#“people in the past were so dumb and selfish”

[maroononthemoon]

You know how people will see depictions of people during the black plague being like "nothing's happening here, people in other places are dying because they're gross godless heathens, but we don't have that here, everything is fine for Us because we are Strong and Pure" and react like "wow how stupid were those people just ignoring and denying the reality all around them" ??

How many of those same people right now also say "covid is over" do you think? 🤔

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[explorevenus]

doll parts ♡ leon kennedy x f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 3.6k

description: leon may not take the best care of himself, but he certainly takes care of you. it's his favorite pastime.

tags/warnings: vendetta leon, established relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dollification, daddy kink, oral sex (f receiving), mirror sex

a/n: this piece was commissioned by my lovely bestie @dollfacefantasy, who knows me so well in that she knew i was foaming at the mouth for an excuse to write dollification w leon >:3 AND it's based off of that one scene in euphoria where nate dresses cassie up LIKE GET OUTTA TOWNNNNN I WAS SO JUICED TO WRITE THIS !!!!!!!!!!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

You were mad. You were so mad, all the time lately, and you were past the point of wondering if you had any right to be. 

It was late, nearly half past midnight, the only sound in the dim house being the unrelenting patter of fat raindrops on the windows. Leon, too, was late, like he so often was. Of course, you weren’t allowed to complain or ask questions about his high paying job, or his whereabouts, or the secrecy, where all those injuries came from or why he didn’t return when he said he would for the hundredth time.

All your life, you thought relationships like this existed only in fiction, the trope of the distant workaholic who dismisses his partner’s concerns with nothing but his wallet and his sexual prowess, piling diamond encrusted bandages upon months worth of neglect, bottled up grievances and novels left unsaid. It was a concept confined to old movies and paperbound romances as far as you were concerned, before you met Leon.

You weren’t unreasonable, and you weren’t dumb. You had gathered that his mysterious government job really was important and strictly confidential, and you trusted that he was telling you as much of the truth as was permitted by the powers that be. You knew he cared about you, you knew he would rather be home with you than running around at the beck and call of the most powerful people in the country. You knew it was never his intention to hurt you.

But your awareness of his love for you didn’t make it any easier to swallow the unending cycle of broken promises, nor the visible deterioration of his mental and physical health while his ‘work trips’ became increasingly frequent until they all started to just blend together. 

You became numb to it after a while. It seemed selfish to demand his time and attention when he couldn’t help his circumstances. Even bringing it up made you feel like a monster, and it was all because you loved him so completely.

And you loved him so completely. You had seen him cry with laughter and sob with grief. You had seen him burn toast, fall asleep with the TV on, forget how to tie a tie, dread a mundane phone call, mumble to himself when he thought no one was listening. You knew his philosophies on life and love and death, you knew him heart and soul, and so too did he know you.

Thus, you just ate it, wore yourself down until you finally accepted that all those bottled up grievances, novels left unsaid and extravagant bribes were worth the privilege of being his lover.

Your eyes felt dry as you stared at the clock, counting in your tired mind exactly how many hours had passed since he was supposed to be home. It had been a long, rough day that would have been draining enough on its own, but the evening proved to disappoint even further. 

Leon heard about the karmic disaster that was your day through a handful of rant texts you’d sent over the course of it, each one more unfortunate than the last. Sympathetic to your senseless string of rotten luck, he promised to cut away from work an hour early to return home to you with your favorite dinner and enough doting on to make your teeth rot. He did not, of course, come home early, and not only that, but he didn’t come home at all, and you couldn’t get ahold of him.

If this wasn’t such a frequent occurrence, you might have been more worried about his safety, or even more angry at him for leaving you hanging on a day like this one, but you had become so familiar with this whole song and dance that your feelings around it were dulled.

You were just about to give up and go to bed when your phone lit up with a notification. Following the several undelivered texts you tried to send asking if he was okay, he’d given a simple response that you knew would redirect the course of your whole entire night.

Headed home in 15. Be in the dollhouse

You had long since garnered that the dollhouse was more for him than it was for you, even if he seemed to believe it was the other way around. It was nice to be pampered and doted on and styled like a Barbie, until it became a way for him to avoid talking to you about anything important. But that was neither here nor there. Dolls don’t talk, and they most certainly don’t complain.

With a deep, measured breath you exited the bedroom and turned down the hall, to what used to be a spare room but was now more aptly describable as a boudoir. The door creaked open to reveal the delicate, feminine space, heavy satin drapes blocking out any potential prying eyes. Between two solid oak wardrobes was an ornate standing mirror, the walk-in closet to the right overflowing with opulent clothing that hardly ever saw the light of day, just the familiar warmth of Leon’s cerulean eyes. 

At the other end of the room was an antique, three-mirror vanity, stocked carefully with luxury makeup, designer perfumes and every last tool one might need to style your hair, down to a box of satin ribbons in every color with which to tie it back. Leon was never one to do things half-way, and dolling you up was no exception.

Piece by piece, you stripped yourself of your clothes, hands moving as slowly and purposefully as his own would, as if by instinct. Just like a doll would be, you undressed to nothing but a pair of delicate lace panties, and you took your place at the vanity, your posture straight and your hands folded neatly in your lap.

All there was left to do now was wait for Leon, to stare at yourself blankly in the mirror and ruminate, to let your thoughts scream and echo around in your head until it would all collapse into silence, putting you in the proper headspace of an empty-headed little Barbie for Leon to play with.

You didn’t so much as flinch at the sound of the garage door opening, or move a muscle at all at the muffled thudding of his footsteps ascending the stairs. Your lips parted with a slow, deep breath, your posture straightening up one final time before the knob turned, and you watched the door open behind you through the reflection in the mirror.

He looked tired. To be candid, he looked like shit. It was evident he had left immediately from whatever dangerous, world-saving thing he was doing to rush home to you, not taking the time to change or freshen up.

Leon approached you gently, reaching over your shoulder to let his rough fingers cup your neck and throat, tilting your head up just enough to make you look at yourself, and to adjust your posture.

“Such a precious little doll, sitting so pretty for daddy,” He whispered, stooping down to plant a kiss at the crown of your head. His hands smelled like iron and gunpowder, and his breath smelled faintly of malted liquor poorly masked with mint. If only you could have confronted him about it. You just swallowed, staring straight ahead where he was directing your gaze.

Reaching over your shoulder, Leon’s steady hand plucked a detangling brush from the vanity, running his fingers through your hair carefully with his other hand. He felt through the length of your soft locks, mindful as always not to tug at any of the little knots he discovered here and there. Shortly after, he was running the brush through your hair with gentle veneration, delicate, even strokes that nearly threatened to put you to sleep.

Leon watched your expression in the mirror as your lashes fluttered, your head lolling back as if mindlessly chasing the attention. A low chuckle fell from his parted lips. “Feels good, huh? I’ll bet it does. Your hair is so messy, baby… You weren’t playing by yourself all day while daddy was gone, were you?”

He was teasing you. A subtle grin begged to tug at your lips, and you let it. Still, you were sure to shake your head ‘no’-- after all, you couldn’t have him thinking you had taken advantage of his extended absence to be naughty, even if you had been awfully tempted to. 

Carding his fingers through your freshly brushed hair, he hummed in mock consideration for a moment, like he couldn’t decide whether or not he believed you. Finally, he turned you around in your chair to face him, tilting your chin up so he could give you a kiss. “I know my baby would never. Always the perfect princess for me, even when I’m not always the perfect daddy.”

That last part came out a little quieter, like he was ashamed to even say it out loud, but somehow still, it was the loudest part to you. You softened.

He noticed, and he, too, softened. The tension in the air dissipated a bit– it was still somewhere around here, likely waiting right outside the door, but it was no longer actively present, at least. Leon gave you another sweet kiss, this one to your forehead, before gently correcting your posture again.

Pushing your hair back with a soft, fluffy headband, he opened up one of the drawers in the vanity and began to take a few things out. First, a light moisturizer, which he massaged into your skin with a jade roller that was cool to the touch and just as relaxing as always. Your moisturizer was followed by a gentle under-eye balm, a thin layer of primer and a hydrating lip oil.

The way he moved was so fluid, so methodical, like a conductor before an orchestra, and you were his masterpiece. In Leon’s eyes, you might as well have been carved out of the finest, most expensive marble, and you were to be treated no less delicately.

He stepped out just for a moment to wash his hands, a clean slate for the next step of the process, your makeup.

You honestly don’t know how he did it. Judging by some of the techniques and products he would use, you could only guess he must have been doing his research online or something, though where he found the time to do so was another question entirely. His lines weren’t always clean, his blending wasn’t always perfectly smooth, yet somehow you always still felt he’d managed to upstage you with the finished product– perhaps it was because he could see you in a way you couldn’t see yourself.

“Daddy?” You chanced a whisper, but he was quick to press a finger to the plush of your lips, ever so gently.

“Shh… Just sit nice and still for me, alright, sugar?”

You nodded, and he resumed his work with a careful touch.

Soft brushes and plush sponges worked their way around the surface of your face, applying shadow and powders and liner, with Leon holding his breath now and then to ensure a steady hand. Your cheeks were rouged, your lips were glossed, your lashes were carefully curled and it was all topped off with a cooling mist of setting spray and a gentle kiss to the forehead.

“There you are, hm? My beautiful baby dolly,” He mused, reaching forward to tilt your head up by your chin, then to the left, then to the right, checking over his handiwork from every angle. Adding a dash of blush to the tip of your nose, he deemed your makeup complete. “Just perfect.”

Slowly, Leon turned your chair around again, allowing you to look at yourself, and yeah. Wow.

You looked gorgeous, you were glowing even. All of your best features were adorned with purposeful swipes of blush, shade and highlight, your eyes dreamy and sweet, your skin smooth and radiant. He let you look at yourself for a moment, just admiring the expression of awe on you– you were always exceptionally stunning, of course, but you looked all the sweeter in these sacred moments in which you recognized your own beauty.

Leon rested one hand on your shoulder to recapture your attention, his other hand coming forward to stroke your cheek. Your long lashes fluttered as you met his eyes in the mirror, a silent signal that your focus had returned to him. Now the hand that caressed your cheekbone was coming forward to take your own. He helped you up from your seat at the vanity and across the room, to the plush chaise lounge in front of that standing mirror.

The room filled with the quiet noises of rummaging, Leon sifting through drawers and racks of hangers stuffed with what had to have been thousands of dollars worth of designer, a stark contrast to his own attire of largely plain black shirts and jeans that had seen better days.

But you were his princess. Leon was just Leon, and Leon couldn’t possibly deserve as much as a princess.

Turning over his shoulder, Leon approached you with a simple pair of white stockings in hand, sinking to his knees right before the chaise lounge to put them on you. Your ankle looked so slight and delicate in his strong hand as he lifted your leg, drawing a line of kisses up the inside of your calf to follow while he rolled the stocking up higher and higher, until the hem reached just above your knee.

He repeated the action with your other leg, the movement of his hands fluid and practiced, but his breaths were becoming shorter, his kisses a little wetter and needier on your skin. Your own breaths were quickly falling in sync with his own just by watching him dial in on your sex, his calloused hands propping your legs up onto his shoulders so he could shuffle closer.

Gripping you by the hips to angle you up to his liking, he buried his nose into the seat of your thin lace panties and breathed you in deep, as though he were starving for oxygen. The tip of his nose nuzzled forward to brush your panties aside, and just as soon as your slit was bared to him, his tongue was darting out to taste it.

He spread it flat in a slow, languid stripe from your weeping hole all the way to your throbbing clit, his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves to coax it from beneath its hood. You sucked in a breath, your manicured nails printing into the lush material of the furniture you were perched on, trying as hard as you could to keep quiet and still, to allow him to guide you, to play with you as he so desired. Luckily, he wasn’t in too stern of a mood this evening anyway– you weren’t likely to be reprimanded for small errors like that, especially not while he was otherwise occupied.

“Fuck,” He growled lowly into your cunt, leaving white prints where he gripped your pillowy thighs just to ground himself. You could feel his body growing warm as he lost himself in you, lapping up every drop of your arousal with greed. For just a moment, his dilated, denim eyes flicked up to look at you, his rosy cheeks gently squished between your quaking thighs as he puffed out, “Just look at you, my dolly… Daddy’s favorite little toy…”

Your eyes screwed shut with pleasure as his hot mouth met your center again, and when they fluttered open, you caught sight of it all in the mirror. It nearly knocked the wind out of you.

Your dainty legs spread out over your gruff boyfriend’s broad shoulders, adorned in delicate white stockings that looked pure and bright against his tight black t-shirt; his sandy blonde hair damp and messy as he wedged himself between your thighs and drank from you like a fountain; your hair and makeup fit for a gala as your expression contorted with rapture… it could have been an oil painting.

Every swipe of his tongue up the length of you, every flutter along your swollen bud, every deep, wanton, needy groan had your eyes rolling back in your head, your thighs trembling and tightening around his jaw. Every inch of you felt featherlight with electricity as he worked his magic on you, more than capable of making you cum in three minutes flat, but opting not to for the fun of it.

Not that you were complaining. At times he could get carried away in his teasing, but tonight was not one of those nights. Leon wasn’t going to waste your time dangling you over the edge much longer than was strictly necessary. As soon as he noticed you were having trouble sitting still, quiet whines and sighs of pleasure occasionally slipping out from between your glossy lips, he knew it would be unfair to string you along any further.

