can with your cheek resting on his bicep. It’s not the softest pillow considering he’s pretty muscular, but he’s warm and smells like mint spice nevertheless. “You’re really not going to put on a shirt?”

Satoru sighs, a long and loud one that is extended for dramatic purposes. Suddenly, he pushes your knee off of him, grimacing and thanking the darkness that you can’t see how much he’s struggling right now. “Cupcake, this is hard for me as much as it is for you. You’re barely wearing anything.”

“Since when have you cared about what I wear?”

“I’m a man, Y/N,” is what he reasons with, “You’re lucky it’s me. Had it been someone else and you crawled into their bed wearing these—” Satoru pinches the waistband of your shorts, and you squeal in protest, only making him laugh afterwards before he lets it go and the material snaps back at your skin, “—poor excuse of what you call shorts, I can’t guarantee they’ll give you a peaceful night.”

You know exactly what he’s trying to hint at. Still, it’s hard to believe that Satoru is capable of seeing you that way.

It’s not that you feel you’re unattractive. You know you’re pretty and have been out on many dates, but it’s easy to feel that you’re not sexy when you have the height of a thirteen year old and you’ve been constantly chastised about it.

Satoru’s not-compliment compliment has your heart skipping a beat, and you scoff in response. “Shut up,” you warn lamely, “I want to sleep.”

“Then let’s sleep, cupcake.” You don’t know if it’s because you’re utterly exhausted that you doze off seconds later or if Satoru’s words just held power in them, but soon all thoughts of anything unwanted drifts out the window, his arms keeping you close, completely safe and sound until the worst nightmares couldn’t even come close.

Hot. It’s extremely hot.

You crack an eye open to try and find the source of this uncomfortable heat, but you freeze when you realize you can’t feel your muscles from the chin down. Panic rises in your throat once you see the current predicament you’re in, and a scream rips through your throat so loud that the birds outside scurry away in a flurry.

You’re wrapped in Satoru’s blanket and comforter, rendering you unable to move because of how he’d treated you like a burrito wrap. Even your toes are captured inside this hell, and only your head is able to wriggle side to side.

“Satoru!”

The culprit comes out of the shower a split second later, his hair dripping wet and only a towel hanging low from his lips. If you weren’t so hell-bent on killing him, you would’ve been speechless at the way water drips from his hair down to the curves of his abs, going down down down into a place only your darkest imaginations could take you.

Satoru bends over in laughter as he whips out his phone, jumping from angle to angle and side to side to take photos of you. “Fuck,” he howls, slapping his thigh while you snarl in an attempt to break free. “You’re a lot cuter than I thought you’d be.”

“Satoru! Get me out of here!”

“No, this is way too gold. I’m sending these to my students.”

“Satoru, I’m serious!” The devil incarnate himself falls deaf to your please.

Maybe it’s because the violent intent has coursed through your veins so strongly that a surge of energy and strength overcomes you, and soon, you’ve rolled out of the blanket. The fresh air nipping at your heated skin is most welcomed, but right now, you had a mission to fulfil: obliterate Gojo Satoru.

The platinum haired man is still laughing to himself, too distracted in scrolling through the best photos to send to his students that he doesn’t notice you escaping and zooming straight right at him.

The momentum is enough to catch him off guard until you end up on top of him, short arms clawing your way through to snatch his phone. Satoru yelps when his phone lands out into the living room and your hands come down to choke him. You don’t have plans to kill him, but you want to hurt him enough to remind him you’re not someone he can fuck with.

You’ve just about had enough of this man and you’re so sick of him!

Satoru yells out a “Hey!” when you let out a battle cry, using your legs to kick him back when he tries to sit up. Your plan backfires when your hands slip down his wet skin and you fall face forwards, hands barely touching the ground for support when your lips come crashing down on his.

He stills underneath you. It takes a moment for you to realize that holy shit, you’re kissing him and his lips are so soft that has you scrambling back, but Satoru doesn’t let you.

His large hand comes up at the back of your neck to pull you forward. The sudden movement makes you gasp, and Satoru slips his tongue inside when you do so. You no longer remember how you got here or try to make sense of what’s going on, because he feels so good, tastes so good that you bury your nails in his hair while he ravishes your mouth.