Leon was practically making out with your folds, the room quiet aside from the slick sounds and lustful whimpers that accompanied his dining of you. Soon it was joined with the low, husky timbre of his voice as he groaned into you, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna make a pretty mess all over daddy’s face?”

In all honesty, you barely registered his words, but all it ever took to get you nodding like a bobblehead was that upward lilt in his tone that indicated he was asking you something. That was all you needed to know that the correct answer was yes.

Smirking briefly to himself as he witnessed your eager and rapt approval, he doubled the intensity of his efforts, his hands wrenching tight into your thighs to pull you flush against his face, but more importantly, to keep you from wriggling away. He didn’t bother to shush you when a shocked yelp bubbled out of you, your body jerking in response to the added stimulation. After all, it was the response he was expecting, and the response he yearned for.

Your shaking hands darted forward to claw at his hair, half-lidded eyes catching your reflection in the mirror once more. Your skin was warm, your breasts heaving as your spine drew into a fine arch and your lips parted to gasp in all the oxygen you could get to your dizzy brain, heels digging into the prominent muscles in his back. He felt every quiver and twitch of your muscles and it only spurred him on. He ate you up like you were his last meal.

Your vision went white as your climax crashed over you hard– the sounds he made were obscene, a satisfied groan vibrating from deep in his chest at the syrupy sweet taste of your arousal. It was an essence he couldn’t possibly get enough of.

As you laid there panting, your legs shaking after the tension in them released, Leon’s eyes dragged up the length of your body with pride. He carefully pulled your panties back into place with a sweet kiss to the bow in the center of them and an affectionate pat to the thigh. 

“There’s a good girl,” He hummed, crawling up from between your legs to kiss you, his mouth still warm and slightly slick with your own spend. “A perfect little doll. All I have to do is pull the right strings to get you to sing for me, huh, princess?”

Once more, you nodded, eyes fluttering shut just for a moment as he kissed your forehead. Then, he stood to his full height again, one hand taking yours and the other steadying you by the dip of your waist as he raised you up to join him, wobbly knees be damned. After all, he wasn’t finished playing dress-up yet. He took a moment to ensure you had regained your balance enough to be able to stand without assistance before opening up one of the wardrobes in search of the remainder of your outfit.

Moments like these only piqued your curiosity in terms of how his brain worked. Sure, you’d been dating for a long time and it was safe to say you knew him quite well, but his penchant for compartmentalization never ceased to astound you. He possessed the sometimes frightening ability to just switch his brain from one mode to the next.

You were brought back to reality once more by the feeling of his lips on your neck. He murmured into your ear, “Arms up, darlin’,” and he barely even finished saying it before you were complying.

You lifted your arms, and he slipped a new dress over your head. There it was, the compensation for being home late, for dropping off the face of the Earth again. The dress was flattering and soft, a delicate blush pink color with embroidered details along the bust and white lace hemming. He drew up the zipper without resistance, and as it reached its apex, the fabric hugged your form perfectly, as though the garment itself was made with you in mind.

Leon kneeled down to straighten out your stockings, and then the skirt of your dress, his eyes scanning over you meticulously in search of any little imperfections that might need fixing. Finding none, he wandered over to where he’d left his jacket, fishing a baby blue box out of the pocket. You had become quite familiar with that blue lately– Tiffany.

Nestled in the slender box was a dainty diamond necklace that now rested right at your collarbones, the clasp in the back secured with a smooch. He carded his fingers through your hair one last time before turning you around to look at yourself in the mirror, his hands rested on your hips, head stooped low to smother the crook of your throat in kisses.

“What do you think?” He whispered in your ear, nibbling gently at the shell.

“Beautiful,” You replied just as quietly, “Thank you, daddy.”

[madeofstardust17]

So what really bothers me about this season was how they reducer every single character to their most basic cliches, when in previous seasons they were so much more than that. Hear me out:

Luther was made into this happy-go-lucky, dumb himbo, when in reality, he's a guy who takes stuff seriously, who does his best to take care of everyone, and has emotional depth. They took that away from him. He's smart, even if they try to make it out like he isn't. They reduced him to just endless positivity and a pretty body (and even that they turned into a joke, giving him an ape body again and ignoring all his trauma related to that).

Diego was reduced to this useless, bitter, suburban dad, who thinks he's owed more than he has. In reality, he was so excited to be a dad. He's a good detective, he's empathetic, he has this sensitivity that he tries to hide but shines when he talks to others. More than anything, he's a provider, he thrives when he has someone to protect, to care for.

Allison has always been a badass, and a good mom. They made that shine, but she was so much more than that. She was complex, and endlessly optimistic, fighting for what was right. She was a good sister, and they made her bitter about that too.

Klaus was reduced to just humor, and not even well done. His little adventures used to mean something for him, and to the plot. They just made him a whore and did nothing for him. The only good thing I will say was that they took his addiction seriously for once. Still, he was useless to the plot, when once he was the key they were all missing.

Five. Oh my fucking God. They did him the most dirty. He would come off as aloof and uncaring, but underneath it, we all understood he loved his family more than anything, that he did everything in his power to protect them. They reduced him to that facade, they made him cold and selfish, willing to hurt his sibling just for his own personal gain.

With Ben, they spent the entire past season making him into this guy who was really rubbish at being the bad guy, who wanted a real family deep down. They reduced him to this asshole who spent the entire season swearing up and down that the umbrellas where not his family.

With Viktor, they tried to make him this cool, confident, independent (apparently womanizer?) dude who gave zero shits about his family. WHEN ALL HE EVER WANTED WAS HIS SIBLINGS' RESPECT. HE WANTED TO BE PART OF THE TEAM. And then they proceeded to make him work??? With his abusive dad???? Who suddenly cared???? And he ignored the rest of his siblings until the last possible minute.

Lila was always the cool, independent, secure woman, who didn't really need a man. They spent two seasons assuring us that she could be on her own just fine, but Diego completed her. He was the perfect person for her, bc he could give her what she craved, a family, people she could rely on. Instead on continuing that, finding a way to balance her family and a job (or something) to let her be something more than just a bored suburban mom, they made her into this insecure woman in her marriage, who just tosses it all aside for FIVE. Who is so incompatible with her that is not even funny.

If you've read this entire rant, congrats, you have my respect.

[everythingseasoning]

love, forever?

vampire! Suguru Geto x reader x vampire! Satoru Gojo

Tags: Morality, and selfishness vs selflessness themes. // Vampire! Suguru and Satoru, who are vampire hunters that protect humans from evil ones. // Blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. // AU characters. Satoru is clingier and more emotional than his canon self. Suguru despises the strong (vampires) for hurting the weak (humans). // New vampire lore ;). // Angst. Suguru battling his inner demons, trying to do good despite his vampire nature and urges. // Reader has multiple targets on her back (Naoya appearance!) // Both Suguru and Satoru fall for reader. // Eventual smut in later chapters. //

Chapter Warnings: College party drinking, Reader slaps Satoru, Mentions of blood and feeding, Reader falls in a ditch (LOL), Suggestiveness, MDNI

Chapter Word Count: ~4.3k (it’s worth it!)

NOTE: even if you you saw the teaser already, or any edit of the teaser, please read this chapter, as I’ve edited it a lot, and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;)

Ch. 01 | Living Haunted

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. You could see that she might be his type. Green jealousy explodes in your chest, along with a poisonous, deep sense of insecurity. The horrible feelings move through your body. Was he moving on already? Did you really mean so little to him? Would she be the one to make him stay?

You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the painful twisting motion of your heart would be soon dulled. Coca Cola, sherbet, and yakult alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes. 

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?” 

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat when you see such a beautiful stranger. 

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, chuckling as you braid his hair, the nonfiction book he’s been reading facedown in his lap as your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; The warmth and sturdiness of his hands against your face as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right. 

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fleeting dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace, your face buried in his sturdy chest— that feeling of being cared for— 

You missed him bad, with every fiber of your being. 

Suguru is still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and you still came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following? 

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply. 

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party. 

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming. 

“And you are?” 

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go here, don’t you know?”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?” 

Satoru just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky person. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

Satoru waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?” 

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not ever met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him. 

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” he says. 

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your focus isn’t on that.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with. 

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. You’re hurt. You’re aching in confusion about what wasn’t good enough about you. You’re angry and betrayed— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear, “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat of the stuffy, overcrowded room. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking— 

And he’s gone. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle. 

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue. He’s spitting it out back into the bottle immediately. 

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of lovely bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam. 

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs. 

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, then?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru notices, but says nothing, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper. 

“And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love—d her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d have missed it.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru. 

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They do. But there’s something the myths forgot. Some sort of change is written in a vampire’s eyes. There always has been, and always will be, some sort of difference from a person’s antecedent human form, and their new, evolved one, hidden in their eyes after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy. 

That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. He woke up with them, the day after everything changed. 

Suguru’s tired reflection stares back at him, rich amethyst irises shining like glossy, sharp stars in the mirror. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness. 

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave. He grimaces at the knowing that his vampire instincts made him crave you dangerously, the one he loves, more than anything else. It was cursed, his very existence. He was turned into a walking, sentient, functioning monster. The blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly.

“So,” Satoru grunts with chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires. It’s something Suguru was grateful for, considering his job of being a vampire slayer. 

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand. 

But Satoru presses on anyway, nodding, looking bored. 

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all, on that unwelcomed, fateful night. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget— You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.” 

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. If you and I didn’t always ask for consent before feeding, I’d never have believed she would be okay with that,” Satoru’s eyes gleam playfully. Suguru doesn’t reply, and Satoru deflates. 

“You’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.” 

Ah. The truth comes out. Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes. 

“Satoru, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out. He curses silently in disgust at what he has become. 

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching. 

“Well. I need to feed again.” 

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door. Did he need the black coat? No. Not at all. Vampires don’t get cold. They’re already icy to the touch. But it helps him blend in, both with humans and the night. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot. 

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. 

He slips through the shadows. 

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you. 

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

If Satoru was being honest, this was a chance to understand the enemy. The golden goal would be to get Suguru to forget about you and move on, so his best friend could finally look and be alive again, the two of them happily slaying the vampires that hurt humans— and this was the first step in his plan. 

“Hey,” he nearly purrs, slinking around you as you take a step forward— stumbling a bit— 

Cold fingers grip you firmly, holding you upright. Satoru: 1, gravity: 0. 

“You’re fucking making me freeze even more!” You retort, snapping at him as you yank your warm arm away from his cool grasp. You were more than tipsy, but you recalled his rudeness from earlier.

He lets you go and you teeter. “Just trying to help. You sure aren’t shy, huh?” Satoru remarks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” You spit out, the question giving you both Deja vu.

“It means what it means,” Satoru grins. Deja-fucking-vu. You’re getting fed up now, huffing and mumbling under your alcohol-tinged breath, an insult that Satoru’s super hearing picks up on. He stifles a laugh. You keep walking. 

“Wait,” Satoru calls out. You don’t turn around or slow your snail-like pace. He strides up to you in two quick, lengthy steps. He bends, entering your vision, his teeth sharp and protruding from his close lipped smile. Were they always that long?

“I’m great at reading people. And as much as you want to deny it, your heart is beating faster around me.” He suppresses his urge to poke your ribcage, directly over the beating muscle. 

“Shut up,” you growl. 

“You could make me, you know.”

“There you go again with that cliche flirting,” you snort. 

“And here I am again, asking if you’re offering lessons. Though the better question would be if you’re even qualified to give them,” Satoru grins.

He keeps up with your sluggish pace as you try to make your way back to the dorms.

“What do you want from me? Don’t you think it’s weird to be flirting with your best friend’s ex?” 

You think this will shut him up. That, or he’ll have a lame excuse. But for the first time in this second conversation you’re having with him, his answer changes.

“If I’m being honest,” he speaks in a rich, velvety, low voice, and you almost feel entranced, your feet stopping, your gaze resting on Satoru. “I’m doing this for him. And about what I want?” 

You sway in the chilly night breeze, barely registering anything but the sound of his voice. 

“I want to know you better,” he purrs. You’re breathless as he continues, his voice like a siren in your ear, “If you were sober, would you let me bite you?”

He pulls away, and you’re back to your senses in a second. You feel like slapping him again. You almost do, but your hand misses, causing you to stumble. 

“Too slow!” He cackles as you tumble onto the ground, your dress flying up.

You look absolutely humiliated, livid, and harmless from the ground, eyes narrowed in deep hatred for this weirdo. 

“Need a hand?” Satoru smirks, his tall, silhouetted form outlined in light from the lamp behind him. 

You push off the cold cement, ignoring him, fuming silently as you continue your drunken walk to the dorms. That typical pang of hunger hits Satoru out of the blue, impelling him to leave.

“I have to go now. See you around,” Satoru says, before disappearing, the need to find a sober person he can get consent from to feed on overpowering him. 

Suddenly the night is quiet again, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. You keep walking, not realizing that there are no longer lamps to light the way until you’re surrounded by darkness. You aren’t familiar with this part of campus, squinting to see the road sign to your right. You barely make out the words ‘Under Construction’ written in bold black letters, and you shiver as the cool breeze swings through the area. A snapping twig sounds behind you and your eyes widen, fear running through your intoxicated bloodstream. 

“Hello?” You call out. You hate to admit it, but you regret letting Satoru leave. Nobody answers.

You take another step into the darkness, speeding up your pace. Another snap of a twig, and you’re breaking out into a full blown run now— blood rushes through your ears—

Something catches your foot, and you tumble forward, falling down into a ditch, knocking out.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru sighs contentedly, his eyes crossing as he swallows his last gulp of blood for the night. The woman is staring at the ceiling with a lovestruck look, the pleasure from the toxin in his fangs acting like a drug. He releases his lips from her skin, licking at the two puncture marks on her neck. 

“Fuck…” She mewls, leaning in to kiss Satoru. He lets her kiss him.

“Look at me,” Satoru commands gently, his voice taking on a different tone now— and she’s under his spell in an instant. 

“Forget this entire interaction. Forget that you ever saw me. Forget that I fed on you. Don’t question the slight tenderness in your neck tomorrow morning. Associate it with sleeping weirdly,” he murmurs, and she’s caught on his every word, nodding when he stops talking. 

“Good.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Satoru retraces his steps, walking on the road he last saw you on. His teeth have retracted, going back to a normal length, as they always do after he’s fed. Yeah, he may be selfish, jealous, and dislike you— but he’s not a villain. It’s late, you are intoxicated, and he still wants to make sure you’re okay. 

“She’s probably fast asleep back at her dorm. I’m just wasting my time,” he grumbles in the dark. But he just has this funny feeling, like something happened, and now he’s acting like some lovesick fool that worries and checks in on their lover. 

Blood. Satoru smells it, that familiar, rich, sharp scent that sends a rush of electricity through his body. Because he just fed, his brain doesn’t light up as it usually would, and he realizes that somebody is hurt— and that somebody is probably you. 

Satoru’s legs are a blur as he races towards the source—

He stands over a dirt edge, a hole in the path made by the ongoing construction. You lay in the ditch looking like a broken doll, effectively knocked out. There’s a gash on your arm and knee. 

“Fuck,” Satoru curses, quickly climbing down to get to you. He’s by your side in a flash, checking your pulse. It’s normal. He feels the tension in his body drain. You’re probably just passed out from the combination of alcohol and falling in a ditch. Satoru rolls his eyes, huffing, “Idiot,” as he scoops you up into his arms. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

He didn’t know what to do. Leave you in the hallway of the coed dorm? Drop you off at the 24/hour care station? He figured he should do the latter, and so he went. 

He dings the bell at the front desk, shifting to readjust your relaxed body. Ten seconds go by. During that time, Satoru finds himself staring at your face, a few smears of dirt on your skin. You breathe in and out, because you have to. It’s not like him and Suguru, who breathe to fake their normalness and blend in. They have no need for oxygen. Your lips look so soft. Your chest rising and falling gently, you look totally at peace, and Satoru is mesmerized. He gets lost in the rhythm of your breaths for a moment— the steady beat of your heart bringing about a peace and longing ache in his own lifeless one. He snaps out of his daze, and rings the bell again, huffing impatiently. Another ten seconds go by, and he starts to spam the bell. 

“Where are they?” He grumbles. Satoru slips behind the desk, frowning and pissy, looking into the back room. Nobody is there. 

“Seriously?” 

He can’t just leave you here when the door is unlocked and the place is unattended. Satoru curses under his breath again, looking down at your sleeping face, your body curled against his frame in his arms. 

“Guess Suguru has to confront his demons tonight,” Satoru sighs, not realizing the weight of the statement he’s just uttered.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Sweet, mouth-watering, the scent of a dream— it wafts through the hallway, into his room, and Suguru wakes up with a growling stomach. 

Human blood. One that smells absolutely ravishing. Suguru sits up, alert and awake, wondering if Satoru brought back somebody to share, somebody who wanted to be fed on and possibly fucked by the two of them. The raven-haired man stands up and tears open his door—

Satoru is hunched over a body on the couch. Suguru makes his way over, his fangs protruding, his amethyst eyes glinting with hunger—

Satoru finishes wiping the blood off your arm, the sight of the red cloth in his hand making Suguru freeze when he realizes Satoru brought back a hurt person.

“Satoru–” 

Satoru turns, standing up, and Suguru finally catches a glimpse of who is on their couch. If his heart was beating, it would have skipped a beat. 

Suguru’s eyes are wide, his mouth agape. You?

“Hey,” the snowy-haired vampire says. “Before you get pissed—!”

Suguru is crossing the living room in a flash, shoving Satoru up against the wall. Suguru’s head is ringing, swirling with hunger, anger, fear, grief, and shame. Something as seemingly small as the sight of you did that to him. 

“Did you fucking hurt her? I swear to god, if you so much as touched a hair on her head—” Suguru hisses before Satoru shoves his best friend back, scowling.

“Listen for a second! She was in a ditch when I found her, okay? By the construction site. I may not like this little pest of a weakling, but I didn’t hurt her,” Satoru retorts. Suguru backs off, clenching his fists so hard that it draws red blood of his own. His eyes burn holes into the floorboards. 

Satoru watches, a beat of silence passing before he speaks up, “Hey, Suguru. Just… just take a moment to get a hold of yourself. If you have to take a walk…”

What Satoru didn’t understand was how absolutely feral Suguru was for you, down to a chemical level. Bringing you around was enough to make Suguru’s head pound with a dizzying need to feast on you— but bringing you when you were bleeding? Suguru is feeling white hot need pulse throughout his body.

“She— she’s not supposed to be here—” Suguru manages to say, his voice strained. 

“Why–”

“She can’t be by me!” Suguru roars, looking up from the ground to meet Satoru’s shocked gaze. Suguru’s purple eyes are filled with a storm of anger and pain, and Satoru opens his mouth to apologize—

But Suguru is gone in a blink, the door to their apartment creaking as yellow light from the hallway spills in, falling on your face, painting you in a soft glow. 

Feedback of Your Thoughts, Comments, and Reblogs, are highly appreciated and honestly do help me write faster :)

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[corroded-hellfire]

Older Eddie freaking out when she tells him she’s pregnant. He gets worried he won’t be able to be there for them in ways he wants to and tries to run. But he sees the ultrasound picture and breaks down and goes back to his girl

Confused older!eddie, you still that dumb boy we all love

Words: 1k

I’m pregnant.

The words run through Eddie’s head again and again as he lies next to your sleeping form. The sound of your soft, slow breathing is the only noise in the trailer, but Eddie can hardly hear it over the beat of his pulse pounding in his ears. 

He’s glad you’re able to sleep because God knows he’s the farthest thing from sleepy. Pregnant. Eddie’s starting to think he can see the word scrawled across the shadowy ceiling he’s been staring at for the past three hours. 

You’ll be 52 when the kid is born, Munson, Eddie thinks to himself. Which means you’ll be 70 when he or she graduates high school. Well, at least 70 if the kid follows in my footsteps when it comes to education. Heaving a quiet sigh, Eddie tilts his head to the side to look at you. He watches the easy rise and fall of your shoulders with each gentle breath. 

There’s a sudden sense of panic climbing up Eddie’s chest and it feels like an iron hand clamps around his throat. You deserve so much more than this, he thinks. You deserve to have someone your own age, who can be there for you longer than I’ll be able to. 

Unable to bear the thought of you having to take care of your child and an aging Eddie, he pushes himself out of the bed and stalks out of the bedroom. 

2:02 am the neon green numbers on the microwave remind Eddie as he steps into the kitchen. He runs his hands through his salt and pepper curls and begins to pace back and forth in the small space. The two of you had never talked about having kids. Obviously, what was between you was serious and you were both in it for the long haul. Maybe one of you should’ve brought up the subject but it was too damn late now, Eddie mused. 

“Jesus,” Eddie says as he rests his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and hangs his head. “People are going to think I’m her dad and the baby’s fucking grandpa.”

The tightness in his chest returns tenfold as he imagines you calmly explaining to people their mistake, like you don’t mind it one bit. But Eddie knows it would bother you after a while and it would ignite embarrassment in him every single time. The same thoughts would spiral around his head that hadn’t been present since the two of you first started going out: she can do better; you’re too old for her; it’s selfish when you’re going to die at least twenty years before her. 

The shame is too much. Eddie’s nails dig into the wood of the chair as his jaw tightens. Before he can think better of it, he heads towards the front door, where his boots are settled next to. He shoves them on and doesn’t bother to tighten or tie the laces. The keys to his truck hang on the hook next to his leather jacket, but the sight of the jacket only reminds him that he isn’t wearing a shirt. 

“Fuck.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he walks back into the bedroom to grab a shirt, he knows he’ll see you, sleeping there like the beautiful angel you are, and fall into your arms. But leaving is what’s best for you…isn’t it? “Get it together, Munson.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as much as he can, Eddie remembers seeing a sweatshirt hanging on the chair next to the one he was leaning on in the kitchen. It’s an effort to walk across the floorboards of the trailer in such heavy boots without causing a piercing squeak, so Eddie practically tiptoes his way. Calloused fingers snag on the worn gray cotton of the sweatshirt and snatch it up. In his haste, the sleeve of material knocks a few pieces of mail onto the floor.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He bends down on creaky knees to pick up the envelopes that bear both your and his names. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a thinner piece of paper that had gotten mixed in with the mail. 

A slightly trembling hand raises the grainy black-and-white picture to eye level. Even if the lightning weren’t so scarce, the moonlight shining through the window over the sink its only source, Eddie would need to squint to see the image clearly. The small fuzzy bean in the middle of the sonogram has Eddie falling back onto his ass, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his child. His baby. Your baby. 

Fat tears begin to roll down Eddie’s cheeks and he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth. How could he be so stupid? How could he even consider leaving? Leaving you? Leaving this innocent baby? No, he knows with complete certainty that would be the biggest mistake he’d ever make. So worried about the amount of time that he’d have with you that he was about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him. And who’s to say someone younger would have more time with you? The next day isn’t promised for anyone, no matter the age.

Eddie puts the sonogram back on the table and is quick to scramble out of his boots, kicking them beneath the chairs to be dealt with in the morning. Both his leather jacket and sweatshirt get tossed on the couch in his haste out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and back down to your shared room. 

When he enters, you’re sleeping on your other side now, so he’s able to see your face. Letting his eyes roam over your beauty, more tears begin to fall. He roughly wipes off his cheeks with his rough palms before climbing into bed with you. Though you look so peaceful asleep and tucked in the blankets, Eddie can’t help but slide in as close to you as possible and wrap you up in his arms. A small, sleepy murmur tumbles from your lips as you snuggle up to your boyfriend.

“Everythin’ ‘kay, Eds?” you mumble as you lift your head and rest it on his bare chest.

Eddie nods as he holds you even tighter against his body. 

“Mhmm, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a smile breaking through at the way you cling to him. “Everything’s great.”

[sweetlikeyou]

is it casual now?

sum. you knew it was casual and you knew you were just a replacement for him to use but as he kissed you once more with as much sweetness and reverence in each caress as honey and made your body hum with pleasure beneath him, you thought maybe being a replacement isn't as bad if you get to hold him in your arms for just a little longer.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

warnings: ANGST, unrequited love, implied sexual themes, implied gojohime

song to listen to while reading: casual [slowed & reverb] [rain]

w/c: 940 words

read it on ao3

you opened your instagram just to see your face reflected on your 'for you' page with gojo satoru, japan's most beloved actor. he was standing next to you, out of all people on a red carpet – for his latest movie premiere – with his arm slung around your shoulder and a carefree smile on his face, he was radiant in the picture almost blinding the onlooker with his dazzling smile and perfect face and crystal eyes. while standing next to him you looked like a black hole stealing all his sunshine, sucking it up into your dark void and making his light dim. you squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again and opened the comments in one of the posts before you could stop yourself.

gojoplsbemybabysdaddy: such a slut!

gojosgf: god, doesn't she see he's just using her?

gojosblues: that whore!

gojoismyhubby: please as if gojo could ever love someone like her! i mean just look at her!

infiniterizzlergojo: their whole 'relationship' is so fake, god, it makes me sick!

this was fine. these comments were fine. you were used to them. but still it hurt to see them. seeing how you weren't good enough for him stated so plainly and simply.

but the one that hurt the most was:

gojohimeforevaa: she's a homewrecker, that's what she is! gojo and utahime are meant to be! but this bitch came between them smh.

you squeezed your eyes blinking back tears. the other ones hurt but they hurt in the way it would hurt when someone said something particularly mean about you and you knew it wasn't true, not exactly, but still you took it to heart. but this–this comment was an arrow pierced directly through your heart, putting to words exactly what you've been feeling.

after all, you knew you were just a replacement for someone gojo truly wanted yet, yet you still couldn't bring it on yourself to end things with him like you probably should. you were selfish like that.

even your own friends called you a loser behind your back – thinking you wouldn't know – 'cause despite knowing the truth behind your supposed 'relationship' you still hung around. you've heard your fair share of rumors too, of how you're just some a girl he bangs on his couch and leaves behind to fend for herself but you're immune to them–or at least that's what you tell yourself.

but still you remembered the first time gojo kissed you, he held your face in his hands so gently, so reverently and brought your lips to his oh-so-tenderly that one might think he was just in love with you, and you thought so too, or at least hoped so. and when he kissed you slow and languid like honey dripping down marble butterflies erupted in your chest but when you two had finally broken off your kiss he had leaned his forehead against yours and whispered so softly, "we're not together," as if the words he said wouldn't break your heart into too many pieces too count and make you have anger issues every other time you two kissed in the future.

you remembered how he had said against your lips "baby, no attachment, 'k?" while fucking you deep and slow for the first time and your stupid emotions had gotten a hold of you and a few stray tears had slipped past your eyes but gojo thinking they were tears of pleasure had fucked you harder, making you break into a million tiny little pieces as you came apart under him with equal parts pleasure and pain.

but still maybe it's dumb love after all, or perhaps you love being stupid because you still dream of gojo and you in the future and how maybe you would have an apartment and he would show you off to all his friends at the pier.

you know there was 'no attachment' between you two but how could you believe that? when he was just knee deep in the passenger seat of his car and was eating you out like he was drowning and you were his only salvation? when he was whispering sweet nothings against your lips and exchanging even sweeter kisses with you when you could taste yourself on his tongue? how could you believe that you were just 'casual' when just only two weeks since being introduced to his mom she invited you to her house at long beach?

it's so damn hard being 'casual' when your favorite bra still lived in the top drawer of his dresser in his apartment. and it's hard being 'casual' when you're on the phone talking down to his cousin. how could you be casual when threads of you and him were intertwined so deeply into each other's lives?

but it wasn't as if you didn't try. you did try–try to be the 'chill' girl. tried to give gojo the space and tried your fucking hardest but in all honesty you couldn't. you just couldn't be 'casual' when it came to gojo satoru.

you remembered the way he had fucked you in the bathroom yesterday while his parents were at the table, with her, the woman he truly loved. and at that moment you knew, you knew it was casual and you knew you were just a replacement for him to use but as he kissed you once more with as much sweetness and reverence in each caress as honey and made your body hum with pleasure beneath him, you thought maybe being a replacement isn't as bad if you get to hold him in your arms for just a little longer.