You’re so tiny that his hand cups your entire buttcheek almost possessively, a low growl emanating deep in his throat when your tongue eagerly intertwines with his. Satoru tastes like heaven and everything about the kiss is sloppy – tongue clashing with one another and teeth nibbling at the other’s lips. It’s clear both of you can’t get enough of one another as you moan in his mouth, shamelessly grinding on his crotch, suddenly thankful that you’re always wearing thin clothes when you feel him harden underneath you.

“Fuck, baby,” he pulls away to breathe, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. “Yeah, just like that,” There’s something empowering about the way he pants at your ministrations, especially when you roll your hips faster across his erection. “Keep going, baby, you’re doing – fuck – so well.”

You smirk at his praises, latching your teeth on his neck to suck marks on them. Satoru groans at the same time you muffle your moans through his skin, his hands sliding under your shirt to tug the cups of your bra down. You nearly lose it when he pinches your nipple, bolts of electricity running down your spine at the contact. A moan breaks through your lips just as you come right there and then, the wetness of your sudden orgasm barely hidden in your flimsy underwear.

“Feel good?” he teases and drags your shirt down to the other side, but the post-nut clarity hits. And when it does, it hits hard.

Fuck. You just came from Satoru’s simple touches, and he’s so unsatisfied, still painfully hard underneath you but nothing but panic and regret washes over you like a strong tidal wave. Suddenly, you grow lightheaded as you push yourself off him, fixing your bra while ignoring the confused and hurt look on his face.

“I gotta go to work,” you run out the room, feeling your body tremble as Satoru runs after you. “Make yourself breakfast. I’ll eat on the way out.”

“Y/N, wait!”

You know you’ve just ruined everything – that nothing will ever be the same after that – but you’re scared, utterly and remorsefully so, that you slam the door right in his face as if you don’t have any idea how much you broke him.

You’ll never forget the way Satoru’s face fell when you left.

Just as you thought, nothing is the same after that. The tension is so thick around the apartment you make an effort and go out of your way just to avoid him and the apartment completely.

It’s cowardly – you know this much – but do you ever try to fix the friendship you cherish but shattered completely? You don’t. You don’t because it only crashes down onto you now that maybe your feelings for him aren’t just platonic, after all. It’s even worse because you touch yourself at the thought of him filling you up when he’s asleep, all because you want him so bad and the mere presence of him has your brain malfunctioning.

It isn’t entirely sexual either. Yes, you want to fuck him badly, but it scares you down to the core even more because you want so much more than that.

Now you understand why you always say he’s a bother but never asked him to leave. It’s because you like him, actually romantically interested in him. It makes sense now why you always felt so annoyed whenever your co-workers asked for his number, or how you’re immediately pissed off when Satoru talks about this hot woman he saw at work. You always chalk it up to an excuse you just hate how he can’t keep in his pants, but it isn’t true at all.

It’s because you actually like him – and you’re at a loss on what to do or how to deal with it.

The next few days feels like hell. Satoru isn’t stupid; he knows you’re avoiding him. He stops teasing you eventually and even buys takeout all the time when you lock yourself up in your room right after work, refusing to cook dinner or even eat all so you’d be spared the torture of looking at him.

He’d knock at your door and ask you to eat, but other than that, he’s respected your distance.

You feel like the most terrible person on earth. You don’t miss the way dark circles line under his eyes or how he’s lost his spark, barely even speaking to you when you’ve come or about to leave for work.

You’re alone the whole ride, as well, and it only dawns on you how lonely you are when Satoru isn’t always annoying you all the time.

But it doesn’t make sense. Why is he so bothered by it? Didn’t he regret it? It’s painfully clear you’re not Satoru’s type. You’ve seen the women he dated before, and you’re not close to them so why does he seem like he’s struggling with this as well? Or maybe...he’s just sad that his friend is avoiding him.

Yeah, that has to be it.

Satoru is a man. He was probably turned on at that time, but after giving some thought about it, he probably wants to keep his distance too. He’d be insane if he ever actually wants to date you – his best friend out of all people – because he’s Gojo Satoru and he could literally have everyone else.

You don’t care that you’re a coward.