[depresssant]

The Villainess and The Madmen

It was just a dumb otome game that hooked you like a moth to a flame, and when you had completed the game, it was only natural for you to buy the sequel. So why... why are you now in the body of the villainess with people that suddenly don't want you dead? No. They want something much worse from you. And you don't think you'll be able to make it out of this hell.

Trigger Warnings: yandere, gore, death, murder, past child abuse, heavy childhood trauma, kidnapping, implied sa, and men. Please note that none of this warnings should be romanticized. They are simply for psychological horror. If you or someone you know experiences any symptoms similar to the men in this short story, run and seek help from a hotline or some designated organization.

Chapter One, Chapter Two (TBD), Chapter Three (TBD), Chapter Four (TBD)

Who would’ve thought you’d land yourself in a jail cell?

The cold nips at you angrily, and the silence surrounding you just washes reality over you like a wave. Arrested… bound to be executed, no? That’s the destined fate for the villainess of this otome story⏤so evil and cunning to the point where she poisons the female lead just for her own selfish evils.

It just so happens to be that you’ve reincarnated into the villainess’s body.

Really, you didn’t know what you were getting into when you downloaded the otome game, “Cursed Hearts,” after constant nagging from your friend. It seemed like the typical generic reverse harem game with a helpless female lead and cold and mysterious male leads, but as you played the game, you had fallen more and more into the trap of the game.

So is it really a surprise that you bought the sequel to the game⏤the one that explored a separate storyline with the pathetic villainess as the main lead?

Damn it.

Whatever god above truly does hate you.

You sit back down on the bed you had found yourself sleeping upon, and the reality of it washes over you again. If you’re correct, you’re now the villainess, Calypso [L/n], of this story and… about to get executed. The villainess’s execution occurred somewhere towards the end of the story after she tried to poison the female lead, but her motives were never revealed. Calypso was always like a faceless shadow, mysterious and like that of an illusion despite playing such a large role in the story, and that was what the sequel was supposed to be for. To explain and dot down Calypso like the game had with other characters.

Perhaps you being the only one who purchased the game back then should’ve been a red flag in itself.

Now what do you do? What is there to do? Why even get reincarnated if your next stop is to die immediately?

There’s no way for you to defend yourself since before getting detained by the imperial soldiers in the palace, the villainess, or you now, had explained to everybody attending the empress’s annual spring tea party in detail how she poisoned the female lead’s lead’s tea after the female lead had collapsed and was sent off to a doctor to be treated. So there’s no way of getting out of this. You already look like a lunatic enough as it is⏤

“Lady Calypso [L/n]!”

Huh?

The soldier that stands before the doors to your cell clears his throat, face devoid of any emotion. “You have a visitor.”

Visitor? Who in their right mind would visit you? You’re about to sneer and tell the man you don’t want to talk to anybody, but the figure that approaches the cell door silences you in your tracks. It’s Lilith [L/n], the female lead of this otome story. Even while covered with a cloak, her beauty still manages to shine through everything. She gestures for the soldier to leave before turning her attention to you.

…

“You drank the poison as well.”

“Well, good morning⏤or afternoon or night to you as well, my dear. I’m surprised the cure worked this quickly.”

“Quite joking! You mixed the poison into the kettle we both poured tea from. And you drank it. Why? What are you planning?”

Drinking poison? Calypso drank the poison as well? When you played the game in Lilith's perspective, it didn’t show calypso in the scene as Lilith was too occupied with her tea and thoughts. But drinking poison? Why?

Standing up, you approach the iron bars and wrap your hands around them, deciding to play into the cocky and apathetic villain Calypso is portrayed to be for information. You need to figure out why the hell you’re in this woman’s body. “Goodness, I can't believe you're up and running so quickly after such a potent poison. My cure really did work. How did you notice that, anyways?”

Lilith’s eyes narrow, but it’s not an accusatory glare, no, it’s one of frustration. “Calypso, your husband is tearing himself down to the bone trying to prove your innocence! I spoke to Daemon, and he said he’s willing to let go of the charges, so please stop your stubbornness!”

Drop the charges? Wait, this isn’t a part of the original story. So why…? Oh. This must be a part of the villainess’s route.

If you can recall correctly, there are six main characters to the story. The crown prince, the villain, the grand duke, the esteemed knight, the female lead, and the villainess. In the original otome, the villainess had three different endings to be killed. By the lovesick prince, her lovesick husband who happened to be in love with the female lead, and the lovesick villain.

This otome game isn’t just a typical love story, after all. It’s dark, evil, and the female lead suffers a fate far worse than the villainess’s in every ending.

You hold back a chuckle. “How would you drop my charges? Do the people even know you’ve recovered?”

“... Well… No, but that’s not the point! Calypso, please, just come back home!”

And Lilith never begged Calypso like this in the original game. She was still recovering from the poison back then. It leads you to a question of why. Why are you here? But you’ve got a feeling you know why, and you don’t like it.

It makes nausea and fear pit in your stomach because when you look up, you’re met with a status screen.

And it says:

𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 - 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙥𝙨𝙤 [𝙇/𝙣]'𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙚. 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙.

a/n : going back to my roots with this one guys. to my loyal babes, yall r gonna have to hold on a little longer for that part ll batfam fic I PROMISE IT'LL BE HERE SOON 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, it wasn't me. anyways, here goes my shitty attempt at being aesthetic. uhhh, i'll also be making a taglist for this one, and reblogs r much appreciated. other than that, have a good day/night 💋💋💋

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

The Bet

Part one

Eddie is desperate to talk to you but will you ever be able to forgive and forget after learning your friendship was nothing more than a bet? Especially as you had fallen in love with him.

Do you still love him after all that anguish?

Part two.

Warnings: A lot of angst and you'll see..minors shoo! 18+

Don't copy, translate or repost my work.

❤️

A bet. That's all you'd ever been to Eddie, a bet to get one over on your now ex boyfriend, on Jason and the rest of the dark side as Eddie's friend had put it.

Had they spent this whole time laughing at you? Did Eddie get some kick out of stringing you along, stealing your heart piece by piece.

Was everything just a lie?

You had broken up with Bryan a week ago. Sick of his horrible nature and drawn to Eddie, head over heels for him. God you felt like such a fool.

The night you found out about the bet you cried yourself to sleep, walking to school on autopilot. Thank goodness for your friends because you struggled to get through the first day.

Mostly everyone was sympathetic but there was some people who sniggered when you walked past, whispered to their friends only it was so loud that you could hear.

I can't believe how gullible that idiot was

Imagine knowing the freak only got close to you for a bet

Serves that bitch and all the rest of Jason's idiots and the cheerleaders right for thinking they are so hot.

About time someone took them down a peg

Each thinly veiled barb cracked your already bleeding heart and you hurried to get away from the gossip.

It trickled out a couple days later, once the people had finished finding your pain hilarious, how anyone could find someone in pain to be funny was a mystery to you.

Whenever you saw Eddie you rushed away before he could speak to you, wouldn't look at his face because all you knew from him was lies.

Everything was a lie. He didn't love you, he never did. Your heart throbs with that realisation and you do your best to walk around school, head held up high and the heartbreak tucked up inside.

It was all an act but you were a great actor, you had to be to pretend like you weren't in agony on the inside.

...

It was the worst few weeks that Eddie could remember in a long long time, Dustin was disgusted with him and took a long time to talk to him.

His heart felt like it had been ripped in half and it was all his own fault, you wouldn't even look at him.

If he even attempted to try and speak to you it was to no avail.

The longest sentence you uttered was when he begged you to talk to him, even just one word.

All you said was ''goodbye Eddie" or that ''you didn't believe a word he said"

Steve picked you up from school with Robin every day, wouldn't even let Eddie go near you. Threatened to beat the shit out of him if he made you cry again.

He tried to speak to you again a few days later when Steve had eased up on guarding you, it was agonising weeks of you avoiding him.

You were coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy and another girl, Chrissy glared at him and the other girl looked like she wanted to kill him.

"Can we talk please, princess?'' he pleads and you ask your friends to give you a second and they do, very reluctantly still scowling at Eddie. He deserves that.

"I can't Eddie. I don't have anything to say to you" he swallows, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to think of what he can say to express how sorry he is.

''I messed up. I made a stupid mistake. The worst mistake, because I hurt you. I made a dumb bet to try and get back at assholes who bullied and made my friends and my life hell, it was mean and selfish and I wish I'd never done it" you listen to what he has to say and his heart aches when tears pool in your eyes.

"But you did do it, you couldn't even tell me the truth. You lied to me Eddie and all the time I was...I fell in love with you" he moves forward to cup your cheek, desperate for you to know that he loves you too.

"I love you, I fell in love with you and that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't lose you" you stare at him and don't speak for a few seconds, when you do the words split his heart in two.

"That's the thing, you lost me anyway" you walk away from him and he can't think of a single thing to say to stop you. Then he steels himself and runs to catch up with you.

"What Eddie?" you snap and he talks quickly, tripping over his words and anxious to get the words out.

"I hurt you badly, I fucked up and what I did was just fucking awful. I know that. I also know that I'm so in love with you, never thought I could feel this way for anyone but you snuck into my heart and it belongs only to you" you don't say anything but you don't rush away either, so Eddie says one more thing before you do decide to leave.

"I'll wait for you sweetheart, for however long it takes. I don't care how long I have to wait, you're worth every single second"

Tears pool in your eyes and you nod slightly. Ever so gently you squeeze his hand just a tiny bit then walk away, leaving Eddie determined as hell to win your trust again and maybe somewhere along the line your heart too.

💕

It took a while for you to even speak to Eddie for longer than five minutes, but he was nothing if not determined and patient, he's was not screwing this chance up.

At first, you didn't think Eddie was serious about waiting for you, but he was. Endlessly patient and sweet. Big brown eyes full of tenderness and joy when you spoke to him.

It was hard not to find him endearing, but he had hurt you badly and there was still a small part of you that held back, that was hesitant to get close, trying to protect your fragile heart that ached for you to give Eddie a chance.

It's Friday now and after an intense week of cheer practice, you can't wait to relax for the weekend.

Chrissy had been watching you looking at Eddie with longing, the exact same way Eddie looked at you for weeks now. To be honest it was beyond frustrating, the both of you loved one another, it was killing you both to be apart.

So that's why she was saying something to you today. More than anything she wanted you to be happy, if Eddie hurt you again just even a tiny bit then she would kick his ass.

That's before Steve go there first.

"Honey, what Eddie did was wrong and I'm mad as hell at him but anyone can see how sorry he is. He's so in love with you, maybe you could give him a second chance" Chrissy says to you as you sit down for lunch.

You rest your head on Chrissy's shoulder and let out a sigh. ''I want to, I want to so badly but I don't want to be heartbroken again''

Something tells Chrissy that Eddie wouldn't dare. That he would keep his promise to never hurt you so badly again.

She squeezes your hand reassuringly and it calms your anxiety down.

"Babe, he wouldn't dare. He's not stupid. Plus everyone might think I'm a sweetheart but I'll kick his ass if he did and Steve would too. Eddie won't lose you, not again"

The words play on your mind all day and when Eddie is hurrying to his truck at the end of Hellfire Club you pluck up your courage and go to speak to him.

"Eddie" the minute he sees you it's like his whole face lights up. A dimpled smile and brown eyes full of adoration greet you.

"Hey, sweetheart" longing fills the air, stifling you both and honestly you're pretty sick of it. So you take a leap, walk up to Eddie and take his hand.

"Would you mind if I asked you for a ride Eds?'' his hand tightens around yours and he grins, rushes to open the door to his truck and almost trips over his feet in the process. It's cute and you can't help but giggle.

He holds the door open for you. "Princess, your carriage awaits" you head inside.

The drive is short and sweet, Eddie once again being a gentleman as he opens the door for you to step out.

You thank him for the ride and before Eddie can head back into the truck, you kiss his cheek gently, then leave a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.

The kiss leaves him looking dazed, he touches his cheek then his lips and there's that smile again, the one that melted your heart the first time you seen it.

"One more chance Eddie, if you hurt me again thats it. I mean it" he nods, his face serious as he takes in what you say.

"I swear you won't regret this princess, I love you and I'll spend every day proving that, do you... do you still love me?" he whimpers after a few seconds, his expression wide with worry and fear.

"I've never stopped" you answer back.

After your confession he practically does a little dance as he goes into his truck. Just before you open the door to your house, you hear his whoop of delight before he drives off.

The smile doesn't leave your face all night.

❤️

[sweetcloverheart]

Clover Rants Miraculously: Unearned Defeat

Maybe it's the bitter Chloe Stan in me, but I genuinely do hate how her (And Lila's, frankly) "Downfall" in S5 was never actually about her bullying victims coming together as a community/group to finally stand up for themselves, but about the writers taking every opportunity possible to mock her (and her fans indirectly) because they were that desperate to get the audience onboard with her constant on-screen ridicule. Marinette wasn't allowed to actually stand up for herself against her, to get others to stand up for themselves, to get the class and their teachers to put their feet down in face of her cruelty and commands and finally say "No. I don't care if you're going to call your dad down to have me fired/expelled/exiled. I'm noting doing what you asked. I refuse to buckle under your threats anymore. The answer is no."

Instead, it's 27 episodes (and two specials) of "Isn't Chloe so stupid and dumb? Look at how stupid and dumb she is! She's too dumb to tell Felix and Adrien apart despite being their friend for years. She's too dumb to hide the fact that she hasn't been doing her own homework since Primary. She's too dumb to know Gabriel's tricking her into taking over Paris. She can't even spell 'Democracy' or scheme without Lila needing to hold her hand! What a moron, am I right?". Her friendship with Adrien gets ended over a randomly inserted event from a year ago rather than her steadily growing toxicity that's clearly changed her from the girl he befriended years before, just so Chloe can rant and rave about how evil (and stupid) she is, too much so to even apologize. Sabrina gets downgraded from friend/lackey to punchingbag/slave with nearly zero explanation on how the transition happened, before suddenly being inserted with morals during a scheme (when the upset's clearly more about her being upstaged by Lila) when she barely showed any remorse/reluctance before now and throwing Chloe under the bus to save herself under the excuse of "redeeming herself" to prove further that Chloe is too dumb and stupid to appreciate her friends. Her father, who constantly indulged her whims and turned the whole city upsidedown in her name even when unasked, calls her "Selfish and heartless" to a close friend, and barely reflects on how he might of had a hand in how that came to be, before tossing her to her neglectful mother as a "they deserve each other" punishment for her stupidity and evil. An entirely new character is introduced specifically to talk about how evil and stupid Chloe is and blaming her for her expulsion before getting casually tossed aside. An evil version of Marinette's existence is all but directly blamed on Chloe's bullying rather than the post-apocalyptic villainous dictatorship she lives under that forbids helping people, and even then, nothing comes of the mention as it just exist to remind the audience that Chloe is evil and stupid - even in alternate universes. We dedicated a section of the London special on how Chloe's too evil and stupid to change just to have it there (instead of actual being in London so the episode name would make some sense). Her defeat doesn't come from a clever plan, or the power of cooperation, or even love in the face of difficulty - instead, it comes from spyware and the heroes deciding "Nuhuh" as their transformation timers run out and the narrative shrugging before giving them a freebie by claiming they've "Grown up" without explaining how.

Even when Marinette is finally given the chance to shut Chloe down, it just...rings hollow, because it more about making Chloe look foolish and letting us laugh at her tears than making Marinette seem strong for finally standing up to the girl who's apparently tormented her since they were in diapers and yet somehow she's been beating the blonde down for the past 2-4 seasons with minimum effort. And even, it feels unearned because not only has Marinette not been allowed to build up to her defeat of Chloe to this point, she isn't the one who took her down anyways - convenience did the job for her and she just showed up at the right time to reap the benefits.

Marinette and all the people Chloe hurt should have been given this chance to grow and finally get back their agency from her, to finally defeat Chloe on their own - but instead, they're made passive players and props to the writers personal hit pieces against the loud fan minority on twitter, because a group of adults decided their personal hateboner against the fictional child antagonist they created was far more important than the story they were supposed to tell

[weirdsht]

(Un)Attainable - Alberu/Fem! Reader

notes: the og prompt for this was suppose to be super angsty, but I'm not so mean that I would make you guys cry the second I have the time to write. Also I notice a lot of people are using "Alver" now but I just can't, I'm so sorry huhu

tags: female reader, vague novel spoilers, forbidden love(?), lovesick Alberu if you squint

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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Alberu’s first priority will always be the Roan Kingdom and its citizens. He will always put the welfare of his people before his own wants. Alberu is the type of crown prince who is willing to play as the villain just to see his citizens prosper. Even when no one will be able to appreciate his sacrifices. All for the sake of his selfish desire to see his people thrive.

That’s the simple fact the people around Alberu know.

They know that he has no time for love. No time to indulge in such things when he has a kingdom to run. Alberu Crossman has said so himself several times in the past.

But oh, what is this feeling blooming in the crown prince’s heart? Could they be feelings of romantic affection?

Could the prideful prince be eating his own words of not taking in a spouse in the future?

Maybe, or perhaps not.

He does know one thing though…

It’s the fact that he's charting into dangerous territory.

Not only was he dumb enough to fall in love. That wasn’t enough.

No no no

The quarter-dark elf was stupid enough to fall for the one person he couldn’t get.

Adin’s fiance, the soon-to-be crown princess of the Mogoru Empire. The empire of the Sun God Church. The one place where his chances of his dark elf bloodline being discovered is higher.

But can anyone blame him and his beating heart? How could he not fall when she’s so sweet, so ethereal?

So undeserving of that bastard Adin.

She was so good. So kind, so strong, so smart, so compassionate.

And Adin was… a scumbag, for a lack of a better word. Someone undeserving love.

Despite that, Adin was still her fiance. Adin and not Alberu.

“I’ve known him since we were kids. Our engagement had been decided from the moment the emperor found out I was a girl. They said I was the perfect wife for him. That I can strengthen the royal bloodline.”

She had confided one night. Her dignified yet soft voice had a tinge of longing in it. As if longing for the life she could’ve had outside of being Adin’s bethroed. 

“Your Highness [Name] has your time with Prince Adin made you grow some affection for him?”

Alberu hopes that the answer is no. That despite the headstart Adin had, [Name] hadn’t fallen for his charms.

That instead she’d fall for Alberu’s charms.

He’s the better choice. He could give her so much more than Adin could ever. Alberu will make sure that she will have the chance to showcase her talent to the world. He will make sure to treat her like the princess she is. This crown prince won’t treat her as if she’s a mere trophy whose sole job is to be bragged around.

[Name] was so much better than that.

She has wits that can help run a kingdom. She has the compassion for her citizens. The heart that screams and begs to aid her people. She has a strong persona that has so much more use than just being shown around to nobles.

Alberu Crossman can see that she’s worth more than Adin displayed her to be— no, in fact in Alberu’s eyes she’s worthless. No system of measurement can gauge her worth.

“No amount of time spent with Adin can make me grow affection for the man. Whether it’s platonic or romantic.”

The quarter-dark elf almost let his shoulders sag. He was so relieved that he nearly conveyed his true feelings. 

He has a chance– Alberu Crossman actually has a chance..!

Alberu was so happy that he nearly didn’t catch [Name]’s next words.

“That man is so awful, hence why no amount of time with him can make me tolerate him. But I’m sure you already know of such things. As a matter of fact, my trusted handmaiden is on her way to make negotiations with your dear commander.”

Roan Kingdom’s rising sun had to double-take, unsure if the words he was hearing were correct.

“I’m not as dumb as the world thinks of me.”

Alberu must have had a stupefied look on his face for the lovely lady in front of him to make such a comment.

“No, no my lady, that’s not what I meant. I am well aware of your wits and capabilities. It’s just that my commander and I had been ready to do everything in our power to turn you over to our side.”

To turn you over so that you’ll be in my arms instead– of course, Alberu said no such thing. Only letting such degenerative thoughts run through his mind.

“My lady is highly intelligent, highly perceptive. You are also close to Adin, you are a core player in taking such a man off his high horse.”

[Name] had an incredulous look on her face. Like Alberu was flattering her too much. However, he wasn’t. The poor prince had only been telling the truth.

“I didn’t think that the future king of the Roan Kingdom was one to… get brownie points.”

“You wound me, my fair lady. I was merely stating the truth. Nonetheless, since we’re on the topic… do you mind people who try to get brownie points?”

Alberu isn’t sure where he got the guts to be so coy. But he was glad he did because [Name]’s expression was better than he’d hoped for.

“Hmm well, I guess I don’t mind. If it’s from a silver-haired prince maybe I wouldn’t entertain it. Luckily, blonde seems to be my type… or was it brown?”

[Name] had a knowing look on her face and oh god can Alberu fall any deeper. He should be scared, should be nervous that another person seems to know his secret. But no, instead, he feels himself falling deeper in love.

“Don’t worry your highness your secret is safe with me. I wouldn’t do my potential lover dirty like that.”

Yeah… safe to say that Alberu’s in too deep now.

[dufferpuffer]

honestly I don't even blame the intense Marauders fans for making the boys barely seem like friends.

How many lines are there (that wasn't said to each other) where teenage Sirius and James were not being absolute pricks...? They're such insensitive assholes. In their heads it really was James & Sirius and then everyone else in the world. Remus and Peter are included but constantly disrespected.

And like of course they were friends, and had each others backs - but there's a power dynamic in that friend group, and its James and Sirius are kings and Remus and Peter are useful for entertainment. Toxic lil teenagers. Dumb asshole kids.

But that's exactly the point, right? Every time we see a memory of the past, its to show the opposite of what Harry thinks: - James and Sirius were actually quite nasty - Remus wasn't a role model, - Peter was a bit of a victim, - Severus is honest - and straight up correct most of the time

I think the unfortunate thing in fanworks on this era is how they treat this dynamic as golden. As fine. They were the bestest and tightest of friends, the toxic shit was all stable and normal and good... and the only way to have that make sense is to twist who the characters are.

- James has to be a labrador who barely knows what he is saying. - Sirius has to be a drama queen to say insensitive things. - Remus has to be a grumpy badass to be so quietly defensive. - Peter... well they just ignore Peter. When he is there they have the others love-bomb him to make up for the abuse. - Severus has to be the worst otherwise the marauders look bad. But its more interesting that it wasn't like that! That the group fell apart! Remus separated after school, there was a rift between him and Sirius - Peter was such a fourth wheel he wasn't loyal at all - Sirius was almost TOO loyal and reliant on James, too dedicated - and while James loved Lily he was still irresponsible and selfish.

IDK its 4am and I'm rambling. I guess seeing so much stuff of pallid, pale, sickly Remus as a butch tanned teen scowling at people... it gets to you at 4am. I think, if you wanted a more assertive Remus to have hot sex with Sirius (if teenage sex can ever be hot...?) leaning into their characters would be cooler. That's my 2 cents.

“I’m bored,” said Sirius. “Wish it was full moon.” “You might,” said Lupin darkly from behind his book.

There's fire in that. There's dissatisfaction and annoyance and bite - alongside Remus' general meekness. There's disregard from Sirius. Idk. Feels like that's a cool angle to work with.

[bonbonchocolates]

Clown

Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Summary: When the past comes back.....

Warnings: yandere jungkook, stalking, mentions of death (of minor characters), obsessive behaviour

A/N: Again originally from my Wattpad account. I hope you like it and if you did please leave a like.

Masterlist

___________________________________________

"Kookie"

A nine year old ran towards her best friend and engulfed him into a hug. Her friend hugged her back with a smile on her face.

"Doll, I wanted to tell you something."

These words of the boy grabbed the girls attention. She looked up towards her friend with eyes filled with curiosity. The boy was almost a feet taller than her since he was older than her.

"I like you very much doll. I thought rich people were arrogant and selfish but it all changed when I met you. Doll, will stay with me forever? Will you be my wife in the future?"

The girl didn't take a single word of the boy seriously. She was too small and dumb to understand what he meant.

"Kook-"

Before the girl could speak further her mother grabbed her and pulled her away from the boy. She then slapped the boy which made the boy's face turn to the side.

"How dare you touch my daughter? You low class peasant, stay at your limits. Don't forget that your father is a clown in a circus and your mother is a maid at our house. How can you even think that my daughter will ever marry you?"

The little girl stared at her mother, confusion was written all over her face. She than turn towards her friend and found that his eyes were filled with tears. She felt a pang in her heart. She tried to escape her mother's hold and run towards her friend and hug him but her mother tightened her hold on her arm.