You don’t care that Satoru is sad to see you this way.

You don’t care because you know he’ll reject you, you know he’ll be weirded if you admit your feelings for him. To him, you’re like his little sister. There’s just no way you two would work out. For now, you have to get comfortable with the uncomfortable. You just need some time to get over your feelings for him, and when you’re confident you won’t fall for him again, you’ll mend your friendship.

You just need time.

“So, Y/N, you still don’t want to give us your friend’s number?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you should share it,” your co-worker encourages by jabbing her shoulder to yours. It’s a lazy Friday night and the staff went out for dinner. You don’t usually come to these hangouts since dinner with Satoru is always much more fun, but he’s the last person you want to think about now, so you happily join them. Now, though, you’re starting to regret ever coming here. “If he’s really single like you said, then it shouldn’t be a big deal to ask for it.”

“Well, since you want it so badly, why don’t you ask him directly for it instead?” you snap, feeling anger begin to trickle. All you wanted was just one day where you don’t have to think of him, but of course they had to bring him up. It’s also annoying how they can never seem to get the message across that you don’t want them dating him. “Why do I have to be the messenger?”

“We haven’t seen him much. Doesn’t he always walk you to work?”

“He’s been busy with his job, that’s all.” And also because I’m avoiding him – so now he’s avoiding me too.

“He’s a teacher, right?”

“Oh, come on, guys, don’t be so dense,” your senpai chugged her drink rather loudly, catching the attention of your nosy co-workers who wouldn’t stop pestering you for his number. “Look at how uncomfortable she looks. It’s obvious she doesn’t want you guys to be involved with her friend for a reason. Think of how weird it is for her too if ever her co-worker and best friend dated. She’s going to feel like a third wheel.”

“I’m not—”

“That makes sense,” your co-worker nodded beside you, “Are you sure you just don’t like him though?”

“Ew, why would I?” the food began to taste bitter through your lies, “He may be tall and attractive, but as his roommate, I’ve seen his ugly side. Satoru is a complete slob and can’t even cook to save his life.”

“I don’t mind cooking for him all the time if I were to be his little housewife.”

“That’s never gonna happen,” your words came out harsher than it was, and you laugh it off with a wave of your hand when your co-workers’ eyes widened. “I’ve been living with him for six months and he’s never brought anyone home or told me he’s going on a date. I told you already, he’s a no strings attached kind of guy. He’s nothing but a one night stand.”

“You have to admit he’s still sexy though.”

Right. You hide your groan through another shot because there’s no way of convincing them otherwise. As much as you hate to admit, you’re actually jealous on how freely they could talk about him like that, but then again, it’s not like you and Satoru were dating – or would ever date, for that matter.

They start to leave one by one when it starts to get late, leaving only you who’s still desperate to avoid Satoru. Nothing prepares you for when the sky darkens and a storm comes pouring just as you’ve left the closing shop, the rain drenching and soaking your clothes through and through. Running under the nearest tree for shelter, you shiver. It’s cold – way too cold – and curse yourself for not bringing a darned umbrella.

The nearest bus stop is like what, fifteen to twenty minutes away? Your teeth are chattering and your legs are shaking, and you fumble through your phone as you dial a number you know by heart before you even realize what you’re doing. “S-Satoru?”

“Y/N,” the surprise is unmasked in his voice, something shuffling in the background before it falls silent. “Is everything okay?”

“Uhm, are you busy right now? It’s fine if you are, I’m just—”

“I’m training with Yuuji, but what is it?”

“Listen, I,” you inhale sharply when coldness bursts through your body, making you shiver and press yourself closer to tree to get away from the rain. Above you, thunder crackles before the rain grows heavier and angrier. “I forgot to bring an umbrella and I’m absolutely soaked right now. The nearest bus stop is fifteen minutes away and all the buildings here look so shady—”

“I’ll be on my way. Text me where you are,” You nod and thank him, too cold and numb to realize you’ve just broken days of silence. You lose track of time under there, hugging yourself until your lips turn blue. It doesn’t take long before Satoru shows up minutes later, his hair equally drenched and sticking flat to his eyes free from his blindfold while he pants, hand on his knees. “Thank goodness you’re safe. I rushed here so fast I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

After seeing Satoru drenched like that, something snaps within you. He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact the rain is unforgiving as it slaps the pavement, and your heart breaks when you see that he’s more concerned for you – even after you’ve given him the silent treatment. “You idiot! Now you’re soaking wet too, you’re going to get sick!”