"I'll fire your mother from her work and you, don't ever show your face to my daughter ever again."

With that she dragged her daughter with her. The boy just stared at both of them. Unknowingly a drop of tear escaped his eyes. He felt humiliated and didn't want to stay there any longer. So he ran away from there and promised to never return back ever again.

____________________________________________

"Mom please don't leave me."

A thirteen year old boy cried holding his death mother's hand with his. His mother committed suicide because she was humiliated and fired from her job. The boy tried to call his father but he didn't pick up the call.

This evening after he came back home he found his mother dead, lying in her own pool of blood. A blade lay beside her dead body. His heart broke when he saw his mother in such a condition. He refused to believe his mother is no longer with him and kept calling his mother in hope that she might listen to him and wake up.

He even tried calling his dad but he didn't pick up the call. He knew the reason why his mother committed suicide. His mother was the only earner in their house. His father spent all his money on alcohol. After his mother lost her job now no one was there to earn and she couldn't handle the shock and took such a big step.

After a few minutes of crying he finally stopped. Now his eyes were filled with the desire of revenge instead of tears. He decided that he will take his revenge from the ones who are responsible for his mother's death. He then started to laugh like a crazy person.

____________________________________________

8 years later:

"Y/Niee did you hear about the murder in the circus?"

Your friend asked you and you nodded your head. How could you not know about it? Right now it was the hot topic of your town. You lived in a small town and it was quite peaceful here until day before yesterday. A clown was murdered brutally in the circus. Even his face could not be identified.

"Yes I know"

"We need to be careful Y/Niee, what if the killer comes after us next?"

"Why will the killer even come after us?"

You asked, at your friend's silly question. Why will the killer come after you? He is not a serial killer right? Maybe he had an enemity with the clown. You never harmed a single insect in your life so why will a killer be after you?

"I know but we never know."

You just shrugged off her words and continued eating.

____________________________________________

Later that evening you were coming back home after your outing with your friends. The street was empty and there were only few cars in the road. You were walking when a orange coloured balloon came towards you and hit you on your face.

You were about to let it go when you noticed something was written in the balloon. You grabbed the string and found that there was a 'Miss Me?' written in the balloon with red ink. You just ignored it and let the balloon go.

You usually took the alley to reach your home because it was a shortcut but today you decided to go from the main road. You looked at the dark alley and it gave you goosebumps so you thought it was better to take the long way today.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

I was secretly keeping my eyes on my doll to make sure nothing happens to her. Though I hate her parents but I cannot hate her because I love her too much. Last time when I saw her she was only nine years old and look at her now all grown woman.

I blew the balloon I was holding towards her. My heart jumped a bit when she grabbed the balloon and read what I had specially written for her. My heart dropped when she ignored and continued walking towards her home.

Suddenly my eyes fell on someone behind her, it was a boy probably my age. At first it all looked normal but then I saw the but kept following her. Now I understood his motives. My doll had no idea about it. I clenched my fist in anger .

How did he look at my doll that way? No one is allowed to look at what's mine. Don't worry doll I will get rid of him.

____________________________________________

"Y/Niee did you he-"

"Yes I heard."

Another murder in your town and this time it was a college boy. He was murdered in the same way as the clown. So people assumed it was the same killer. The most shocking thing was that the boy's dead body was found in the same alley through which you would take a short cut to your house. Even the time of the murder was estimated to be in the same time when you were on your way home.

You thanked God that you did not take the alley or you might be in place of the boy right now. You decided to never take that alley ever again and never to head home late at night.

____________________________________________

Time Skip:

A month passed and now your peaceful town turned dreadful. Everyday there was a murder and still now the police were not able to catch hold of the killer. Though they were sure of the thing that all the murders were linked to each other. The police also suggested that a clown was the killer because a clown was spotted in the cctv cameras where the murders took place but still they were not able to catch him.

First the people who were murdered were totally unknown to you but recently a lot of people murdered were known to you. For example the bullys of your school who used to often bully you, the maid who steal your money and that creepy man who followed you a few months ago. Oh you forgot one the math teacher of your school who looked at you badly.

You were quite scared to get out of your house nowadays. Your parents were out on a business trip and you had to stay in the big mansion of yours all alone. You were totally freaked out.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

Finally I got rid of my doll's parents, they were the reason why I lost my mother. Now I got my revenge. I know if my doll gets to know about her parents death she will break down. But no worries she has me.

No one can come between me and my doll now. She is finally mine. Be ready doll I am coming for you.

____________________________________________

It was quite late night and your parents are still not home. You are getting worried for them. They promised to come back home by today morning but they were still not home yet.

You thought of all the possibilities of the killer- no you should think positive. Nothing will happen to your parents. You tried calling your parents once again but this time it was switched off. Before you tried calling them and they were not picking up the call and it was switched off.

Suddenly you saw a pink coloured balloon coming towards you. You grabbed it and saw it there was a 'Miss Me?' written with red ink on it just like the balloon you found that day. Just then another white coloured balloon came towards you.

This time 'Doll' was written in it. After that a bunch of balloon came towards you. Some had 'Miss Me?' and others had 'Doll' written on them. You were completely freaked out by now.

You couldn't understand from where all these balloons were coming from. You were sure you locked all the doors and windows of your mansion or maybe you forgot.

Doll- why does the nickname sound so familiar to you? It feels like someone used to call you with this nickname but who? Wait- Kookie

"Miss me, Doll?"

____________________________________________

[shadowofroses]

I'm still thinking on a Half Sibling Gojo...

Like Satoru's father slept with a Maid without thinking of the consequence. Maid gets pregnant, but there is no reason to think the child is his, could be anyone's. Right? Child looks like the mother there is no say. However Satoru is then born. Nothing to think anything of it, other than the Maid encouraging their kid to play with Satoru. When asked why, she tells the Father "Is it not right that they get to know their brother?" When they are approximately five, (I would say same age, just Months difference, or a Year at most for the Half sibling)

Shit hits the fan and the Maid and the kid is *encouraged* to move away the Gojo Clan refusing to give the Maid money for such foolish "lies". Because Gojo was projected to be the Pride and joy with Both techniques. He can't have distractions. If the maid or the kid says something, consequences from the Gojo Clan.

(Half-Sibling) AKA Reader has a Cursed Technique but no one can teach them how to control it, cause their mother wanted them to have NOTHING to do with the Jujutsu Society.

Satoru Remembering Reader in his early life. He knows the reason they are gone is because of his father. So once he is old enough to figure stuff out on his own he does his research. Isn't it funny that your mother tried to legally change your last name to Gojo out of Spite early on in your life when the two of you got to America. And thanks to his father's overreaching it got denied.

That is how he tracked you down, and found you cashiering, doing something mundane. And one would say that you can't recognize someone after a good 20 years. But he would recognize you anywhere.

Gojo wants to get to know you again, and wants to be your brother. Cause despite the time that has past You were still the most consistent family he had in his life. Which was pretty damn sad.

And he convinces you to come back to Japan, you have nothing actually tying you down to America. He could teach you how to properly handle your Cursed Technique. You don't need to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. He would take care of you. You question about his father and he only says one thing. 'If he's dumb enough to say anything in front of me I'll handle it.'

Safety wise however, it's safer to stay under your mother's last name. Safer to not say you were related. Who knows what kind of assassination or kidnappings would happen if they knew? Is Satoru being Selfish? Yes.

But out of ALL the people to figure it out. No one would have suspected Sukuna to connect the dots. Maybe even Geto(Before Kenjaku). But I didn't think that far into things yet. No idea of pairings as of yet.

[everythingseasoning]

Love, forever? (Updated Masterlist moved here)

vampire! suguru x reader x vampire! Satoru

vampire! Suguru x reader. includes: Morality, and selfishness vs selflessness themes. // Vampire! Suguru and Satoru, who are vampire hunters that protect humans from evil ones. // Blooming rivalry between Satoru & reader for Suguru’s attention. // AU characters. Satoru is clingier and more emotional than his canon self. Suguru despises the strong (vampires) for hurting the weak (humans). // New vampire lore ;). // Angst. Suguru battling his inner demons, trying to do good despite his vampire nature and urges. // Reader has multiple targets on her back (Naoya appearance!) // Both Suguru and Satoru fall for reader. // Eventual smut in later chapters. //

Ch. 01 Teaser // NOTE: if you saw the teaser already, I’ve edited it a lot and added in more juicy dialogue & scenes ;) feel free to read it again, I recommend that.

The drink is nothing short of young and dumb, the blend of tooth-rottingly sweet flavors hitting your taste buds as you stare holes into Suguru’s back. You can see the sculpture of his muscles and beautiful bones through his tight tee, your ex’s sculpted body turned away from you. He’s speaking to a girl you had heard about— the life of all parties, pretty, smart, and fun. Was he moving on already? Did you really mean so little to him? Would she be the one to make him stay? 

You take another swig from the plastic blue cup, hoping the painful twisting motion of your heart would be soon dulled. Coca Cola, sherbet, and yakult alcohol would be your poison of the night, you think, swallowing down the concoction as tears prick your eyes. 

“Another one of those people who drinks their troubles away?” 

The voice amidst the bass and booming music causes you to turn, your eyes meeting striking blue ones. Snowy hair rests soft and thick on his head, your heart skipping a beat when you see such a beautiful stranger. 

If you were being honest, you weren’t in the mood to talk to somebody else— not when your heart was still tied right onto Suguru’s. You love Suguru, you really do. The recent past haunts your every waking moment. And even in your dreams, he’s there, chuckling as you braid his hair, the nonfiction book he’s been reading facedown in his lap as your fingers thread his silky locks; He’s watching you with a fond smile as you run ahead of him in the campus garden, jumping amongst the flowers; The warmth and sturdiness of his hands against your face as the two of you kiss— his soft, supple lips meeting yours in that familiar dance and tangle. In your dreams he’s still yours. You both made up. In your dreams, things are warm and right. 

When you wake up in an empty bed, with an aching heart, it just feels cruel. The light slipped away again. You thought you had it. You had your dream come true only to realize it was just that— a fleeting dream. There’s no respite from the memory of all his adoration, thoughtful gestures, all the times you’d stare mesmerized as he sat focused, his eyebrows pinched as he worked… The way he felt when you were wrapped in his embrace, your face buried in his sturdy chest— that feeling of being cared for— 

You missed him bad, with every fiber of your being. 

Suguru is still all you can think about. You’re at this damned college party because, even a month after he’d broken up with you, all you wanted was to be close to him, to see him. It’s pathetic. Knowing he’d be here, knowing you’d be tearing your heart open again, the wound freshly cut back open— and you still came here. How many times had you stalked his social media despite having been removed from his following? 

“Cat got your tongue?” The beautiful stranger breaks you out of your thoughts, forcing a reply. 

“No—” you start to say, raising your voice. It’s just barely audible over the clamor of the party. 

“Really?” He butts in, raising an eyebrow. “‘Cause it seems like there’s some hard evidence against your statement.” His small smile is as unconventional as it is disarming. 

“And you are?” 

“Satoru Gojo, if you haven’t heard about me already. I go to a different university. A better one.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “And why would I know of you?” 

Satoru just tilts his head ever so slightly, his smile unwavering as he replies, “Your head is under a rock, is what I heard you say.”

Confusion flits across your face before your mouth falls open slightly, a feigned look of offense stretched on your features. You feel like ignoring this pesky person. You glance away for a second, in search of Suguru’s back— the spot he’d been standing in holds a different person, somebody you don’t know, somebody you’re not at all interested in. You frown, scanning the crowd.

Satoru waves a hand in front of your face. You look up at him, annoyed.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? Need a reason to talk to a pretty girl?” 

“That’s an overused line,” You shout back, the music so loud you can barely hear yourself. Your attention shifts away from the snowy haired man back to the sea of party goers. You desperately search the throng of buzzing chaos. No sign of Suguru. Just dancing, mingling, kissing, drinking, the typical activities going on under the strobe lights. Fuck.

Suguru, where did you go? Please… Your heart feels like it’s a rock in your stomach. Please don’t tell me you’re fucking her right now in somebody’s bedroom. It’s not my business— but I can’t stand the thought of it—

Satoru chuckles, and you look back at him, unable to hide your expression of pain. You’re about to excuse yourself to find a bathroom to cry in, when he speaks again.

“You’re right. How should I flirt, hm? Wanna coach me? It’ll lift your blues, too,” His smirk would’ve had you folding had you not ever met Suguru. But you did cross paths with the raven-haired man— collided and intertwined, more like— and now nobody compares to him. Nobody would ever be him. 

“Not really. Excuse me,” you begin to say, before turning slightly, about to slip away—

“Suguru is my best friend,” he says. 

You freeze, whipping around now to face Satoru.

“He told me about you— first time he ever told me about anyone, actually. Suguru said you were somebody he actually loved.” Satoru’s cheeky expression has been wiped off, replaced with one of aloof nonchalance and detachment. It’s almost eerie, but your focus isn’t on that.

You’re at a loss for words, eyes caught on Satoru’s, hanging onto everything he says like maybe, just maybe, it means that Suguru wants you back.

“He’s had his fair share of flings and hookups, after all.” Satoru teases, smirking again, bending down to your level.

“I thought I was losing my best friend to a weakling.” His breath is surprisingly chilly against your face. “Turns out you were never the one. Sucks that you couldn’t make him stay.” You feel everything shatter. “Sucks for you, I mean,” Satoru finishes. He leaves out the part where he gloats about being the one Suguru has always admired, and stuck with. 

You’re shocked, mouth hanging open. You’re hurt. You’re aching in confusion about what wasn’t good enough about you. You’re angry and betrayed— all the feelings clash like giant waves crashing against one another inside your heart. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Satoru grins, shrugging. “It means what it means. But I’m curious,” he says, leaning closer, his pearly teeth glinting red under the strobe lights, “What is it about you that had Suguru caught up on ya?” His lips graze your cheek, his voice in your ear, “I don’t get it.”

You slap him before you can realize what you’re doing. Violence is not the answer, but this time, it sure as hell felt like it. Your fingers sting, your panicked thoughts a running train. Did I just? Oh my god! I didn’t— I fucking did—

“I— I’m sorry—” you stammer quickly, eyes wide in shock at your own actions. Satoru is eerily emotionless, staring down at you with those startling ocean eyes. You shiver despite the heat of the stuffy, overcrowded room. 

“Hm.” 

It’s all he says. You open your mouth to speak again, blinking— 

And he’s gone. 

— — —

A swig of the liquor causes the liquid to slosh in the green bottle. 

“Thought you liked shy girls, Suguru?” Satoru pokes, a red handprint on his cheek. He’s kicked back on the couch outside the bathroom, grimacing when the alcohol hits his tongue. He’s spitting it out back into the bottle immediately. 

“I do,” Suguru replies calmly, a streak of lovely bare skin showing amidst the shaving cream on his face. He runs the razor back down, taking off more of the fluffy white foam. 

“Yeesh. Can’t believe we used to drink this shit,” Satoru sticks his tongue on dramatically, tossing the full glass of alcohol across the room. It lands right in the trash bin with a clang. “That’s where it belongs,” he huffs. 

“So?” Satoru prompts, kicking his feet up. “You realize she doesn’t fit your ideal type, right? Why’d you get with her for a whole year, then?”

“She was shy at first,” Suguru says softly, a glint of something like pain in his eyes. He catches Satoru’s gaze on him in the mirror and the glint disappears. Satoru notices, but says nothing, now peeling open a candy from its foil wrapper. 

“And I told you already, Satoru,” Suguru continues, sparing his friend an exasperated glance. “I love—d her.” A blip. A mistake so quickly covered that if it was anyone but Satoru, they’d have missed it.

Blue eyes pierce Suguru. 

“But it wasn’t going to work out. Love isn’t meant for us. You and I… We’re not meant to be with humans,” Suguru murmurs, looking at his face in the mirror. It was myth that vampires didn’t have reflections. They do. But there’s something the myths forgot. Some sort of change is written in a vampire’s eyes. There always has been, and always will be, some sort of difference from a person’s antecedent human form, and their new, evolved one, hidden in their eyes after they turn. Suguru touches his eyebags, dark and heavy. 

That’s not what changed. No. His warm, earthy brown eyes had turned purple the night Satoru turned him. He woke up with them, the day after everything changed. 

Suguru’s tired reflection stares back at him, rich amethyst irises shining like glossy, sharp stars in the mirror. He wishes he didn’t recognize them. Now he’s stuck dealing with people commenting on his “cool contacts,” for the rest of eternity. Suguru exhales deeply, softly, his still, dead heart aching.

“Being undead with a vital thirst for human blood will do that,” Satoru ho-hums, blissfully unaware of the insensitive nature of his obliviousness. 

Suguru is silent, continuing to shave, but the blade knicks his skin. He curses quietly. 

“So,” Satoru grunts with chocolate melting on his tongue, grateful that at least his cravings and delight in sweets didn’t change when they turned, “You don’t trust yourself to be around her without hurting her. But you were doing well for a year. What do you say changed?”

Suguru dabs at the blood dripping down his otherwise unmarked face. It would heal, his skin would be perfectly smooth again in a day, not a trace of his mistake, or scar, would remain. All wounds heal within 24 hours for vampires. It’s something Suguru was grateful for, considering his job of being a vampire slayer. 

“My urges got insatiable. Blood bags weren’t enough,” Suguru says curtly. Despite the battle of breaking up with you being long over, Suguru’s mind is a war zone. I couldn’t even look at her… without… needing to taste her blood. His fists clench on the marble sink. It got bad. I almost hurt her.

Satoru stares at his best friend, knowing that in this silence, his mind is a maelstrom. Suguru sees Satoru’s unflinching gaze, but remains quiet. He knows his friend won’t understand. 

But Satoru presses on anyway, nodding, looking bored. 

“Right. You can’t suppress your urges right now. That happened to me too. The second year is the hardest.” Satoru was the one who turned Suguru, after all, on that unwelcomed, fateful night. “It helps when you just feed on multiple pretty girls a night and compel them all to forget— You could’ve had both, you know. Her and human blood from others. You’re so mopey now.” Satoru’s callous remark piques Suguru’s irritation, a flame of anger burning in the raven-haired man’s chest.

“I won’t do that and be in a relationship.” 

“I saw you feeding on that random chick an hour ago. If you and I didn’t always ask for consent before feeding, I’d never have believed she would be okay with that,” Satoru’s eyes gleam playfully. Suguru doesn’t reply, and Satoru deflates. 

“You’re still grumpy. You move around like you’re actually dead, Suguru. You torture yourself by still caring about your ex. She’s nothing special. I don’t get it.” 

Ah. The truth comes out. Suguru’s eyebrows knit, his mouth pressed into a firm line as something dark flickers in his eyes. 

“Satoru, she has a name, and she’s worth something even if you can’t see it. Just shut up.”

“And what worth do you see in her?”

Suguru is silent for a moment. How could he convey the light and warmth that you were in his life? He’d died twice, once literally, once figuratively, and yet— you brought him back. “…She’s… good.”

“And?”

Suguru’s temper flares. “You just don’t get it, so will you just leave it?” He snarls, fangs involuntarily popping out. He curses silently in disgust at what he has become. 

“You’re such a grouch nowadays,” Satoru huffs, before popping another chocolate into his mouth. He gets up, stretching. 

“Well. I need to feed again.” 

“Be safe about it. And I’m not referring to your safety,” Suguru says sternly, his whole head turned to look at Satoru now, some white foam still on the man’s face. 

“Yeah, yeah, mom, I got it.” With that, Satoru pulls his black coat over his lean, muscled body, a wolfish grin on his face as he slips out the apartment door. Did he need the black coat? No. Not at all. Vampires don’t get cold. They’re already icy to the touch. But it helps him blend in, both with humans and the night. 

— — — 

You’re intoxicated. It’s two AM and you’re stumbling around campus like a fucking idiot. 

Well how about that? Satoru spies you from across the quad, your movements sluggish and uncoordinated. 

He slips through the shadows. 

You nearly jump when a tall, dark figure appears before you, looming over you. 

Snowy hair shines in the lamplight, blue eyes flashing like glaciers, staring right at you. You swear they flash red for a second.

“You again?” You slur your words. You aren’t scared. He’s Suguru’s best friend, which means he by extension must be a good guy. Almost as if he hears your thoughts, Satoru grins. His teeth are brilliant, his canines shining ivory and glistening like expensive accessory jewels.

Do not plagiarize my writing in any way. Do not feed my writing to ai.

Comment to be on the taglist :)! Sharing your thoughts are appreciated!!!

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 26

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 19 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Y/n lifted her head when she managed to see a blank sheet of paper falling next to her notebook, finding Alma with a smile as soon as her eyes were on her.

—What's this? —she smiled, picking up the envelope to open it.

—I'm getting married —she excitedly informed.

—Oh my god. Really? Congratulations!

Unable to hide her excitement for her colleague, Y/n got up from her chair to hug her tight, moving her arms under her curly locks. It was so out of character for her, yet she felt so comfortable with that display of affection... And there was no point in denying that what had been happening the past few days had nothing to do with it.

—I didn't invite you earlier because we weren't really close, but I'd really like to see you there —Alma admitted, stepping back—. Donna and Jackie are also coming, and I think some other people here as well.

—I'll be there without a doubt —she assured her.

—And you can also bring that hot neighbor of yours.

When Y/n dared to look away from the invitation to look at her colleague, Alma was giving her a malicious smile while she winked at her.

Free drinks, free food... Jungkook would definitely love that.

—I'll think about that.

—I'll let you work again —her thumb caressed her forearm—. I'll see you for lunch?

—Sure! —fuck... Jason— Wait, no. I can't.

—Lil' date with that cutie? —as much as Y/n attempted to deny it, she knew her colleague would just pretend to believe it while walking away— See you later, then!

It had been months since she saw Jason for the last time before he moved to Florida to work as an estate agent in a company, after being promoted in the branch office in Chicago. He was one of the biggest supporters she had when Noah passed away, and he still was -although he wasn't as present as before, and she couldn't blame him, life went on for everyone.

Her steps slowly paused as she started walking down the stairs to the entrance to wait for Jason there, seeing that same black motorbike she was a little too familiar with.

If those three days had worked for something for Jungkook, it was to make him dependable on Y/n. His mind kept getting busier with thoughts related to her, and he went past that phase of sending dumb messages to wait for her answer thirty minutes later.

He was a man of action.

Well, that... and the fact that Jimin got so tired of speaking to himself that he ended up coming up with the idea of taking her to have lunch.

It was so stupid, yet at the same time it made sense for him how, after spending so much time with her, he got used to being around Y/n. And far from being bothered by her presence, he was upset at the lack of it whenever they were apart.

And that was exactly why he was waiting in front of her workplace, seeing her coming out the building as if she had read his mind.

They were connected.

Jungkook took off his helmet, holding it on his lap with his left hand while he tried to push his bangs back with his right hand. Her presence, as always, captivated him. She was wearing a white turtleneck sweater that fitted her body perfectly, embracing it almost like a second skin. His gaze moved down to the black A-line skirt she was wearing, which had a delicate white grid pattern. As he looked down at the way it flared slightly at her knees, he noticed a pair of black, over-the-knee boots that looked way too good on her to be real.

—3A.

But he wasn't able to say much more, because she spoke as soon as she was close enough to be able to speak to him in a normal tone.

—What are you doing here? —she asked, confused, looking at the other helmet he was carrying around his right forearm.

—Let's go somewhere for lunch —he suggested—. I know of a good brasserie around.

—Kook, I can't today. I already had plans.

He wanted to ignore how upset he felt about her words, but he couldn't even try to pretend he wasn't affected.

—Oh, were you going out with your colleagues?

—No, actually...

—Y/n!

When he looked back at the owner of that voice, he found a tall and lean man, with a presence that was hard to ignore as he approached them with a wide smile. His dark hair was casually tousled, not even being messed up by the soft breeze hitting them, looking effortlessly stylish. His white, textured shirt that was open at the collar, was revealing a hint of a chiseled chest.

And the second he approached them enough so Jungkook could be able to pick up all the flaws he could, just to be punched with the calm confidence his faint smile radiated while his arms wrapped around Y/n with a hug.

His moment was stolen, her attention was on someone else. He was second place... and he hated being left in second place.

—Are you busy?

—No, I was just speaking to a friend —Y/n commented, pointing at Jungkook.

—Hey, what's up? —the boy, who seemed to be around their age, greeted Jungkook when aware of his presence— I'm Jason —he tried to introduce himself, lifting his hand for a high-five.

Of course that was Jason.

—Jungkook —he simply moved his head for a greet, purposely ignoring his approach—. Are you guys going somewhere?

—We're going to have lunch somewhere around —Jason friendly informed him.

—Great, I was starving. That's what I came here for. Right, Y/n? —Jungkook started yapping, hopping off his motorbike— I was just telling her.

—Yes, you were. But you might be uncomfortable if you come —she tried to persuade him.

—Nah, I adapt well —he ignored her again—. I know of a great brasserie near here. Let's go.

She couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Jungkook leading the way to the restaurant, as if it had been his plan to meet up with the two of them, only receiving a comforting smile and a shrug from her friend.

Not enough with that, he stopped himself and got on purpose in between them every time Jason tried to approach her to tease her for that new friend she had made.

It was no surprise from her to have such a peculiar fling, after her long on-and-off relationship with her ex boyfriend, but this one seemed to take the cake.

Y/n sat first when they arrived, picking up the chair at the extreme right of the table, just because it was the first place she saw.

—I'll sit here —Jungkook rushed to say, stopping Jason from taking the spot next to her.

Although he took the spot right in front of her, Jungkook wasn't sure if that was a better spot or a worse one, since he got to look at Y/n straight in the eyes as they spoke. He was going to be able to hook her soul with his charms, and make her forget he was right at her left, beside her.

—Actually, I want to sit here —Jungkook spoke again, having Y/n dropping her smile.

—Kook, it's the right same thing —she rolled her eyes.

—The air conditioner is hitting you directly, and I'm a bit hot today.

—Then take off your jacket —she demanded in between her teeth, turning to smile at Jason right after.

—I also tend to order more than one beer, and I'm hidden here. The waiter won't see me. And...

—Fine, sit here —Y/n finally gave up, exchanging places with a smiley Jungkook.

That same smile slowly vanished when he started noticing some small details as he watched them speak. She was cornered by him and the wall, giving Jason the perfect angle for her to focus only on him. In the place she was taking before, she at least had the possibility to distract herself with anything else, but not anymore.