“Highly unlikely,” he shrugs. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“But what about—” Satoru suddenly carries you before draping his coat over your head, running until he found a cab to hail. He immediately asks the driver to turn up the heater while you tremble on top of him, not caring anymore that you’re sticking so close to him for heat.

Satoru doesn’t let you go all the way inside the apartment. He sets you down on the couch where you take off your wet clothes in haste, too cold with teeth chattering that you silently take the hoodie and boxers Satoru offers you, making sure to keep his gaze averted the whole time. Once fully dressed, you snuggle back into the sofa’s comfort, stiffening when the couch dips beside you.

Not a moment later, Satoru towel-dries your hair, leaving your mouth and throat dry with guilt. Even after you’ve unnecessarily been a bitch to him, he’s still so kind with you.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Satoru...” you twiddle with your thumbs just as he starts to ruffle the towel in your hair, making sure to squeeze water out of the strands as he dries it. “About what happened the other day—”

“It didn’t happen if you don’t want it to,” his voice is cold’ monotonous and so emotionless you’re rendered speechless. “You can forget about it.”

“I...”

“You regret it, right?” he’s done with drying your hair, and he stands up to place the wet towels in the sink as you watch him stride all the way there. He’s changed his clothes too; looking comfortable in a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants, looking every bit the domestic boyfriend you’ve always wanted but can never have. “It’s fine. We can forget about it and go back to normal,” to emphasize his point, Satoru winks at you, though it does nothing but make your heart sink.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” your voice is small; hesitant and wavering with fear. “What if...the only reason I pulled away is because I wanted more of you?”

Satoru’s back freezes as he sets the towel aside. At this point, your heart is pulsing on your tongue, and you dig your nails onto your thighs when Satoru sits down next to you, right next to you. He’s silent the whole time; eyes calculatedly piercing through yours. Your breath hitches when his hands that are burning hot against your cold skin cups your jaw before his thumb runs across your lips, his eyes turning dark at your reactions.

“And what if I said I felt the same way?”

“I,” you gasp, closing your eyes because it all feels so surreal. “I like you, Satoru. I like you a lot and I—” he doesn’t let you finish. Soon, you find yourself in his lap with his hands cupping your cheeks while he smashes his lips onto yours.

Satoru is absolutely feral. He’s breathing hard and almost angry, even, with the way his teeth are biting down to nibble on your lips. You moan when he drags you closer, your clothed centre rubbing on his thigh with delicious friction. “You have no idea,” he rasps down on your lips, “how much I’ve fucking liked you ever since we were kids,” Satoru pushes his hoodie aside, revealing your sweet neck to him, and he doesn’t waste his time in sucking and abusing the poor flesh so he can mark you as his. “I’ve always wanted you, Y/N, it’s always you, always you.”

You fist his hoodie when Satoru sinks his teeth down into the juncture of your neck, his hands curious and exploring every inch of your body. He knows you’re naked underneath his clothes, but it’s a different thing when he actually feels your breasts right on his palm. Satoru tweaks the hardened bud in his fingers, growling when you moan at the contact and use his thigh to get off.

“You—” you gasp as you expose your neck to him, wild and needy as you keep rubbing your heat over his thigh. “—talk way too fucking much,” you scold, finally pushing his lips away from your neck. Satoru chuckles at your eagerness but you silence him by flinging his boxers off of your body and somewhere far away, exposing your heat slick with arousal right in front of him. His pupils blow in excitement, hands coming up to grab at your hips, but his attention is taken away when you nibble on his ear to whisper, “Shut up and fuck me.”

The simple command is enough to make his patience snap. In a flash, you’re pinned underneath him, whining and moaning when his finger meets no resistance as he slips it inside. “You’re that needy, huh?” he laughs even louder when you lose it, humping yourself on his finger because it’s not enough.

“Satoru,” you beg, clutching his bicep when he adds another finger in. “More.”

His fingers are so long, hitting places that your small ones could never reach. He begins to scissor his way in, his fingers deliciously rubbing against your velvety walls while pumping them inside and out in a speed that causes you to squelch around him.

It’s absolutely lewd how you’re eagerly spread out before him, but your head is clouded with lust, no longer hindered by shyness out of your need to cum. Your chest is rising heavily, his thumb now rubbing against your clit as he coaxes you to cum. “Tell me what you want, baby,” he kisses your cheeks, eyelids, nose, anywhere but your lips, his voice so gentle and innocent as if he’s not knuckle deep inside you. “Tell me how you want me.”

“Inside,” you whine, gasping when he brushes against a really sensitive spot that has you clamping down on him. “‘Toru, fuck, just fuck me.”

“Beg for it,” he smiles against your skin, relentless and harsh as he keeps pushing inside you. You feel him everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Another finger adds in until you’re dripping enough on his palm and staining the couch, but neither of you care. “I said, beg for it.”

“No,” you hold back, nearly crying out when he pulls your fingers out of you. That sudden emptiness is back again, but you don’t want to beg. You’ve never begged another man before, and this won’t be the first time you’ll be doing so either. You refuse to let him have the upper hand despite the crystal clear fact you’re already soaking wet for him, but because you’re stubborn, you only fumble with his sweatpants to spring his cock free.

He’s already dripping with pre-cum from the slit, his cock hard and angry. Despite his arousal, Satoru stops you from going further, using only one hand to trap both your wrists. “Beg for it,” he demands again, his other fist already pumping down on his shaft.

You nearly cry at the sight. Both of you are aware that Satoru is capable of pleasuring himself, but it’s not that easy for you. Your small, dainty fingers will never be parallel to the pleasure his long cock could give you. All you had to do was beg for it. He’s right there, within reach, if only you’d just –

Impatient for your answer, Satoru takes you by the hips and discards your hoodie in the process, sinking you down his cock, inch by delicious inch. You don’t hold back from the sensual and high-pitched moan that leaves your lips. He’s long, and the tip of his cock just about brushes your cervix when he bottoms out. He feels so good, so warm and huge and filling you up right where you want him to be. Your head falls down on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips, but Satoru has had enough.

“Fuck, look at you,” he presses on the bulge of his cock visible through your abdomen. “You’re so fucking small – how do you take me so well? I could ruin you. Do you want that? Do you want me to ruin you?”

“Yes, yes, fuck.”

“You think you can just leave me hanging like that, huh?” he slaps your ass, eliciting another moan from you and making you clench around his cock. Satoru falters for a moment. Before you can react, he stands up, your legs wrapped around his waist with nothing but his tip hitting inside you. “You’ve been so fucking mean – leaving me wanting you like that and ignoring me for days. Do you think you deserve this, huh?” Satoru kicks his door open at the same time he loosens his hold around your ass, making you slide down his length the next second.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out just as Satoru begins to bounce you, your breasts following the motion of him fucking deep into you. “Fuck, Toru, that’s too—”

He’s so eager to fuck you, to make a mess out of you and have you losing your mind over his cock that he doesn’t even wait until you’re both on the bed. You no longer register when your back hits the pillow, or how your arms are frozen when he pins it above your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he watches you clench around him. You’re so small and his eyes zero in on the way your abdomen bulges then flattens again every time he pounds into you, rolling his hips in a way that has you screaming and thighs quaking. “Beautiful, beautiful, perfect,” the moment his hands grip at your hips to pin you down, you know he’s not going to stop. And you don’t want him to.

Satoru latches his lips around your right breast, gently grazing his teeth over it while his other hand pinches and rolls the pebbled nipple between his fingers. He feels so good – and you’re crying already by the time you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer.

The room is filled with the smell of sex, the sound of skin slapping against skin combined with his breathy grunts and your moans like heaven on his ears. Satoru wants you to feel how much he loves you – how much he adores you – and the pace he sets is torturous. He snaps his hips against yours and presses down on the bulge of his cock through your belly, chuckling when you tighten more around him.

Your head lols to the side, tears falling down your pretty face because of how rough he’s being. But you don’t complain, not when he’s filling you in so deep and he’s kissing you everywhere, touching you everywhere, making you feel nothing else and nobody else but him.

“You’re amazing,” he rasps, watching the way your tight cunt sucks him in greedily as if you don’t want him to go anywhere else. “You take me in so well – you really want me to destroy you, huh?”

“Satoru, please,” you finally plead, “I-I’m cumming, I want you, I need you, oh,” you squeal when he finally lets your arms free. You look so precious, so innocent, and he doesn’t let up his pace. He plants his feet into the ground and his strokes begin to grow sloppy, your tight walls encouraging him to go faster, go deeper.

If possible, Satoru is only even more fuelled with the way you look so precious and innocent in that moment. His touch is gentle in comparison to the way he’s mercilessly plowing into you, using his thumb to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks. He knows he’s too big for you, that much is obvious from how much you’re already overstimulated just by his size, but your nails sink down on the flesh of his ass as a silent plead for more.

“Fuuuuck, I’m so close!”

“Yeah?” He fondled your clit, loving the sight of your small body creaming down on his cock. “Come for me, sweet girl. I want to feel you coming on my cock. Come on, tell me you’re mine. You’re made me for aren’t you?”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck,” you squeal, throwing your head back for a second when he keeps hitting your g-spot that has you seeing stars. Your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets behind you as he keeps impaling you with his cock right then and there.

You looked perfect; so perfect to him that he’s basically using you for his own pleasure at this moment. Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, back arching and nipples brushing against his chest.

In that moment, you grow needy to have him even closer, tilting up to blindly search for his lips. Satoru complies; leaning down and leaving open mouthed breathy kisses that’s a mix of you moaning and crying around him, while he struggles to do so when he’s cursing at the feeling of you coating his cock with your juices. Satoru looks down at your tiny frame trapped in his arms, his voice husky as he groans once he saw both of your arousal absolutely leaking out of your wet cunt.

He’s so close but you’re already over the edge, scratching at his back at the overstimulation. You’re still so sensitive from when you came and Satoru doesn’t slow one down one bit. He loses his rhythm as his thrusts go sloppy, and Satoru buries his face in your neck as his cock twitches inside you until he bursts with his cum leaking out of your hole.

Satoru’s arms give out beneath you, his chest colliding with yours but not enough that he’s crushing you with his weight. You’re both breathing hard and panting, his dick softening inside you.

He pulls back a moment later to slide out his sensitive cock, wincing while he watches pools of cum gather in your pussy before it drips out. It isn’t until he’s witnessing the mess he’s made he realizes how you’ve been so good for him; taking him all the way in despite your quivering frame. It dawns on him now just how tiny you are when he pulls you close to him; you’re practically hanging off his chest with how small your body is.

He wonders how you’re able to fit all of him, but he’s grateful nevertheless. Satoru shows his appreciation by peppering kisses all over your face, his hand snaking down to caress your inner thighs.

“Hmm,” you moan into the kiss, jolting when his knuckles brush against your sensitive clit. “Satoru, no,” you whine while pushing his hand away, and he shushes you with another kiss. “’M too sensitive, please...”

“It’s fine, cupcake, it’s fine,” his nickname for you is back again, and you lean closer to him just as he begins to massage your sore legs. “You did so well for me, cupcake, you know that? You’re such a good girl for me,” too fucked out to have a comprehensive answer, you only nod in response, spreading your legs open again and ignoring the warm stickiness between your thighs as Satoru kneads your abused flesh. You feel him kiss your temple before he leaves to get a towel and cleans you up. Meanwhile, you’re so tired you’re about to doze out in his bed.

“Hey,” he soothes, bundling you up in his arms until you’re tucked in the safety of his body. So small, he coos inside his head, watching as you fold yourself even smaller while your eyes flutter. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you sigh into his shoulder, “I feel good. Thank you.”

Satoru doesn’t really know what you’re thanking him for. He feels like he’s the one who’s mostly indebted to you after everything you’ve done for him. You’ve already fallen asleep before he gets the chance to tell you how he feels, so Satoru only covers you both under his blanket, making sure there’s no more space between you out of fear you’ll distance yourself from him again.

But he doesn’t have to worry about that because you’re right next to him, and you’re never out of reach.