—Actually... —he wasn't able to say much more, her hand on his thigh stopped him from moving.

—Jungkook, if you want to keep your legs, sit the fuck down in your place —she whispered, bending over his body so Jason would only be able to hear some incomprehensible mumbles.

He just agreed, accepting his fate while his eyes moved around the restaurant, heart skipping a beat when her hand moved away to her lap while she smiled at that other man in front of him.

—So, how did you meet each other? —Jason asked, as soon as they both were calm.

—We're neighbors —Y/n answered.

—You're so lucky, I don't even know who's living next door where I live —Jason assured them.

—Well, it took us a bit to get here —Jungkook smiled, moving his elbow over the edge of the table—. My wall is proof of it.

—I drilled a hole in his wall because he wouldn't stop being loud —Y/n explained at the confused look from her friend.

—Holy shit, Y/n. A text message is too subtle for you?

—She also ruined clothes by throwing bleach over them. Oh, and never forget how the old lady a few floors up now thinks I'm a sex maniac because of some... hot mail. And, she faked to want peace, only so I'd eat a brownie filled with laxatives.

He didn't know if he was bringing it all up to defend himself, to push a button on Y/n -because he loved it when she was annoyed-, or if he wanted to scare away the man that was looking at them in disbelief.

—Seriously? Don't play innocent. You sneaked yellow tint in my shampoo. I looked like Piolin for three fucking days —her body completely turned to him—. And don't forget how you sent me to the ER after putting spice in my food.

—I didn't know you were intolerant.

—Wait, you're the homicidal? —Jason interrupted— Why didn't you tell me before it was him? —he scoffed, shaking his head.

—Did she talk about me?

Jungkook went deaf, despite him being the one asking the question. He was only aware of her friend's smile as he spoke, and Y/n's shy smile while looking down, while his heart pumped against his chest so hard that he was able to hear it perfectly.

She did talk about him with someone who was close to her.

That thought kept him calm for most of the lunch, ignoring how smiley Y/n looked while speaking to Jason, or how that guy didn't take his eyes away from her, not even when he was eating his roasted chicken. And he even omitted the fact that neither of them aimed at him once throughout their conversation.

Jungkook remained calm and quiet... until he didn't.

Y/n's body immediately reacted to the touch of Jungkook's hand over her boot, right on the small piece of skin her lifted skirt exposed. As soon as she felt his pinky pushing down the edge of the fabric, attempting to move forward before her hand tried to stop him.

It didn't matter how much she tried to fight it, there was no way she would success pushing him away without making it obvious for Jason.

Just like Jungkook, Y/n lost track of the conversation she was holding while his hand moved up, resting his palm on her inner thigh and her smaller finger so close to her panties that she could even feel his touch.

—Jungkook, Y/n told me you're a boxer —Jason tried to drive him back to their conversation.

Although some of the bruises on his reverse, and the light wounds on his knuckles gave out how he, at least, practiced it.

—I am —he answered proudly—. Actually, I'm a pretty successful entrepreneur.

Y/n wanted to scoff at that comment, but holding back her skin from burning, so she wouldn't start feeling uncomfortable with her clothes, kept her way too busy.

—I own a gym —he remarked again—. Although I love taking control of what goes on there, so I work like any other employee would.

And because there was no other employee other than him and Jimin, and his friend didn't do anything else other than taking control of the administration of the place.

—I did boxing, but it wasn't my thing —Jason laid back—. Guess when you're good, you keep working on it. And if you aren't, you find a 9 to 5 job that gives you stability. My friend here —he mentioned, pointing at Y/n with his head— has an office job, but is everywhere except her office.

And Jungkook knew exactly why.

—You talk like a grandpa, I don't know how Kelsey is keeping up with you —Y/n chuckled.

—Kelsey? —Jungkook frowned.

—Oh, my wife —Jason answered with a lovely smile, showing off his golden ring.

Suddenly, all worries vanished away from Jungkook's body when he learnt about that significant other. If he knew something about Y/n, it was that she'd never stoop so low to get in the middle of a relationship, and even less while knowing the other person. The night she came back covered in wine was the best proof of it.

—Oh, I have to leave —Jungkook suddenly pulled his hand away from her, reaching to his phone with the other—. My partner wants to have a quick meeting.

—Sure. It was nice meeting you —Jason smiled.

—I'll see you later.

Right after saying that, Jungkook dropped a fast peck on her lips, that she didn't see coming -and which she didn't quite assume until she saw him walking out the restaurant.

—Did he just leave without paying? —Jason wondered at her left.

—That's exactly what he did —she sighed.

—Well, I like him better than the asshole of Kyle.

—We aren't dating —Y/n rushed to deny.

—Sure. You're just neighbors who kiss each other, get jealous, and who play footsie under the table.

—What? —her eyebrows lifted, while her cheeks started burning.

—It's not like you're the best at pretending, and he wanted to make it quite obvious —he scoffed, sipping on his beer.

—We're just neighbors... Who sometimes fuck each other, and who're just getting on well —she shrugged—. And I might be liking him a bit.

—No shit, Sherlock —while he laid back to look at her, Jason crossed his arms over his chest—. He's a bit shameless, but I like him for you. At least you know you won't be bored with him, in the good sense.

—Yeah, no. That for sure ain't happening.

They both made sure to avoid it from happening.

Shouts and jeers from the spectators blended into a cacophony of noise. Smoke from illicit cigarettes and cigars hung in the air, creating a hazy, oppressive environment, that combined with the smell of sweat and fear, mingling with the metallic scent of blood, made her dizzy at first.

Her eyes wandered around the place like they had been doing ever since they arrived, puckering her lips while she tried to memorize as many faces as she could. She felt like a cop undercover, just that she didn't have a gun, and if she was exposed looking too deep into some details she had no other way to defend herself than calling out Jungkook, who was on the other extreme of the warehouse.

His eyes never left her either way, even when he was in the middle of a fight -which he only managed to win because the other fighter was worse than him. That feeling of something happening to her while she was there had his heart at the top of his throat.

It was a bad idea to have her there -and he thought he learnt that the last time-, but knowing the way her eyes would shine with the news only worked to test his own limits and push his own rules away.

He was a dumbass.

—There aren't good fighters anymore —she heard a man rant behind her—. Jungkook is an exception, and he isn't even out for sale. He's too busy being Elijah's dog.

She couldn't be bothered about that comment because, as much as she grew closer to Jungkook, the truth was that he was allowing others to play with him like a toy, using a gym that wasn't even his as a bargaining chip. Although she couldn't judge him for it either. Just like her, he had his reasons to do what he was doing.

—I think trainers shit their pants whenever they have to send these kids here, after what happened with the Line of the 21.

—The best defender in a coma, and the best attacker dying of a heart attack.

Y/n paused when she heard that, recognizing her brother's case almost immediately. But still waiting to hear some other details that could confirm it was him.

—That guy wasn't ready —the man opposed—. Whoever his trainer was, fucked up sending him to that fight when he had heart issues.

—I lost my bet that day, but do you know what I got?

Y/n subtly turned, just to be able to see through the corner of her eye whatever it was he was showing to the other man he was talking to. Her blood stopped running when she recognized that pendant, in the shape of a cross. Two nails formed the horizontal bar of the cross, and one longer nail formed the vertical bar, with them being arranged with their heads pointing outwards and the tips meeting at the center.

—Is that from the fighter who died? —Y/n asked, giving up the act.

She was supposed to be there cheering for Jungkook, watching him from afar while he fought in the middle of the makeshift ring, moving over the mixture of dirty and dry blood every time he moved to attack his opponent.

—You like it? It's pretty, huh —he praised, enrolling the chain around his knuckles—. When you have an eagle eye, you're able to catch these things —he winked at her—. While others were running away, I managed to find this.

As much as she wanted to be disgusted by that attitude, when someone else was about to die not even thirty minutes after he reached the hospital, the shock to see something that belonged to her brother being held by someone else was bigger.

—How much do you want for it?

She was willing to pay anything.

—It's not for sale, pretty —he put on the necklace again.

—I'll pay anything.

—Well, that's another story —the man stepped towards her—. Why don't we go outside and put that little mouth to work? I might let you look at it up close.

It took Y/n to feel his callouses hands on the curve of her ass to throw a fist in his direction, shocking him at first when he didn't expect her to defend herself that way.

Jungkook, who had been watching suspiciously from afar their approach, suspected there would be nothing good coming out of their conversation, and he was right when he saw his dirty hand moving over her body.

It worked automatically: one hand on her, and his feet started moving, leaving his place for the next fight just to reach her. Her punch collided against his face and before the man could even lift his arm to attempt to hit her, Jungkook punched him again to make him fall to the floor.

—Are you alright? —he turned to her.

—He has Noah's necklace —she mumbled, with her pupils shaking.

The bell announced the next fight, the second one he was going to participate in to seal the deal with Elijah. Although he knew the second he moved away from her, someone would be back at her neck.

It was a one second decision. And he had it clear before he could even hesitate to choose.

His fingers wrapped around her wrist, pulling her to assure himself she was glued to his body while they walked through the aggressive crowd that was anticipating the next fight.

Jungkook didn't even bother to take off the bandages around his hands, because he knew it urged her to get out of there. But as every time he was in a rush to get out of somewhere, something stopped him.

—Are you leaving? —Elijah interrogated.

—My girlfriend isn't feeling alright —Jungkook answered.

—And because she isn't feeling alright you're leaving? Let her take some fresh air and put your ass in that ring.

—I'm sorry, dude —Elijah's hand on his chest stopped him from taking a step.

—Ten thousand dollars, Jungkook. Don't forget what you're giving up on.

That was the deal.

It would help him erase some debts he had been dragging for months, it'd even give him the chance to renovate some details in the gym. But he had to fight twice -with only the first one giving him one thousand dollars worth in equipment.

It was either money, or Y/n's safety -after she chose to lose her chill to punch somebody.

He had it clear.

Jungkook didn't answer. He only clenched his jaw while gripping on her wrist a bit tighter to get out of there.

Neither of them talked. And while at first Y/n wanted to blame the helmets, it didn't get any better when they stepped inside his house. They just moved quietly, as if their words were going to lack any meaning, and their actions were the only thing that mattered.

Y/n silently moved, kneeling in front of him in between his legs, with the aid kit next to him to clean the small wounds on his face. She had been too shocked on their way out of the warehouse to realize what had happened.

—I'm sorry —she muttered—. I just... couldn't help it.

—It's alright —he lied.

—Kook, you lost ten thousand dollars, are you serious? —she called him out— I'll try to pay you back. I don't know... I'll be giving you money every month until I make up for it.

He wanted to be mad at her, yet everything she said, the pitch of her voice, the way her eyes were tinted with guilt... he just couldn't. And that annoyed him even more.

—Y/n, that's not the problem —he held her wrists, keeping him from touching him, because he knew he'd lost focus the second her fingertips lied on him.

—And what's the problem?

—You. You're the problem —he finally sentenced, getting up from his seat—. I want to be mad at you, and I just can't. I can't get mad at you, I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop worrying about you... It's overwhelming.

Y/n pressed her lips together, turning her body to him, thinking it was the closest he'd ever been to being honest about his feelings. That was probably the weakest she had seen him since they met each other.

—And it's all your fault —that accusation, with such belligerence, wasn't what she expected—. You're like a fucking disease. When I started being nice with you and came up with living with you, it was supposed to end with me getting done with you. Who knows? Maybe a few hook ups would make it all up, but nope. It's even worse. I get jealous, which I hate by the way. And now I even gave up to ten thousand dollars. It's so fucking insane.

She watched him coming and going in his living room, nervously yapping while confessing out loud what he was after with his sudden change in attitude.

—Is it so bad to like me?

—Yes! —he rushed to answer— I was happy with my life until you showed up with your freaky habits, and crazy reactions.

Y/n got up from the floor, walking towards him with her eyes fixed on his. If there was something she found out, it was that she was stupid for ever putting her walls down for him. She wasn't scared of admitting she was wrong about him, she didn't care to admit she started liking him... but she did hate to realize that she was fooled.

—Where are you going? —Jungkook asked, watching her dragging her small suitcase from his room to the living room.

—Why don't you do what you're longing so much to do and mind your business? —she cut him off.

—Didn't you hear what I said? I can't.

—Then try a bit harder. I know that for that little brain of yours any form of effort is a big waste of energy, but just try it —she turned to him—. I haven't met anyone so childish and immature, stuck in his conformist complex, just because he's scared of change, in my life.

Jungkook felt his heart beating faster, and the air being cut from his lungs while a knot formed on his throat as he saw Y/n packing her things. He should be feeling relieved, yet all his thoughts were becoming depressing.

—Don't —she warned him, lifting her index in the air, when Jungkook attempted to reach for her hand—. Do you think I have time to deal with your emotional detachments? I have enough problems of my own to deal with yours.

—It's because...

—And don't mention that fucking curse, please —she breathed deeply.

—At least spend the night here.

New reinforced fact about her: she was a bigger stubborn than he was, and he noticed when his door slammed against the walls as she stepped outside.

She knew she wasn't supposed to go back to her place yet, but it was going to be something for that night. At least until she found a cheap hotel where to stay while the works were done in her apartment.

It was good while it lasted. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett