#(L for Landlord's problem)
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aw yeah we love dyed hair
HEHEHE HELL YEAH
ough the stars for pupils I need to do that. literally call my self insert Aster and can't remember if I ever did that I only remember the cat pupils with the laser pointer
Also fun fact I have since found a spot where. somehow. dye splotched onto my floor and now there's a red streak of a stain. I am so so sorry, Eclipse gfhdjsk
#answer let luce#chaireem#menace4menace fanwork#menace4menace#every time I wash my hair it still looks like a bloodbath#chlorine didnt get the stain from the ground so i gotta try bleach maybe#or just take the L#(L for Landlord's problem)
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TOURING THE APARTMENT TOMORROW
#C H A O S#BUT I HAVE A GOOD FEELING...#LAKE PROBLEMS LAKE PROBLEMS AND I GET TO BE T A L L#if not htere's another spot with a balcony. but this lady seemed cool#she understood the nightmare#of having a voucher rn#but she's worked with the housing authorities here for 20 years... fuck landlords but she lives on-site so I mean. really it's just a matter#of tending the house then. not so bad.#(I get to be tall as in it's a top level deal. not a tall apartment.)
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Someone in my gated building smashed my car window. Someone in my gated building stole my package. What's the point of the fucking gate
#i swear im just trapped with people who look down on everyone outside their circle#its condos so most of them chose to buy the unit#i rent! im here because it was the only option with an elevator!#because i rent management pretends like i don't fucking exist!#when i have problems they l i t e r a l l y ignore me!#the one time they reached out to me they actually were just playing telephone with my landlord as the middle man#they have my fucking contact information and literally know where i live#ihateitihateitihateit#my post
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If u have any conections in the online community please let me know and contact me cuz i need to find out how to buy Www.TheSadTruth.Net to tell my story for the first time on my own terms one last time wich despite it all still rings true even though i was built fucked up and my mind was made to be horible from the very start and ive been havign a hard time lately and realy strugling with my problems and shit and they raised the price of the green juice lime botles si uts realy hard for me to even aford basic necesities of my shitty excuse for a life i cant even make my #FamouisCubanBurban cocktale anymore to go with my cigars im not even able to aford a good stogie every day no more and ive had to downgrade from pappy 23 to pappy 20 fuck my shitty ass life and i just need to be able to let everybody kno how much they have skull fucked me in the ass all the time epecially since the feds and the mens in black at the variuos "Federal" criminal agencies got involved with my phone gig they i was honetly trying to find new friends with my phone and i didnt even mean to take nobodys money or nothin they just gave me the gift cards as a gift for me since they liked me alot so now im on my l;ast legs and cant aford rent anymore since my landlord #BeheadTheLandlors is trying to kick me out of my mental health meditation pad that i need for tranquilaty and self care in hawaiey not to mention #BigGov is not even leting me throw grenades for fishing no more so i guess that was my last ffcking bluefin i will ever get so they are making it super hard for me to even live at a base level and i realy need help and suport u can send me cash on my app called Cash App at $pjack9 if u want to mutual aid me up i will not forget my friends if i get out of this slump but i miht not ever post again since i will be long gone so fuck it i think its time i hoist the white flag bvut my enemys dont even want to see me a live even if im sitting cuteley like a puppy dog they will still blow my iron skull off at the drop of a top hat so just keep me posted if there is anything U would like to serve me with i realy like: Twunks, jocks, tweekers, scratchoffs, CigarPigs, MoneyPigs, PiggyBanks, and Goon Hunniez so dm me yo junk imediately if u want to make me feel so good
The wolves are at my fucking door and I cant keep them out.
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right next door // part one | peter parker
ahhhh new series!!
masterlist!
summary: you move in right next door to a cutie, problem is, he isn't much of a talker. or anything at all. but it's okay, because you're dead-set on getting him to warm up to you.
warnings: mean peter :(
pairing: peter parker x fem!bubbly!reader
word count: 1.9k+ words
you scowled under your breath, absolutely frustrated.
“if you want us to take the boxes up to the fifth level, you’re going to have to pay us extra,” the man spoke, arms crossed. the movers you had hired looked to be twins, around the age of 30, perhaps? they had heavy accents and took you to be a gullible female if they believed that you’d pay an additional 25 dollars for that.
“look, i included the information about my flat being on the fifth floor, and despite having that knowledge, you took this job. i am not paying you extra, so how about you do this right, okay?” you scoffed in disbelief; you didn’t know that moving into a new apartment would be so difficult. all you wanted was for these insufferable men to take your stuff to your flat so you could finally relax.
finally breathe, because you hadn’t gotten any “you” time since you made the decision to move into a whole new state, which you were starting to regret now.
no, no, independence is always worth it.
probably.
either way, it was nice to get away from your overbearing parents that were currently all the way over in florida.
“lady, we don’t got all day, so either pay up, or-”
“i’ll take it from here,” a male voice interjected. you looked over to see a brunette, with honey-brown colored eyes and a perfectly sculpted face.
perfectly sculpted.
perfectly.
you’d seen him a couple times when checking out the building. he lived in e11, which was part of the reason you’d moved into e12, right next door. there wasn’t anything wrong with wanting a god for a neighbor, right?
that was a rhetorical question, of course there wasn’t anything wrong with it.
after poking around (begging your landlord for his name and room number), you found out that he was peter parker from e11.
you watched him walk over and raise an eyebrow at the men, who stood unmoving. “i said we got it from here.”
“you her boyfriend or something?”
“and what would it be to you?” peter adjusted his position to where his arms were crossed, shirt tight and muscles flexed.
okay, so it wasn't just his face that was perfectly sculpted.
the men exchanged eye contact and shook their heads, sighing. you stuck your tongue out at them, despite the fact they were already walking out the door, backs facing you.
you called out, “and that’s one star for you guys on yelp!”
brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, you looked back at peter, who was already picking up a box. “oh, hey, you don’t have to do that. i’m sure i’ll manage.”
“it’s okay. i don’t mean to underestimate your strength, but these boxes aren’t very light.”
“yes, but-… are you sure? i don’t want to burden you with this.”
he glanced at you, balancing a box on top of the one he was holding, “it’s no burden. unless you don’t want my help, which is a different story altogether.”
“uh, no, nothing like that,” you hesitated. he seemed very stoic, in no mood for small talk, or to converse in general. “but thanks for what you did. i didn’t need the help, i could have handled it on my own, but… um, thanks.”
“did you a favor,” he shrugged, “you weren’t really getting anywhere with that.”
you frowned at his bluntness, but bit back a retort. he was willing to help you, this complete stranger. and for that, you were grateful.
picking up one of the lighter boxes, you followed after him on the stairs. “so… um… i’m y/n. l/n,” you added after a second.
“peter parker,” was all he said, and you nodded as if you hadn’t previously known that.
“nice to meet you, peter.”
“what room do you live in?”
“e12.” you stopped yourself from adding right next to you.
“’kay.”
“what about you?”
“huh?”
“w-where do you live?”
“e11.”
“oh,” you smiled, as if you didn’t know that as well. “that’s so cool! we’re neighbors!”
“yay.”
it seemed like that was sarcastic, so you decided that it was best to maybe shut up. so that’s what you did.
after a while, you were able to get all your boxes (with peter doing most of the work). you stood in your flat with your hands on your hips as peter put the last box down. “seriously,” you breathed, “thank you so much. i have no idea what i’d do if you weren’t there.”
“negotiate with russian twins and get nowhere.”
you laughed nervously, unsure of whether or not that was a joke. “um, you can stay a little longer, if you’d like. or not. that’s fine, too.” you were hoping he’d stay, even though you literally had nothing for him to sit on. there was no furniture… but maybe he’d want to stay anyways?
“i’m good.”
“o-okay, peter. see you around?”
without another word, he slipped out of your apartment, shutting the door behind him.
you thought that moving in next to peter would make you a little less lonely, and maybe you’d make a new friend.
but perhaps your mother was right. what if you weren’t ready for all this?
new job, new home, new state… new everything.
you were all alone in the big city.
but- but it would be okay, you decided, shaking your head. “it’s fine. i can do this. i’m going to do this. today was a minor setback, which my mom doesn’t need to know about… and i need to make new friends before talking to myself becomes a habit.”
you stood in the middle of your flat, grinning. nothing was going to stop you from achieving your dream.
-
your new job at the daily bugle wasn't going to start for another week, so you had time to unpack and adjust. music blared from the speakers, helping you get into your new groove. you sang and danced around to it, laughing like a fool (you were sleep deprived).
you took the plastic wrapping off the couches and adjusted them to where you liked, with much struggle, of course. next came chairs and tables, and you were glad to get those out of the way. once you’d completed moving and unpacking some of the bigger things, you had gotten bored.
but, nevertheless, you still wanted to be productive. finally, you settled on decorating the living room. taking out pillows, throw blankets, and pictures, you put them all in their designated places.
in complete exhaustion, you tossed yourself onto your couch. “aw, crap, where i am gonna sleep tonight?” you groaned.
in hindsight, maybe you should’ve done the bedroom first. man, you were kind of a mess without your mother.
laying there, gazing up the bare ceiling, your thoughts drifted to peter. he was mean, but in a reserved way. like it wasn’t really to be mean, but more about how his personality was. “oh, well, i’ll just make him warm up to me.”
after all, you did need friends. so why not start with peter?
with a new task at hand, you jumped up, speeding towards the kitchen. you planned on making him cookies, after all, who didn’t like those? you preheated the oven… before realizing you had to unpack all your kitchen related items.
and you had to go shopping for ingredients.
you had some money to last you until a new paycheck, so you might as well spend it somehow. besides, this could be a way to get peter to like you.
not like that.
well, not yet.
first, you had to get him to be friends with you. no, scratch that. you had to go shopping first.
-
“you need butter to make cookies, right?” you asked yourself, glancing over to your cart that currently held milk, eggs, and flour in it. “oh! and sugar! …vanilla extract? why on earth haven’t i googled this yet?” shaking your head in dismay, you pulled out your phone, searching up what you needed.
“okay… so…chocolate chips. gah, how did i forget that? cornstarch, and salt,” you looked at the aisle you were in, pausing momentarily. after a second, you threw a pack of measuring spoons in. “obviously, you need chocolate chips for chocolate chip cookies!”
sighing, you glanced up, only to be met with the eyes of a bewildered woman. “um… sorry,” you mumbled sheepishly, forgetting you were in public.
seriously, you needed new friends. pronto.
you wheeled your cart to the checkout aisle and waited in line. looking up, you saw a masked figure on the television. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and tilted your head, squinting to read the caption; “spider-man stops yet another robbery”.
“huh,” you murmured quietly. “spider-man.”
“mommm, isn’t he so cool?” turning your head, you saw a little boy pointing at the screen.
“what? yeah, he is,” she said, filing through her wallet.
you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, going into safari. the knit between your eyebrows hadn’t left as you tapped on the first news link, jjjnews.com.
spider-man, the masked menace.
you looked up and frowned. menace? you thought he was a hero, given the whole robbery thing. come to think of it, the name sounded familiar. “spider-man…” you hummed, testing it out once more.
whether he is in affiliation with the avengers, we do not know. the infamous spider-man, often referred to as the masked menace by his critics and opponents, raises an intriguing question: why does he feel the need to conceal his identity? what secrets is he keeping from us that drive him to hide behind a mask? could it be fear of exposure or perhaps a deeper motivational factor? but what drives him to conceal his true self from the world? what secrets lie beneath that mask, and what is he purposefully keeping hidden from those around him?
these questions continue to haunt not only the citizens of new york city, but also his closest allies. while spider-man is praised as a courageous crime-fighter, some question if there is more to his story than meets the eye. as a beloved hero or feared vigilante, the truth behind spider-man's persona remains a mystery waiting to be unraveled.
with the emergence of new heroes comes a surge in villains as well, and perhaps spider-man's presence only adds fuel to the fire. it is time for the authorities to take action against this dangerous masked figure before any more harm is done.
you pressed your lips together, and exited the app. that was enough of that, because as far as you knew, this guy sounded like a hater. this man, expecting no incentive at all, risked his life every day to keep others safe.
what more did people want, honestly?
seeing as it was your turn, you picked things up from the cart and set them down onto the checkout. pulling out your wallet, you inserted the chip in the credit card.
“that’ll be $37.50.”
“um, okay,” why was that more than you thought it’d be?
yay, cookies, right?
somehow, you managed to make it home without crashing into someone, or someone crashing into you. you didn’t have a car yet, nor did you trust yourself with on here in nyc, so you took a taxi.
being completely honest, you were kind of excited about this. being more completely honest, you didn’t know how to bake. (or cook.)
but maybe it’d be okay. i mean, how hard was following instructions on a screen?
#tom holland x reader#tom holland#peter parker#spiderman#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#fluff#angst#tom holland x you#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader fluff#peter parker x reader angst#tom holland fluff#right next door part one#my writing
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➜ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑 — ❝ 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞
It was oddly cool that morning. A thin fog was hanging over the quiet street. The house felt too cramped, too suffocating, and after the weird thing last night with James, I needed space. So here I was sitting on the front step, hoodie pulled tight around me, with a joint in hand.
I took a deep drag in, letting it fill my lungs before exhaling again. That familiar warmness spread through me, calming my nerves and making everything more distant. I just wanted to forget about last night, the noise, and most of all, James. His stupid smirk, his digs, the way he'd gotten under my skin like he always did.
God, why did I even care?
I glanced down at the pavement, absently watching the smoke curl up into the morning air, trying to focus on anything but that idiot.
It was a creak of the door suddenly behind me that pulled me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Cliff or Kirk. But of course, it was James. Because of course it would be.
"Seriously?" I muttered under my breath as he stepped out onto the porch, the screen door clapping shut behind him. He paused a second, scanning the yard before his gaze settled on me. I half expected him to turn around and head back inside, but instead he came down the steps and sat on the step beside me.
"Great," I muttered, taking another hit. "Just what I needed this morning."
A minute passed with James uttering not one word, he just sat, elbows to knees, eyes straining out into the street. Already, his company was getting on my nerves, intruding on my solitude, but his silence was far more irritating. He didn't seem at all like his usual arrogant self, and it pissed me off, just like everything else he did.
Finally, after an awkward silence, he spoke up. "Weed's shitty.”
I blinked, surprised he said anything at all. "Excuse me?"
He shrugged, not looking at me. "It's shitty. Makes me feel weird."
I stared at him blankly. "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope."
I blew out a breath, shaking my head. "You're such a pussy."
He shot me a look, mouth twisting in a smirk. "Says the girl who gets stoned to escape her life.
I snorted, taking another drag, blowing the smoke in his direction to annoy him. "Life sucks, it's way easier to deal with when you're high. But you wouldn't know that, would you?"
James gave a short laugh, but there was no happiness reaching his eyes. "Oh, trust me, I know all about dealing with shitty reality.”
I turned to him, expecting another dig. His tone caught me off guard. He stared straight ahead, his jaw clenched.
"What's wrong with you this morning?" I asked. "You're even more of an asshole than usual."
"Maybe you're just more annoying than usual."
I rolled my eyes. "Right. I'm the annoying one.”
He fell silent, then grumbled, "You don't get it."
I cocked an eyebrow, intrigued now. "What don't I get?"
"Don't matter."
I leaned back on my elbows and let the smoke swirl lazily around me. "You're such a mystery, Hetfield," I say with a snarky tone. "All brooding and tortured, huh?”
"Better than being a spoiled little brat who's never had to deal with shit," he spat back, his voice tinged with resentment.
I glared at him now as my mood flipped. "Spoiled? You think I'm spoiled?"
He shrugged again, refusing to look at me. "You live with us rent free, smoke Cliff's weed like it's nothing, and what, your biggest problem is you don't like me? Yeah, sounds real rough.”
His words cut a lot deeper than I'd bargained for, but I wasn't going to let him know that it got to me. And I sure as hell was not going to let him have the last word. "I'm not some spoiled princess who's had everything handed to her, if that's what you think," I said, sharper now. "I work, I pay my way-"
"You live in a basement.”
“Because my asshole landlord decided to raise the rent, not because I want to. Nobody asked me if I wanted to be here." I turned toward him, pausing. "Unlike you, right? You've had everything handed to you, perfect suburban life, doting mom, guitar lessons, and voilà! on stage living your rockstar dream. Must be nice.”
I didn't even know where the comment came from, but it was good to say it out loud, to throw his own assumptions right back in his face. But no more had the words left my lips than something changed.
James froze.
He didn't say a word for the longest time, just his jaw clenched and his fists curled at his sides. Anger? Pain? No clue.
"What?" I pressed again, getting a little nervous. "You gonna throw a tantrum now?”
His mouth opened to say something, then snapped shut, his whole body shaking with some kind of anger. I'd never seen him like that before. He looked like he was about to blow, but instead he just stood up abruptly, his fists still balled at his sides.
"You don't know shit about me," he growled out, through gritted teeth.
I blinked at the venom in his voice. "What the hell is your-"
But before I could get the sentence out, he whirled and stormed out the front door, slamming it so hard the glass rattled in its frame. The sound reverberated out into the still morning air, leaving a quiet in its wake.
I sat there for a few seconds, utterly speechless, the sudden change in his mood rendering me mute. One minute we were going at each other like any other day, and then he was… what? Furious? Hurt?
I glared at the door, my heart still racing from weird intensity of the moment. What the hell was his problem?
I hit the joint again, trying to shake off this uncomfortable feeling that had joined me. A few minutes later, I shrugged it off. If he wanted to sulk, that was his problem. At least he was out of my hair for now.
The rest of the day had been uneventful, or as uneventful as it tended to get in this house. Lars was up and at 'em in a foul mood, banging around the kitchen and swearing loudly at whatever was missing from his drum kit. Kirk spent most of the afternoon holed up in his room playing with new riffs, while Cliff was out in the backyard, lying with his bass, in space. I couldn’t find myself to care what James was doing.
I found myself late that afternoon again on the front step, staring at the place James had sat, trying to make sense of it all. I didn't know why that one remark would set him off that way, but as I considered longer, I realized just how little I did know about him. He wasn't exactly the sharing type, not that I was asking, anyway.
I was lost in thought when the door creaked open again. I looked up this time, expecting James, but it was Cliff holding a beer and offering a lazy grin in my direction. Thank God.
"Hey," he said, plopping down beside me. "You look deep in thought. What's up?
I took a deep breath, taking the beer he offered and popping the top. "Just… thinking."
Cliff raised an eyebrow. "That's dangerous. What about?”
I shook my head, caught between feelings. "It's nothing. Just the usual bullshit."
"Hmm," Cliff hummed, taking another swig of his beer. "That 'usual bullshit' wouldn't happen to involve James, would it?"
I shot him a look. "What makes you say that?”
Cliff let a laugh release from his throat. "Just a feeling. You two have been at each other since you moved in, and I noticed things got kinda pissy after the show last night."
I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the step. "It's always intense with him. He's an asshole."
"Yeah, he can be," Cliff said with a nod. "But there's normally a reason."
I frowned. "What do you mean?
Cliff drank half of his beer before answering. "James definitely isn't the easiest guy to figure out, but he's got his reasons for being the way that he is. I wouldn't take it too personally."
"Too late for that," I muttered, staring down at the beer in my hands. "He hates me."
Cliff chuckled. "I don't think he hates you. You two just push each other's buttons... A lot."
I snorted. "That's an understatement."
Cliff's voice gentled. "Look, I'm not saying you have to get along with him or anything, but maybe cut him some slack. He's got his own shit going on."
I raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
Cliff shrugged. "That's for him to tell you, not me. But just… be aware that there's more to him than what you see.”
I just sat in silence, thinking over Cliff's words. I didn't quite know what to make of it. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to spend my life tiptoeing around James Hetfield's emotional baggage. If he wanted to be an asshole, that was his choice. I wasn't here to fix him.
Yet Cliff's words lingered in my head and when the sun began to set, I drank a little more of my beer and let out a sigh. Whatever it was, I'd face it later. At least James had left me to my peace.
Even though that peace felt strangely hollow.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @killazilla777 @lcveslils @metallicaloverrr @frann4521 @ilovepapahet @morphica — comment or dm to join the taglist!
#mustainegf#fanfiction#fanfic#metallica#reqs open#request#metallica fanfiction#metallica x reader#metallica fluff#james hetfield#james hetfield x you#james hetfield x oc#james hetfield fluff#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x reader#james hetfield imagines#james hetfield fic#james hetfield fanfiction#metallica oneshot#metallica imagines#metallica au#roommates james hetfield
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your writing is so goooood wahhh the nanami fic had me on my knees, could you write a pizza delivery boy gojo x reader? maybe he's always picking up reader's orders so he can see her or something hehe (can be fluff or smut) ❤
WOOOO ANOTHER GOJO FIC
another college AU - slightly inspired by a story that actually happened in my life (it was less romantic irl and more creepy lmao)
reader is 20ish gojo is 22ish
cw: masturbation, sex?
-
Your sophomore year of college you absolutely scored when you found your apartment. It was on one of the main streets of the city so you could walk anywhere you want to go, hosted parties, and just had fun! The first floor of your building was a pizza shop which you occasionally stopped in; the owner of the shop owned the whole building so he was also your landlord and was a sweet older Italian man.
There was a tall employee that always caught your eye, but he was always working in the back. Most of the time you were picking up pizza your landlords sweet daughter was working the register so you never talked to the white haired beautiful man. However it seems like l you had caught his eye too? No you were just being delusional, he wasn’t staring at you… but how could you be mistaken with those bright blue eyes that you seem to look away as soon as you make eye contact with?
It’s not that you’re shy. It’s just that this man is so attractive your cheeks immediately blush and you can’t even try to talk to him. (hey Siri queue Gorgeous by Taylor Swift)
That is until one day, when you texted your landlord and asked if the delivery guy or someone could bring your order upstairs because you were “sick” (you were just hungover but you looked the part of being sick so whatever). He responds with a no problem and about 15 minutes later you hear an imposing knock on your door, almost entirely too loud for your tiny apartment building. It makes your head pound and even though it’s 4 pm and your hangover is still lingering around.
You mosey on over to the door, sweatpants, Ugg slippers, an ex boyfriends hoodie you kept, with your hair in a braid that definitely needed washed. You open the door, squinting at the fluorescent overhead lights before realizing just who was at your door.
The white haired man with the beautiful cerulean eyes was looking down at his phone waiting for the door to be answered and when he looks up the two of you lock eyes. Suddenly you become aware of just how bad you look and your eyes grow wide at your downstairs crush at your door.
“Are you…y/n? The boss asked me to bring this up to you.” The mystery delivery man asks with a shy smirk and hands you to box.
“Oh thank you yes I’m y/n,” you say fumbling in your pocket for the $20 bill you put in there earlier. “Um here…keep the change,” you awkwardly stick your hand out with the money in it, realizing how hot the pizza box is in your other hand.
“What if I asked for your number as a tip instead?” He smugly asks, now leaning his lanky frame up against your door frame. You bring your eyes up to meet his, trying to find if he was joking by the features of his face. He stuffs the $20 in his pocket and pulls out his phone and wiggles it in his hand, as if to say ‘see?’. Your lips draw into a slight smile seeing his goofiness, “sure,” you giggle making his smile grow wider.
He hands you his phone for you to type your number and name in with your free hand, your other hand still holding up your pizza you’ve been looking forward to.
“Thank you m’lady,” he winks at you when you hand his phone back and pushes off your doorframe and walks away down the stairs. “Text ya later,” he yells up at you from the bottom and you just smile and close your apartments front door, leaning against it and smiling as you open up the box and take a bite.
-
You anxiously await a text from the pizza boy only after realizing you still don’t know his name or his number but he has both of those pieces of information about you. The half eaten pizza box lays on your coffee table while Netflix drones on with a reality tv show in the background. You scroll through Instagram liking everyone’s pictures from the previous night out and daytime party shenanigans. You’re drawn out of your trance like state when you feel your phone vibrate, a message from an unsaved number popping up.
‘hi pretty lady 😘 - your favorite pizza boy’
He still hasn’t given you his damn name so you can’t look him up anywhere. Suddenly all flirting skills have gone out the window and you have no idea how to text back.
‘You’re such a flirt, do you treat all your customers with such kindness?’ you ultimately respond with.
‘only if their name is y/n and they live in apartment 2b :)’ he responds too fast and you’re immediately apprehensive. Why is this beautiful man flirting with you so brazenly out of no where? This smells like a fuck boy situation, but hey, what’s wrong with a hook up or friend with benefits? Maybe it’s time to up the ante and play with some fire.
‘Funny, I haven’t even gotten your name yet and you’re already laying it on thick. Seems to me you’re quite the flirt.’
*one image attached*
‘Am I still a flirt if I made this while thinking about you?’
‘yes actually, more so than before.’
‘fine :( but i need someone to share this with?’
‘I’m literally still working on the pizza you brought up here earlier, take it to the other girls I’m sure you’re also flirting with rn’
‘ouch shots fired’
You stare at your phone screen smiling like a teenager, kind of wanting to get to know this guy a little better. You smirk to yourself before typing out:
‘fine. I don’t want more pizza but I do want to hang out.’
The pizza boys only response for now is ‘😱😱😱’ so you decide to get off the couch and shower for the evening. Washing your hair, shaving your legs and other areas, exfoliating, and making sure you smell extra nice. At least if you don’t see a guy tonight you can consider this self care? After a relaxing 15 minute shower you wrap your hair in one towel and your body in another. You head into your bedroom and proceed to brush out your hair and put on some sweatpants and a sports bra while you get ready. Sitting down at your vanity, you put on a light amount of makeup before blow drying your hair to look “natural” as if you didn’t just spend an hour getting ready.
You start to get dressed as well, taking off your sweats first, when you hear a knock at your front door. Confused, you walk over and look out your peep hole. Oh god, of course the beautiful white haired man knew how to get into your building and just showed up at your door. You crack the door just a bit to stick your head out, embarrassingly saying, “Hey I’m sorry can you give me two seconds I don’t have pants on.”
Without waiting for his answer you close the door again and run back into your bedroom and put on the sweatpants you just took off as well as a light weight tank top that was laying on the bed next to it.
‘Did he really just show up to my door unannounced?’ You think to yourself reaching for your phone. It turns out he did respond earlier while you were in the shower, you just hadn’t looked until you picked up your phone right this second.
‘sounds good, what do you want to do this fine evening?’
You stared at the text, mouth opened, slightly resembling a fish out of water. At least you had gotten your hair and makeup done but it took you an hour of not texting him back. Rushing back to your front door you reopen it to him leaning against the wall on his phone playing a game.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh, cheeks flushed, swinging the door open for him to come in before stopping him in the doorway, “You’re not like a serial killer right?”
He throws his head back with a boyish laugh, meanwhile you just want an honest answer, you didn’t think your question was all that funny.
“No, I’m not,” he finally answers after noticing the apprehension in your face.
When you move to let the stranger inside your apartment, you throw caution to the wind and think, ‘well if I am going to die, at least it’ll be by this beautiful stranger?’ (damn reader, I think you would have LOVED Ted Bundy back in his day)
The man stands looking around your joint living room kitchen area, one hand in his pocket, one hand lifting his round black sunglasses from the bridge of his nose to on top of his head, resting among the snowy tufts of hair. He must have just got off an afternoon shift, smelling of Italian food wearing old jeans, a tshirt and converse.
Given it’s about 6 o���clock at this point, the sun has begun to set, setting golden hour aflame through your west facing windows of your apartment. The white walls glow orangish-yellow with tiny refractions from your little plants and decorations lining the windowsill, creating rainbows in random areas across the room. Your tv still hums in the background with a garbage show, before this potential murderer finally speaks up, as if he’s fully comprehended and assessed the room.
“The names Gojo, Satoru Gojo.” He smiles, only needing to take one of his large strides before he’s in front of you ready to shake your hand.
“Thank you for finally telling me your name,” you smirk, having to nearly crane your neck to make eye contact with him.
He wiggles his eyebrows and licks his lips before asking, “so no pizza but you wanted to hang out. What did you have in mind?”
“Well, I missed your text when I was in the shower so I haven’t put a lot of thought into it. We can go somewhere to grab a drink or do something or we can chill out here?” You try not to seem too bossy but not too submissive either, and by the looks of it Satoru is as confident as ever.
“Well the boss man gave me some free bottles of wine that I have in my car I can grab and we can watch some of whatever you have on, and maybe re-evaluate in a little if we want to do anything else?” He accentuates ‘anything’ with a wink and you swear your knees could give out.
“That sounds great.”
-
You make some popcorn and grab glasses of wine while Satoru goes to his car and grabs his duffle bag with wine and clean clothes and comes back inside.
“Sorry to ask, but can I take a quick shower? I kinda feel gross after an 8 hour shift.” A slight blush creeps across his cheeks while he pulls out four bottles of wine. He notices the shocked look on your face, “Oh sorry I didn’t know how much you drink so I just brought all 4 bottles he gave me, I figured we could have two each.”
“Two each?!” You laugh as he makes his way towards your bathroom. He smiles back at you before closing the door behind him. You stand up to head to the kitchen counter to uncork one of the wine bottles when you realize that the extra towels aren’t in your bathroom, they’re in the dryer right now! The last thing you need is a naked wet man in your apartment right? You grab and fold one of the towels quickly and hurry over the the bathroom door before knocking politely.
“Satoru?”, you question. “Sorry…I forgot to give you a towel earlier-”
You’re cut off by the door swinging open. The pale man’s almost completely naked save for his boxer briefs which he has no shame showing. You notice a scar across his chest, his perky man nipples, the defined pectoral and ab muscles atop his beautiful v-line, accentuated with a white happy trail running down the middle leading straight to… a bulge.
But like he wasn’t hard no, his soft penis must have been so large but even then he had a pretty big bulge. You wonder what it would look like when it’s -
“Well you answered the door with no pants earlier so I didn’t think it would be a problem here,” he cuts you off, smirking as he watches your embarrassed features. He totally just saw you checking him out, you feel no better than a man!! You hand him the towel before reaching over to close the bathroom door for him, walking wide eyed back over to the couch with a glass of white wine.
You can’t get the shape of his body out of your mind, god you can’t believe he was in there, using your shampoo and soaps and being naked while you’re right here on the couch, not able to witness it. You let the perverted thoughts take over your mind some, thinking about the way his pale skin would look covered in your nail scratches and bite marks. Or how about how perfect his cock must be? Everything else about him was absolutely gorgeous, so his cock has to be the perfect mixture of girth and length with a nice vein or two, and a cute pink tip leaking his precious pre cum right? You think back about his long deft fingers, and much better they’d feel inside you than your own. Being under the spell of your own horniness, you slip your left hand under the waist band of your sweat pants and lace panties thinking about this Satoru guy…slipping your tiny fingers around your swollen clit, giving it a pinch before sliding up and down your folds, collecting your wetness before slipping your middle finger in your tight hole. You close your eyes, slipping the throw blanket from the back of the couch over your lap as another layer of protection in case Satoru is quiet coming out of the bathroom, but he’s not a very quiet person so you’re not toooo concerned.
Although you’ve had intercourse fairly recently, you feel like you’re in the midst of a drought, a withdrawal from being touched. Your skin feels almost itchy, so aroused by this man even though today is the first time you’ve actually talked to him. You alternate playing with your folds and rubbing your clit thinking about how good he must look with the water running down his abs and through his glistening white hair. You think just maybe, you might have time to make yourself cum before he gets out of the shower. After all with how excited you are, it should just take a few minutes. You scurry from the couch to your bedroom gently shutting the door behind you, before throwing your pants off and reaching into your bedside drawer to grab your hot pink little vibrator to help hurry yourself along.
You think you can hear Satoru singing in the showering, making you sigh in relief a little knowing he still probably has another few minutes. Sticking your hand down your lace panties, you press up against your soaking hole area with your middle and ring fingers, while using your other hand to press the vibrator on and turning it up to the medium setting. You rock in and out of yourself at a steady rhythm, thinking about this man being on top of you. God, he just looks like one of those guys that is good at everything he does so you know he must be a great partner.
Letting go of yourself perhaps comes a bit too easy, laying your head back against your decorative pillows, letting out just a tiny whimper. Muffled whistling comes from the bathroom followed by what sounds like something squeaking. You think it’s the water shutting off, and proceed to panicking and switch the vibrator to high to finish while he’s drying off. You feel yourself getting close, reaching extra deep to find your own g-spot. Pushing against it your eyes immediately roll back and you feel yourself getting close to the edge. You do your best to bite down on your lip to keep noises from escaping, with both hands being other wise occupied.
Your thoughts return to the man in your bathroom, drying off, wondering if he’s gotten off to you in the shower right there, before getting a little sad because you wish he would let you take care of him! A particularly loud whimper escapes as your back arches off the bed, your legs threatening to shake violently.
“Y/n…?” Your bedroom door swings open, Satoru Gojo walking in right as you reach your peak. Your jaw drops half out of ecstasy and half embarrassment, closing your eyes and riding out the last few seconds of your orgasm. There’s no point trying to hide or make excuses, you got caught. Not only that, but Gojo’s jaw is also on the floor, the blood rushing to his lower region as he is still slightly moist from the shower but only wearing a new clean pair of boxer briefs.
“I’m - so - sorry -” you pant to him with your eyes still closed, slowly removing your fingers from inside you and turning the vibrating off.
“Fuckkkk, that was so hot!! ,” Satoru wines striding over to join you on your bed. He takes the fingers you were about to your juices off of and pops them in his mouth, staring you in the eyes as he swirls his tongue around your petite digits and groaning in pleasure. “I can’t believe you couldn’t wait for me! Naughty girl, I just - wow- you’re so wet??” Satoru stammers to you, leaning his large frame over your body, blush creeping across his cheeks, but you know your face is even more red.
You sit up and lean back from Gojo, “sorry that was an..accident. You weren’t supposed to see that uh, um, I have a medical condition!! And I have to - you see…,” your embarrassment just digging you deeper into a hole as you reach for your panties and sweatpants on the other side of the bed. It’s not that Satoru seems to mind though, he actually seems kind of impressed.
As you slip your panties on, he sits on the bed giving you space but wraps his arm around your waist, “Hey..y/n… you don’t have to make up a really shitty excuse or anything, I kinda thought it was hot. Like if you want to fuck me you could just say it?” He says almost cockily trying to lighten your mood.
“I’m sorry I just like it’s not lady like? And I didn’t even like go on a date with you or anything yet…not that we have to go on a date first! I just like met you today and I feel like really bad!” You ramble on, both of your heads leaning closer and closer as he strokes your hair to calm you down. He gently guides your head to rest on his shoulder, “don’t be embarrassed babe, it’s not like I haven’t heard you have sex before.”
Your head shoots up, a new wave of embarrassment coursing through you. “Huh - what do you mean?” You stutter out.
“You realize right under your cute little room is the office in the back of the restaurant…right? And the nights when I’m in charge after the old man goes home…let’s just say some of the men you’ve brought home don’t seem to have good rhythm.”
Your jaw drops at this revelation, immediately growing defensive. “And who’s to say your rhythm is better? Besides - I -”
You’re cut off by Satoru taking the lead, his finger up to your bottom lip as to get you to quit nervous mumbling. “Hush hunny, just let me prove it to you.” He gently pushes you back against your bed, his lips finding yours before you can protest. You give in to making out with his cute pink lips, he guides a hand to the back of your neck, taking power over the kiss. You nip at his bottom lip at which he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, pushing his tongue into your mouth. His other hand comes to grab at your chest through your sports bra as you grab the sides of his face with passion. He breaks the kiss just by an inch, enough to breathlessly ask, “you’re okay with this right?”
Satoru smirks, knowing he has you in the palm of his hand. Instead of answering, you kiss back, this time taking initiative to swirl your tongue with his. The heated make out section reaches a tipping point as Satoru leans more of his body weight against yours, now your pelvic regions touching. His harder member through his boxers rubbing against your soaked lace panties. The fabric on fabric contact in the sensitive region has you whimpering into his mouth.
“Oh sweetheart,” he says with fake sympathy, “I already have you whimpering and I’ve barely touched you.” You roll your eyes as he uses his long fingers to brush the hair away from your neck ghosting his lips leaving a fraction of a kiss from your jawline down to collarbone. His breathing against your skin makes goosebumps form, before licking a specific spot halfway down your neck, right next to your jugular. He sucks down, ripping another whimper from you, rolling your hips up to cause more friction against his erection.
He smirks against your skin, “I think I found your sensitive spot-” and you cut him off pushing him back up to attach his lips to your neck again. You moan a little more freely this time.
“Uhnnnn, Satoruuuu…please, I need more!”
You whine removing your hands from his hair and creeping down his muscular back, feeling every single defined muscle. You decide to have a little fun, scratching a little harder as you run your hands down before grabbing the waistband of his boxers. “Off,” you whisper and this time he moans, seeming just as affected by you as you are by him.
He sits up to take off his boxers and you take the opportunity to remove your panties again, and your bra this time. You swear Satoru’s pupils turn into hearts when he sees your chest.
“Oh my god I think I’m in love,” he whispers, before leaning in fast and attaching his mouth to the right nipple. He used a lot of tongue and a little teeth, making your buds feel so much better than you ever thought possible. As he switches to your other nipple your eyes roll back.
You reach down through your legs to start stroking Satoru’s hard member. Although you can’t see it with the way his body is situated you can tell it’s massive. Like barely can wrap your hand around it massive and when you go up and down there’s sooo much!
“Can I fuck you please?” Satoru looks up at you with lust filled eyes, a sheen covering his lips and your nipples. He looks like what you could only imagine as a milk drunk baby looking up at its mother.
“Please, Satoru, fuck me,” you respond, running your thumb over his tip and spreading the precum. He leans back to line himself up, and now you can see the full image. The muscular upper body, now littered with a few scratches from you. The snowy fully hair, his eyes blown out with lust looking like he could devour you whole. Plus that beautiful cock you got yourself off to not even 15 minutes prior. It’s just as amazing as the one you made up in your head thinking about him.
You bite your lip and smile as his tip touches your entrance, him squeezing your hip with one hand as the other grips his base. He pushes in slowly and gently, letting you adjust with gentle shallow thrusts until you’re able to manage. “Oh-ohhh my god,” his breathing hitches in his throat? “Oh my GOD you feel so fucking good!” He is acting like he has just won the lottery, taking his time with his thrusts.
You smile up at him as he holds your leg, calf up against your shoulder. He places a tiny kiss along your leg before grabbing your other leg and placing it on his his other shoulder.
“Baby, can I please show you my rhythm now?” Satoru practically begs.
“Mhmmm, please,” you moan, already feeling full to the brim with his cock but needing more pleasure. He excelerates slowly, snapping his hips with high intensity. You feel his skinny hip bones make contact with the back of your legs every time, along with the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your lower region. You’re in love with his little babbles, you’ve never met a more vocal man in bed. Every few seconds he’s saying “fuck yeah baby,” or a grunt/moan, throwing his head back, or “shit y/n”
Your toes start to curl and he notices, along with the slight tremble growing in your legs.
“You close baby?” He stammers out lowering one hand to stroke your cheek lovingly.
“Yes -toru,” you stammer out, only able to get half of his name out with how out of breath and white hot you feel. His eyes roll back in pleasure at the nickname, moving the hand that was on your cheek down to your clit, rubbing tiny circles on the puffy mound to help bring you over the edge.
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You half moan half chant, barely having possession over your own body at this point.
“C’mon, let go for me y/n, please pretty girl go on and cum,” the combination of Satoru’s words and how he says your name sends you over the edge, pulsing around him, eyes rolled back gripping white knuckled on the sheets.
Seeing how pretty you looked cumming on his cock, Satoru is so close to follow, not even caring that his cum his going inside you (I mean hey you didn’t tell him not to?) he grips your sides as he lets go, a grip that you know will leave 10 little perfect oval bruises tomorrow. All he manages is grunts that border whimpers “so so good, fuck,” he says out of breath, laying down comfortably with you with his cock still in side and giving you both a moment to process what just happened.
“You proved me wrong,” you whisper and he looks at you confused. “That was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had, I don’t fucking care about rhythm or any other man at this point,” you continue, covering your face with your hands and giggling.
He chuckles along with you, “I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever gotten, I maybe should get an award for ‘sex dick given to y/n’”
You giggle more, both of you in your post orgasm mood, just being silly and romantically pillow talking.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” satoru says after a few more minutes of banter, and before you and even go to sit up, he is too fast and picks you up bridal style to carry to the bathroom. He sits you on the toilet and lets you clean yourself as he gets a washcloth with cold water and washes his face, before washing off his now flaccid penis (which still looked good which is really fucking hard to do). Upon returning to your bedroom, putting on clothes again and regaining your composure, you watch Gojo going through your closet.
You tilt your head at him and he answers before you can say a word. “Listen I know this is like the opposite of gender norms but can I borrow a tshirt?” You giggle and show him where you keep them and let him pick.
You settle out in the living room with your glass of wine, bowl of popcorn, and a blanket, resuming your prior plans. He joins you a few seconds later, wearing an old tshirt from high school that has one of the United States presidents on it in a rocking chair that says “JFK ROCKS”
You bust out laughing, not only at that fact it was almost a little too short on him, but also you had no idea where that shirt was or how he found it. He laughs along with you, opening one of the other bottles of wine.
He sits on the other end of the couch so both of your legs are all tangled and cozy , covered by your blanket. “So,” he then takes a bite of popcorn, creating an awkward pause.
You decide to interject first, “I’m sorry that like you saw me getting myself off and that I had sex with you like right after meeting you… you probably think I’m a slut but I’d actually like to get to know you.” You blush and take a sip of wine as he looks like a crazy person, before repeating himself.
“So,” he starts, “what I was going to say is that we need to get some real food and stop at the store and get a plan b, then come back for round 2,” he sips his wine, “also you’re not a slut and even if you are I’m a slut so oh well,” another tiny sip of wine and popcorn, “so this is me doing things a little backwards. Would you be my date for this evening?”
“You’re asking me on a date?” You gawk at him on accident, just surprised with how this whole day turned out.
“Yes I am sweets, now go get a jacket.”
—
very sorry anon February was a rough month (and so is March) for me this has been in my drafts 4ever
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo brainrot#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk x reader smut#pizza boy gojo
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Anime Convention (feat. someone real). Part II
Self-Aware! Akiko Yosano x GN! Reader
Description: "Don't tell doctor about your problems" have the same vibe as "Call cleaning company only after you made your house spotless". However, in your current situation it's more of a "Don't make your friend even more worried about you".
One last "gift" from your former colleagues left an injury. Yosano treats your wounds. You try to play dumb while she is doing it.
Despite her sadistic traits, Akiko Yosano can be empathetic. She wants to be someone you can rely on. Besides, she is curious about you. Perhaps, you won't be against of having a small talk?
Warning: OOC. English is my second language. Reader have low self-esteem. Reader don't think that they worth to be loved. Reader want to have friends but afraid of rejection. Injuries (bruises and big cuts from glass). Emotional abuse from parent
<| Interlude №1 |
_________
Albatross' motorcycle stopped before the mansion. BSD Cast and your new home.
Three cars, with the rest of the Flags, parked not far away from you.
You remove the helmet and gave it back to Albatross. He tried to give you a reassuring smile. You tried to smile back, but your smile was small, hollow and tried.
You still can taste your favorite ice cream flavor. You were mostly silent during the trip for an ice cream, but, you hopped, that you didn't ruin Flags' mood. You were trying to stay positive. But one's mind can be a cruel force.
During the trip to the ice cream parlor, you tried not to think about the situation you were in.
You were jobless. And right now you have no way to get another job. For a town with a big university, there weren't enough options for a student to get a part-time job here. Especially during summer, when most of the students return home and employers were skeptical about hiring students, who decided to stay in town.
You have no way to pay rent. Well, you have some savings, but you really didn't want to spend them. And your rent was high. After you begged your previous landlord to let you keep an apartment (without you living there, but paying higher rent), he was adamant about the time you pay rent. If earlier, he could let you pay a week or two later, but now you should pay the exact day each month.
you need this apartment. if when if when if when BSD Cast left you, you will be alone again. you will need a place to go.
You were so tired. Not only because of what was happening in university. Because of studies, because of years staying far from home. Because of high school years. Because of your future.
You wanted life to be easy again.
You automatically followed after Flags and come inside the house.
Home sweet home.
__________
The mansion was a multiply-floor house with many bedrooms, attic, basement and with a big yard with a barn, playground and picnic tables. Fitzgerald also promised, that there will be a pool in a future. And Kenji wanted to get some farm animals and plant some vegetables.
You had no idea, how in the world Fitzgerald managed to get this place. You weren't questioning, how he got it. You saw documents from the bank about Fitzgerald's and The Guild members' accounts. You were too scared of looking at the accounts of the rest of BSD Cast.
You were still getting used to living in the mansion. All this people, all this space.
you were grateful, that you weren't alone here
_______
Flags and you were greeted by unamused Mori. Port Mafia Boss crossed arms on his chest, tapping his foot against the floor.
It was strange to see Mori without his normal attire (and you meant both "Port Mafia Boss" and "Underground Doctor" versions), but, you have to admit, that he looked good in his light green shirt and black jeans.
Mori glared at the Flags, before looking at you, his eyes immediately soften.
"Welcome home, My Sweet Bean. How your day has been doing?"
You felt your cheeks burning. One day, this nicknames will get you.
you like them. friends have nicknames for each other. as long as friendship lives the nicknames will live on...
when if when if when if they left you, will someone else have a nickname for you? or will your nicknames disappear forever
You ignored the thoughts and slightly nodded.
"Hello, Mori. Day has been doing... interesting"
It was true. You practically witness a bar fight... Without "bar", but "café fight" sounds lame.
Mori sent another glare towards Flags, coming closer towards you. None of the Flags looked guilty. Piano Man especially looked like he was ready to shut down every word of accusation that will come from Mori.
Of course, it doesn't affect Mori in any way.
"Yes. I do think that it was interesting. Especially after what my subordinates did, and how it has affected you."
The atmosphere became tense. Mori took a step towards Flags.
Cold claws of guilt and shame sank into your heart. Without second thought, you grabbed Mori's hand.
"No, Mori, please, it is my fault. I should have been better. I am sorry."
Mori coughed and looked at you with a shocked expression. You also felt the five pair of eyes on the back of your head, staring in dumbfounded silence.
you managed to shock Port Mafia Boss. and Flags... yay? will you get an achievement?
Mori opened and closed his mouth. He looked like a fish out of water.
"In what way it's your fault? In what way you should have been better?" finally managed to ask Mori.
Still acting on your emotions, you answered.
"Because if I were a better person, I won't be harassed."
_________
You were sniffing. A fresh big bruise on your arm looked ugly. Your father's steel voice rang into your ears.
"Stop whining. Stop playing a victim. No one else is being bullied. They only bother you. You know, what it means?"
Your father was waiting for an answer. You gulped and try to hold back tears.
"It means that I am the problem. I should have been better. To get good grades. To go to university."
Your father nodded.
"Right, [Y/N]. You should have been better. A better person, a better student. A better child. Because, in days like this..." Father scoffed. "I am ashamed of being your father. So makes me want to be your dad."
____________
Your memories were interrupted by another voice. The door leading to the basement opened and Ayatsuji step into the main hallway.
"Hello, [Y/N]. Are you alright?"
You mindlessly nodded. Mori and Flags, however, looked concerned.
you are terrible. you made them worried about you.. it's your fault. your fault.
Ayatsuji stepped between you and Mori.
"Is everything alright?"
You were grateful for Ayatsuji's intervention. You bit your lip and nodded again.
"Yes..."
You didn't notice the strange glances Flags, Mori and Ayatsuji send towards each other. You stepped from one leg to another. And felt something heavy in your backpack. You completely forgot!
can you be even more of a klutz?
You took off your backpack.
"Hey, Ayatsuji, I get the book you asked for from the library."
Without looking, you put your hand into your backpack, trying to get the book. A sharp pain pierce through your palm. You yelled, your backpack fell on the floor. With first drops of blood. The book fell from the backpack.
A big, bloodied shard of glass was stuck between book's pages. It seems, one of your former colleagues left it here.
To hurt you.
The hell broke loose.
Ayatsuji dashed back to the basement, Iceman, Piano Man and Doc were searching for the first aid kit, Albatross and Lippmann were trying to pick up your fallen things.
One of Mori's hand carefully took your injured palm, pressing a handkerchief over your wounds.
"Don't worry, [Y/N], it's going to be fine."
Then Ayatsuji reappeared with Yosano in tow. ADA Doctor immediately got near you, gently leading you to the basement. On her way, she took the damn book from Albatross's hands.
"I will take it from here. Let's go down to the infirmary, [Y/N]."
You followed after Yosano.
___________
The infirmary was quite big. Big enough to have an operation room, in addition to classic doctor office.
You were sitting in the office part, while Yosano were applying balm and bandaging your palm.
You were looking at the wall. You didn't want to think about what happened, what will happen. You didn't want to think about rumors, about your insecurities.
You just wanted to have something stable in your life.
The rest of the day will be terrible.
🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺
Yosano was worried about you. And injury wasn't the main reason for her concerns.
Your behavior was concerning.
She remembered, when, back in their old world, she heard you talking to yourself about different topics.
About books, nature, last news.
You were interesting. And each time you started to talk about something, Little Light was glowing, almost purring.
You were happy.
And what she saw now...
They held the first meeting few days after they moved into the mansion.
It was clear, that something was strange with you.
Kajii said that you were shy.
Katai said that you need more time to get used to them.
But Koyou's whispered "abuse".
Yosano hated, that it's probably were the truth.
She doubted, that you were hit. But, abuse came in many forms.
And Yosano already hated everyone who put you through it.
She wanted to ask outright. She wasn't the only one.
Natsume Soseki stopped them.
"Let's not rush. Let's be patient. Just, show them that we care. Tell them, how valid their feelings and decisions are. How interesting they are. How happy we have them in our lives. Let's show them, that they deserve to be loved."
Valid decisions...
Maybe, before that, she could pry for a bit?
🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺🩺
"Do you like going to the university?" Yosano's question came out of nowhere. You blinked and turned away from staring at the wall to look at Yosano. She finished bandaging your palm and was putting bandage and balm away. You tilted your head.
"Of course, I always wanted to go to the university." you were telling the truth. University means opportunities! University means getting a good job! University means new frie-
let's not think about that for now...
Yosano shook her head.
"Sorry, I guess, I should have elaborated. Do you like to attend your current university, with your current fellow students?"
You looked down. You didn't want to answer this question. Because your answer will make you feel bad.
"Yes, I am... I am getting a good degree..." you whispered. Yosano's eyes and small smile were warm. You tried not to cry.
"I know, that degree is not only good. You also like getting it. You are making your dream come true. But, what about other parts of student life? Parties? Clubs?"
You slightly bit your tongue.
Your university doesn't have clubs or any other means of after class activities. Well, there were few spots teams, but, you were never a sporty type. And you didn't like parties.
Outside the classes you were by yourself. Always by yourself.
forever by yourself
you could have chosen a different university. maybe, in your hometown? but you ran away.
you were an ungrateful brat, who were running away from responsibility...
Yosano put a hand on your shoulder.
"What I mean, [Y/N], I am... We are worried about you. Other students... A bunch of animals. They dared to harass you. To hurt you..."
She glared at the bloodied shard of glass in the trash can.
Yosano stay silent for a moment. Then spoke, carefully choosing next words.
"[Y/N]... I won't ask you why you were silent. I won't pry. But, if you want to talk... I can listen to you. We are friends, right?"
She looked worried about you. She looked kid. Honest. Like she really means, that she is your friend.
if only you could convince yourself about it
please... please don't give me hope... please... i... i am too blank... too stupid...
Your stomach rumbles. You and Yosano blinked, then Yosano's smile returned to her face.
"Sorry, you must have been too hungry to have a small talk right now. Let's go to the dining room."
Yosano took your undamaged hand and pull, making you follow her.
"Thank you for the help, Yosano." mumbled you.
you are an idiot. if you looked into the backpack, you would see the shard of glass. it's your fault for being injured. it's your fault for making Yosano, Ayatsuji, Flags and Mori worried...
"No problems. Thank you, Dear Dango."
You didn't see Yosano's face, but you can feel a smile in her voice.
"For what?" you didn't understand, why Yosano was thanking you.
"For being you. For being in my life. For being near. For being yourself. For having feelings. For having opinion. For having interest. And..." Yosano finally looked at you. "For existing and for being born."
Your face was on fire.
A big smile appeared on your face.
You weren't listening to a faint whispers of
she is lying, no one could be thankful for you, you are worthless
You were too happy right now.
The Beast if Insecurities left. For now.
Right now, at this moment...
You were happy. And you had confidence.
You have trust in Yosano's words.
Perhaps, the rest of the day won't be too bad.
#self-awarebsd#self-awareau#bungou stray dogs au#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd anime#bsd x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#Self-Aware Akiko Yosano#akiko yosano x reader#bsd yosano
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The conversation went like this: general pleasantries followed by her being like I'm so relieved you reached out to me because I really just want to have a more positive relationship with all of you guys and I know how annoying it is when a landlord isn't able to deal with things in a timely manner I get it I'm a renter too... i get the sense that, just as i had over-prepared for the conversation, she had over-prepared to apologize for the fact that the basement bathroom has a recurring leak issues that get patched up and then continue to cause issues meanwhile she's literally going through a divorce and has to keep postponing because she wants to be there when the repair dudes come to make sure they're doing their job properly but she has a big trial coming up and had to put it off by another week, it's really no big deal tbh... I assured her that she's been doing a fantastic job at staying on top of things and communicating with us oh my fucking god okay new girl is banging that fugly creepy white boy she keeps bringing over so god damn loud l cant wait for her to gtfo anyways yeah so we basically just spent 10 minutes getting on the same page like we good we good she just wants to make sure that everyone is chill in the house and we had a really good talk about what we all want from this but TLDR once we got down to business it went like this:
Me: Pins Girl is the problem
Her: omg slay I fucking hate her please go on
Me: yaaaas she fucking sucks here's some tea sis....
Her: ok work so I'm not crazy for being like maddd uncomfortable around her like one time this thing happened...
Me: omg lol no seriously she's vile here's another wild example related to your anecdote....
Her: no way bestie she did that to me too. Just 0 to 100 in an instant I didnt even know what to do just being accused of every -ism under the sun
Me: yeah no that's just kind of how things go with her you cant get so much as an innocent Hello in without her immediately labeling it a hostile attack
Her: yas okay good riddance so what's the deal with this new girl she's her friend should I be concerned
Me: oh girl.......... so, no not really she's a sweetheart and also– thank god– fully employed. Absolutelyyy messy as hell tho so that's one of my biggest concerns. I think it would be best if you didn't add her to the lease no shade but she's really not a great fit since we're all older and chill and clean af
Her: ...and the rest of the concerns? Oh my god do you think [PG] will try to move back in if we decline her friend???
Me: no wayy she wants OUT out she's already got a new place lined up and her shit in boxes at the door waiting to be hauled off forever
Her: omg like. Far? Like is she moving far? Please tell me she's moving sooo far
Me: yes lmao dont even worry I dont know the exacts but it's nowhere even near here
Her: okay slayyyyy thank you for being dope as hell it's such a relief that this crazy person is gone so we can all just chilllll
Me: okay so about that
Her: ohhh no
Me: yes so you already know what we're dealing with. You know how she deemed me unworthy of being on speaking terms with her? I didn't mind that at all and really just kept tf to myself. Then suddenly she moves in this friend of hers and I just assumed this was done with some sort of approval from you, because that would be the normal thing to do.
Her: okay that's kind of wack, do you guys not like get a vote on these sorts of things
Me: I stayed out of it plus like I'm really not gonna start questioning her and risk putting myself in the line of fire and everyone is pretty much in that position as well
Her: omg no fr...
Me: so like I just kept to myself and my work without thinking about it... then I find out she was living here totally off the record when PG sent that email requesting that she be added to the lease. That's when the conversation opened up. And listen this new girl is super young super naive didnt realize that she was even doing anything wrong and then suddenly everyone's totally freaking out and realizing that this goes against the lease agreement and that if you find out, our ability to live here is jeopardized. She got us into hot water and then just... left us to deal with the consequences.
Her: she's still legally bound by the lease until it changes so if anything goes wrong she wont be escaping accountability no matter how many -isms she throws at me. I want this to work for all of us and we got this trust thang between us and I wouldn't evict you guys omg evictions are seriously sooo annoying and *most* of you have been great tenants especially (names everyone except for the unemployed ftm) they're all super chill and mature and we've had great conversations so yeah I'm just glad she's gone
Me: incredible yaas I love honesty. She has been actively impeding our ability to have a productive working relationship with you and each other it's so crazy
Her: literallyyyy😁🥂🔥yipeee
Me: yippee yaaaaay yay 😇☝️💯
Her: okay so my game plan is to interview the new girl irl like no zoom bs I really wanna read her vibes and decide if this is worth it... I'll give her a chance but if that doesn't work out... I mean... tee hee..... the yearly house inspection is coming up...
Me: ok that's so dope. She's gonna be moving upstairs once PG vacates so its gonna be pretty hard to hide the fact someone's right there even just doing a quick walk-through
Her: yeah so if things don't go well and I decide against putting her on the lease and they still don't admit to having her there then at least I can talk to them about it when the inspection happens and be chill about it and pretend like I totally had no idea. We can work something out as long as everything is good you know what I mean... okay if you need anything at all dont even hesitate to give me a call
Me: absolutely and if I have any updates I'll let you know ASAP, lmk if you need anything srsly I dont want to cause you any more stress like from what i understand you've had a stressful enough year
Her: yes good lord i have, thank you for being considerate..... seriously it's been hellish and this conversation has been such a relief
etc etc obviously the conversation was longer and more thorough but you get the gist. She's awesome. We hung up and I skipped my way to the grocery store
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small city, small problems // (eventual) dean winchester x reader
summary: you move to lebanon kansas and have two run-ins eith the winchester boys. in one, you’re awesome, in the other… well…
warnings: violence, blood, swearing
word count: 1343
author’s note: requests/asks open & encouraged!
hunting was your job but it didn’t pay the bills. no, that was taken care of by the numerous scams you ran. monster slayer by day (who would willingly go after those freaks in the dark? thinking about it made you shiver) and door to door salesman, telemarketer, pyramid-schemer by night. credit card scams and fake identities had stopped helping you the minute you decided to settle down. now, going by your actual name for the first time in what felt like forever, you house hunted too.
small city, small problems, you thought, settling on lebanon, kansas. you found a duplex for $700 a month and moved all of your belongings in--it took hardly any time because your entire life could fit in the box of your truck. none of it was damp or damaged thanks to the tonneau cover you splurged on.
neighbors could be difficult to deal with but yours seemed unassuming enough. the landlord had described them as an older couple that kept to themselves and that sounded better than rooming with five college students or staying in a rundown motel. you just hoped they wouldn’t notice the blood caked under your nails when you checked the mailbox, or the various injuries you always had when you walked to and from your truck.
you were sitting on the floor, both legs stuck out in front of you, and dozens of newspaper clippings in between them. you planned on taking a break from hunting but when you were in the life and aware of the creatures that go bump in the night, these things tended to fall right into your lap. missing people--this many--in such a small town was never innocent. nor were the all black eyes you made contact with on your way back from the supermarket. a demon problem you could handle but it didn’t quite explain the missing people. It was fine, you would figure it out.
a fist slams against the door in an aggressive manner, one that far too many policemen used for you to be comfortable with. you lift the corner of your mattress and swipe the information you’d found under it. you hide any evidence of your wrongdoings and stuff your phone into your pants pocket. then you pulled open the door. two men stand, wearing suits and presenting badges. you look at the badges first--agent figsbottom and dave. you snort and your hand moves over your mouth quickly as you try (and fail) to stifle laughter. the taller man frowned and his brother’s eyes narrow. “come on in, boys.”
the winchester brothers are confused. this isn’t the level of respect they were used to receiving when posing as federal agents. the thing is, you knew them. well, knew of them. dean and sam winchester were pretty famous in the hunting community so no, you weren’t about to play concerned citizen even though… well, you were concerned. the hell were they on your doorstep for?
“we have some questions for you miss,” dean says. he flashes you a smile along with his badge and sam shoots him an irritated look, placing a hand on his shoulder and shoving subtly. “have you seen either of these people? samantha and owen have--”
you hadn’t seen them anywhere else but on the newspaper. you lift the corner of your mattress and pull out the papers. “they’ve been missing for just over a week. you should be looking for these two if you want a rescue mission and not a recovery one.” you tap your hand against another couple's photo and sam’s eyebrows raise. “i’m a hunter too. just moved into the area. y/n l/n, nice to meet you.”
dean shakes your hand and you tighten your grip in challenge. the two of you stand, staring at each other and aggressively shaking hands until sam’s laughter interrupts your brief pissing contest.
“i’m sam,”
“and your dean,” you look at the shorter brother, right into his green eyes as he nods. “your reputations precede you.”
“all good things i hope?”
you laugh and give a small shake of your head. “so, the case. what do you guys know that I don’t?”
“no offense sweetheart but we don’t need any extra help. you and your partner can pick another town and another monster.” dean says.
you scoff. “no. first of all, i live here now, and secondly, i’m on my own. no partner needed.”
“you hunt alone? that’s a death sentence.”
“death is the only thing certain in life though you and your brother toe the line often--anyways, i’m not phased by it. hell or heaven, they’ll be lucky to have me.” neither of the boys have anything to say to that. sam keeps trying to angle his head just so, wanting to see all of the pages you’ve compiled and dean is staring straight at you, saying nothing. you clap your hands together, breaking up the silence. “want to compare notes or are you going to get the hell out of my house?”
neither winchester wanted to compare notes and so, you chased them out with various threats of violence. the eldest one had the gall to smirk and shout “goodluck!” before climbing into his beautiful ‘67 chevy impala.
—
the next time you see the brothers you’re in mortal danger. you're tied to a chair and bleeding all over the place--head swimming in regret and your own mistakes. if you were conscious enough to be embarrassed you would be. your neighbors, the sweet and unassuming old couple were actually long gone. dead and rotting. a pair of ghouls were wearing their bodies like meat suits and the gardening the old lady did every day like clockwork was her burying bones. they nabbed you while you were sleeping and you were a good fighter but with your limbs still heavy with exhaustion, were no match.
the rope was tight around you and it was stained crimson. they were taking turns biting off chunks of your flesh when the front door was kicked in and you could barely lift your head to see which brother had managed to break the door in just one go-- “impressive,” you acknowledged weakly. there was a struggle. you heard it but couldn’t track it with your eyes, not as they blurred and unfocused.
then you were being untied. you fell forwards and into strong arms. “hey. sweetheart, going to need you to stay conscious, yeah? not going to let a few ghouls be your end are ya?”
you shake your head ‘no’, and fight to keep your eyes open. “sammy!” dean shouts. “we need to get this bleeding stopped.” you’re passed to the taller winchester who puts pressure on the worst bite. dean starts talking to himself or his imaginary friend, cas. “cas you feathered fuck, hurry up!” he shouts to the sky and a moment later there's a ‘whoosh’ and a new hand is on you--on your forehead. light erupts but you only see white.
when you wake up you’re in a bed that isn’t your own--in a room that isn’t yours but that smells like leather, firewood, and vanilla? your face crinkles in confusion and you haul yourself into a sitting position, groaning. then, you notice the eldest winchester, dean, sitting in a chair across the room. he scoots closer to you looking you over to make sure that you’re alright.
“sorry about that,” you apologize. “can i, uh… is there anything i can do for you, your brother and… the angel?” you’re still unsure about that one, but hate owing people (or magical beings) more than you could ever articulate. “to repay you all for…”
“for saving your ass? yeah. there is.”
“okay…?” you’re hesitant.
“if you insist on hunting, don’t do it alone. not ever again. you can stick with us or go off on your own, but the second you find a case, you call me.” you agree easily. you’re alive and he isn’t making you clean toilets or sell your soul, he’s offering to help you.
you exchange numbers and then you’re off. you’ll keep your promise. probably…
#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel#supernatural#supernatural x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader
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No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Current Chapter
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
-------------------------------------
^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name :)
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Chapter 3: Out Of Touch (with reality hoes)
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“Miles!”
Hovering over Miles, surrounded by a sea of colour and light, was Gwen Stacy. That Gwen Stacy. How many months has it been since he’d last seen her? That didn’t matter; she was here now, in his room…opening his collective figures. Miles wanted nothing more but to leave. To jump out his window and swing freely with Gwen. Like old times. There was only one problem though…
“I’m… grounded.”
Miles winced. A pregnant pause, until he couldn’t stop the wince on his face from transforming into a grin after he’d heard the teens' response.
“Bummer - is Spiderman grounded?”
———————————————-
“So you’re telling me there’s an elite society with all the best spider-people in it?”
Miles swung behind Gwen, an expression of bewilderment behind his mask as his companion rambled about the society.
“-And Hobie,”
“Who’s Hobie?”
“- he lets me crash in his dimension sometimes,”
“L-like you stay the night?”
At the mention of the name a pang of jealousy flashed through Miles. He never knew she was-all of them were-seeing eachother all this time. While he spent it…alone.
“-Oh and there’s this Lady- Jessica Drew, she rides motorcycles, oh my gosh, I’m leaning so much from her-“
“Oh yeah? I-I’ve learned a lot of new stuff too, I leveled up my whole thing, see?”
Half showing off(and half to rid himself of the growing feeling of envy in his chest), Miles mimicked the graceful flipping style of Gwen Stacy, weaving through narrow gaps in traffic and hanging himself by the ankle. Now behind him, he heard a slight giggle.
“Look at you!”
There it was. That feeling he was so jealous of earlier. From Gwen, from the Spider-society, from The Black Cat. It pooled in his stomach and filled his chest, bursting out his seams in the form of an uncontrollable toothy grin and a giggle back. He felt it. Freedom.
“Look at me!”
—————————————
You were sat atop the roof of your apartment complex, chin resting on your knees. Purring was heard faintly as one of your cats rubbed its side against you, pulling you out of your deep state of pensiveness you had dug yourself into moments prior. You smiled softly as you scratched at the cat. Your smile faded however, as you replayed for the umpteenth time that evening, your conversation with Spider-man.
“Sometimes I just wish things were different, yknow?”
“Different how?”
“Different like, for me.”
“There’s a first time for everything, right?”
You scoffed before sighing deeply. He just didn’t get it, did he? Guess you can’t blame him too much though, if he knew why you did what you did it would practically be the same as ripping off your mask and turning yourself in. Huffing once more, you pushed yourself to stand on the roof. The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment you realized how long it had been since you took the time to really look at the sunset. It was calm, it was serene, it was-
buzz
A text. Your landlord. Again. Rent was coming up, and you were short last week-pushing all missed fees to this week. Great.
It was at this moment you realized exactly why it had been so long since you took the time to really look at the sunset. Turning away from the painted sky, you collected your feline companions and trudged your way down to your room.
Rummaging through your closet you made it to a makeshift safe designed for the keeping of any valuable items you had seized. Cracking it open with eyes closed and fingers crossed-
It was empty. Great.
You let out a lengthy groan, shifting your weight back to lay on your floor. You hadn’t gone out heist-ing since the incident with Spot. Rolling over on your side, you were met with two bright, wide, yellow eyes, and a large tuft of black fur in your face. As if on cue, the large tuft of fur nuzzled your face before dropping a black leather mask before you. Your black leather mask.
A silent beat passed as you stared at the mask on the ground. Sighing once more, you picked up the mask, your words to Spider-man ringing behind your ears.
“The Cat and The Spider. We can’t truly change who or where we are. No matter…how much we want to.”
Now fully suited, you headed your way towards your window, looking back at your fluffy black friend.
“Thanks, kitty”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sun was setting now, the sky blue with tints of pink, orange, and yellow. It was at this moment Gwen realized how long it had been since she took the time to really look at the sunset. Miles smiles, a lighthearted feeling in his chest. Sitting on the underside of this secluded ledge, Miles relished in the serene feeling that enveloped the two of them. In this moment, looking out into the city, the two young heroes felt like they were the only ones in the entire universe. They were alone, together. It was nice.
“ In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-Man.”
At the sound of Gwen’s voice, Miles turned his head. As she finished her sentence, his lips curved into a soft smile, and he found himself subconsciously leaning into her. Looking up at her, he blinked as he noticed how Gwen returned the smile, but held a tensed, tight-lipped expression behind it. Before he could comment, she parted her lips to speak.
“… And in every other universe, it doesn’t… end well.”
Miles flinched as he processed Gwen's words, opting to shift his body away from her. All of a sudden, his mind was swarmed with memories from his earlier interaction with his feline counterpart. Looking once again into Gwen‘s eyes, Miles took note that The Cat held the same pained expression she displayed now. Before he can even begin to think of a response, Miles' mouth began to move.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, right?”
Miles’ chest was beating wildly now. He had expected Gwen to run away – to block him out like The Black Cat had done moments prior. But the warm pressure he felt pressing against his shoulder spoke differently. Like he did with the thief, Miles sighed deeply. This time, with a content smile across his face.
———————————————————-
It was night time now, and you were on the prowl – grappling around for the perfect opportunity to strike, when you stumbled across the most peculiar thing.
You assumed it was an abandoned building, but you’ve seen a handful of those, this one was different. It had been almost turned inside out, pieces of itself sticking out of… itself? And –
“Is that…glitching?”
Whatever what was going on, one thing for sure, this whole situation felt eerily familiar to you. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was all Spots doing.
Shit.
No way was he about to steal another gig from you.
On tipped-toes, you made your way into the wrecked building, when suddenly you were tugged by an invisible force. Literally.
“GH-“
Before you could continue screaming, the invisible force held you close and slapped its hand across your mouth.
“What are you doing?” The voice whisper-shouted.
Spider-Man. Invisibility, huh? Cool.
Squirming free from his grip, he tried your best to glare in the direction of the voice.
“Um, what are you doing?” You whisper-shouted back.
“Cat!”
“I couldn’t help myself! I was curious…”
“Yeah, I hear that’s bad for cats-”
“No nononononononononoNO!”
The two of you flinch to the sound of this new, distressed voice. While Miles remained invisible, you quickly ducked behind a support beam, squinting at the source of the sound.
In front of you holding an extremely panicked expression behind their mask, was another… another Spider-person?
Just when your curiosity couldn’t have been piqued any further, this new Spider-person, from what looked like to be a watch(a super bad-ass watch, you might add), began to play a projection of-you called it, The Spot.
Rambling erratically about some sciencey-shit you’d maybe understand if you paid more attention in physics, you watched as the hologram of the spotted man stumbled over himself, as well as practically every possible item in the room. You inched closer in an attempt to gauge more about this whole situation, albeit, you still didn’t catch that much, only managing to cling onto words like ‘holes’ or ‘collider’.
“Shoot…”
The hologram played out, and the new Spider’s panic grew.
“shootshootshootshoot-“
The Spots’ hologram began to mumble angrily- was that your name you heard in there? And Spiders? A lot of Spiders’ name, actually. You had no idea he’d had a run-in with him too. Soon enough, the panic began to rub off on your Spider-Man, as you heard him start to mirror the words of the stranger.
“Shoot.”
“UGH, no! Gwen Gwengwengwengwe-“
“Gwen! Hi~”
A…pregnant… Spider-woman appeared before the three of you. You truly seen it all now.
“Spider?”
Calling out to him, you tried your best to remember where his invisible form last was. No response. You whipped your head around wildly until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.
“Do you…know what’s going on?”
Miles kept his eyes trained on Gwen, as she explained to the Spider-woman about her detour with him.
“I have an idea.”
“Do you know who they are? Are they… other Spider-Men?”
“… never see him again, all right?”
The new spider person(whom you collected her name to be Gwen), spoke. Her shoulders dropped, and her head hung low as the holographic form of the pregnant hero disappeared. You watched in silence as she reached a hand before her mask and tugged it off. The hand on your shoulder squeezed before slipping away. Turning in your direction, a maskless Gwen stared past you - into the night. Upon seeing her face, you flinched. Ready to run off had she noticed your presence. But she didn’t. With glazed eyes, she stared right past you. You blinked, and for a moment, your jaw fell. She was young, looked around your age with neck-length blonde hair, half shaved. Her brows furrowed in a way that felt familiar to you, in a way that said, ‘I wish things were different’. She remained staring for a few moments, you and Miles stared back. It was quickly broken by a flash of bright light, spiralling in patterns and colours you’ve never seen before, And pulling her mask on, Gwen stepped in.
You didn’t anticipate your Spider-Man to be standing upside down when he came out of his invisible state, yet there he was. Facing away from you, towards the orange and red amalgamation of light Gwen stepped into moments prior.
“Sp-“
“I’m going in.”
“Wai-no. What do you mean you’re going in-”
“I mean, Cat, I'm going in there.”
His voice was raised now, shoulders tensed. He jumped down from the ceiling, stepping towards the portal. Realizing he was unmasked, you took in the dark curls that framed his face. You felt a strong urge to pull your own face covering off.
You did.
“Then… I’m coming with you.”
“You can’t-”
Spider turned around to face you. Brows furrowed and mouth open to send a negative retort toward your way, until his breath hitched as he became aware of the bareness of both of your faces. You stood, arms crossed, staring into the eyes of the boy. He had gentle features, warm brown eyes. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on exactly where you’ve seen him. School, maybe? He must’ve recognized you, seeing as he stared back with a bewildered look on his face. He closed his mouth, form un-tensing. You took the silence to speak once more.
“I said, I’m coming with you.”
You stepped towards the portal, reaching to pull your mask back on.
“I said I wanted things to be different, right? Well, I – I feel like this is a chance to change things up…what is it you said again? That ‘there’s a first time for everything��? Well, what if you were right, Spider, th-”
“Miles.”
You looked at, with a soft smile on the young heroes face
“Miles, my name.”
“… Miles.”
You tested out his name before speaking yours, one he must’ve recognized, as he responded with a flinch.
“You said your last names’ Hardy? Like Walter Hardy? The noto-
“ Notorious Black Cat burglar? Yeah no shit, Sherlock.“
Your mouth stretched into a wide smile as the serious air between the two of you dissipated. The portal crackled, before beginning to shrink in size. Miles spoke,
“So you’re… you sure you want to do this?“
There was a part of you that screamed at you to stay. That worried about everything you were leaving-by leaving. Guilt seeped into the back of your mind and you turned away from Miles to face the dark city skyline.
You reflected on your conversation earlier. Did you really want to be The Cat forever? Become like your father and die doing this job?
Did you really?
“I’m sure.”
You and Miles both now reached to tug your masks back on. The two of you sent one last look back out onto the city before nodding at eachother, and diving in.
-----------------
#miles morales x reader#atsv x you#atsv#reader insert#atsv x reader#atsv reader insert#spider-man: across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#across the spiderverse x reader#black cat! reader#hobie brown x reader#gwen stacy x reader#pavitr prabhakar x reader#miguel ohara
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Httyd Modern AU
Ships: hicret/eretcup, former hicstrid
Sumary: first time meeting, number puns, new flatmate,...
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One thing Hiccup didn't expect to see so up close was a picture of some more furred deer with large antlers and body made of lines. Much less to bump into the picture on the box.
He was running late to meet up with his ex for a breakfast at their favorite cafe and already sure that he attached his peg leg wrong. Now he was on his back and trying to regain consciousness over seeing tribal furry deers fly above him. It took him a few minutes to notice someone was calling him.
"Hey! Are you okay?!" As if an alarm activated in his head Hiccup sat up and instantly held back of his head in pain.
The big box was dropped on the ground carefully as the one holding it rushed to help him.
"Hey, slowly okay? That was quite a fall." The man spoke softly and one big arm supported his back while other batted his hand away to feel any swelling.
After regaining some consciousness and his vision cleared up better(though every around the center was still blurry), he noticed a tattooed man with tribal tattoo on his chin watch him with deep worry.
His eyes were amber brown, his skin was tan and he had his mid long hair tied, but that didn't stop bangs to sneak past his ears. Wait, were those beads in them?
After looking down he noticed that he was wearing a worn out dark green sleeveless hoodie and grey sweatpants.
"Hold on, I'll bring you some water." He quickly left, but not for a very long time. Just now Hiccup noticed that the man put a folded blanket behind his head and put his legs in the air by putting them against the box he was holding.
At least he seemed to know what to do.
Hiccup on the other hand didn't know what to do at all. But guessing by the spinning feeling in his body he could only wait to get better before-Oh shit.
Astrid!
He should be going, else she's gonna be worried sick!
He tried to get up only to find his peg leg detach when he tried to take a step.
What would have surely been a splat on the ground was avoided by a strong arm hooking him from below around chest to stop his fall.
"Easy now I got ya. Holding on?" Asked the man and tried to help him balance on one leg and aim him down to sit.
Once they managed that Hiccup let go of his hold and accepted the handed sports bottle of water.
The man took the prothesis and placed it next to the leg it belonged to.
"Want me to call you an ambulance?"
"No no, I'm fine thanks. I was just in the hurry and didn't notice you in the hallway." He took one more chug of water and gave the man the bottle back for now.
"Thanks."
"No problem, sorry for causing your fall. I'm moving in and this was the only box I could take while my cousin is parking." He motioned the the huge box with the reindeer logo.
Hiccup chuckled and reattached his leg "Yeah, this hallway always seemed too narrow for my taste. Hopefully I won't see reindeers in my sleep now."
His joke got the man to snicker before he held out his hand to Hiccup.
"Eret Eretson, room S8." He said with a bit of an accent. Maybe British?
"Straight?"
"No sir, gay."
Hiccup burst into laughter after the number pun and grin Eret pulled on after saying that.
After minimizing the laughter to giggles he said "There's no room S 8. The landlord ordered wrong fond so the 5 looks like a S."
"Shoot, there goes my chances of an endless joke opportunities. But at least it's not A5. Because anyone I would anger would write an extra S there and my address name would be an Ass." Joked Eret, cracking Hiccup again before saying.
"That's your aim anyway, so it would give a straight up message."
Now that cracked Eret into laughter "Good one."
"Hiccup."
"Um, bless you?"
Hiccup then chuckled "No that's my name. Harry Hiccup Haddock. But everyone calls me Hiccup. My mom's idea when she was high on adderall and dad on antidepressants on stress. My room is 54."
Eret clearly fought another laughter as he grimaced and made stiffened giggles after shaking his hand and helping him up.
"That must be a great story for office parties."
"Eh, after a few years it gets old." Shrugged Hiccup and drank rest of the water.
"Anyway I should go else my ex is gonna think I stood her up on our breakfast plans."
"Trying to get back together?" Quizzed Eret curious but Hiccup shook his head "Nah, just a tradition from college years together. Anyway, see you around. Hopefully next time without any crash collisions." Eret let Hiccup walk past him before taking the box and taking it to his apartment.
"No promises. See ya!"
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Chapter 6: Tteokbokki Confessions
w/c: 759
I’ve been at my apartment more since it feels weird over at the dorms. Maybe Wooyoung should just tell them so they can both ignore me…or it can go back to normal. I doubt it would. They could at least tell me if they don’t feel the same! There was a banging at my apartment door…probably my landlord telling me Mrs.Han complained about me crying again….or Mrs.Han complaining herself.
“Sorry Mrs.Han I’ll quiet do-”
“I’m sorry.” I looked up and Mingi was standing there dripping water onto the floor. “I didn’t want to make you cry I just wanted…to give you some space?”
“By never coming over or talking to me? What’d I’d do Mingi?” I looked at my floor.
“Um…can I come in?” he nudged me lightly with his foot.
I pushed the door open and let him in while he let it close behind him.
“Are you going to believe me if I tell you you haven’t done anything?”
“No.”
“You really didn’t do anything y/n.”
“So then what happened, I could help you get over that girl you liked, I could’ve talked to you about it, I could’ve done a lot o-or-”
“I couldn’t get over the girl I like it I’m around her all the time.” he stopped me.
“Huh?”
“How can I get over you when you’re here all the time.” he looked embarrassed.
“Mingi-”
“Look I know what you’re going to say, you like Yunho…I get it. He’s better than me and I mean shit I wouldn’t pick me but I didn’t want to get in the way of you guys and I mean look at how he looks at your, you’d never look at me that way and-”
“Mingi!” I stopped him and shook his shoulders. “Please stop talking.” I flushed red.
“I’m sorry.” he sniffled.
“Let me text Yu.” I squeezed his hand. “Please don’t cry.”
I texted Yunho and he was on his way, I grabbed water for Mingi after chugging a glass myself and sat down with him. There was a knock a few minutes later.
“It’s open!” I called out.
“Hey, it stopped raining.” Yunho smiled. “Oh god, an intervention?”
“Not quite…Well maybe for me.” I chuckled. “Sit down?”
He sat next to Mingi who was still processing everything, he probably thought I was going to just tell him to fuck off.
“Okay well…this isn’t..the easiest thing I’m going to say in my life but I uh..” my hands felt clammy, and I felt like my spit was getting thicker, harder to swallow. “Um well I….I mean all the guys know and I’m surprised Wooyoung kept a secret this long and uh.”
“Breathe Y/n.” Yunho held his hand out looking at my face start to pale.
“We’re listening, not going anywhere.” Mingi looked up getting nervous at my voice cracking.
“Well I uh…You might after I…and I mean I really don’t want you to, but if it’s going to be a problem I can’t just…I gotta say it.” my knees started shaking.
“She likes you Yunho.” Mingi said getting a little irritated that I couldn’t say it.
“I-It’s not that!” I rushed to sit him down.
“You like…Mingi?” Yunho looked over at me and then at Mingi.
“It’s not as simple as I like one of you and….God why can’t I just.” I sat on my coffee table.
“Y/n…do you like me?” Yunho asked.
“Of course I like you….I like you more than a friend.”
“And then why did you make me stay?” Mingi snapped.
“Because it’s…not just Yunho.” I squeezed my hands together. “It wasn’t just Yunho that I liked.”
“I don’t-”
“She means you too idiot.” Yunho cut him off and looked at him.
“Me too?” Mingi looked at me and I nodded.
“I like..both Mingi and Yunho..as.more than a friend.” I turned a deep red and I could feel my vision blur from tears.
There was a few mumbles and then suddenly a pair of arms around my front.
“I really am stupid.” Mingi mumbled into my shoulder.
“Please don’t go anywhere.” I whispered and held onto his hoodie.
“Come on, dinner on Mingi.” Yunho announced standing up.
“Me?”
“You did cause this.” he shrugged. “Come on. I’m starving.” Yunho pulled me up and into him. “You can be mad at him you know, plus I like you too.” he wrapped his arm around me and walked towards the door.
“I’ll decide after tteokbokki.” I smiled lightly. “And a few drinks.”
A/n: Hi I don't like conflict! So I immediately wrote the next chapter....double update! 💖💖 Will they be together? Will they pretend it never happened?
~Prev/~Next
Taglist (open) : @legohwas
#ateez#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#yunho#yunho x reader#my writing#mingi#song mingi x reader#mingi x y/n#yunho x y/n#yunho x you#yungi smau#ateez yungi#yungi x reader#eotb
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PLEASE HELP, URGENT MEDICAL CARE NEEDED AFTER LANDLORD POISONS TENANT
($15/100) ($15/600)
Ve/nmo
Casha/pp
paypa/l
GoFundM/e
Hello. This is a really disturbing update. The basics of the situation are that while I was gone for a week dealing with my landlord, who was threatening and harassing me and trying to force entry, Yazid was facing a much much worse landlord situation. He was admitted to the hospital for acute and severe illness on 2/12/22.
It seems (this is alleged and has not been proven legally but there's a LOT of evidence for this) that the landowners INTENTIONALLY POISONED HIM. This kindly, sweet orphanage caretaker who's kids need him so badly. Right as he's getting to finish school, a dream of his. All over $40 of the rent being late, too. I can't even fathom doing that.
The hospital is now denying Yazid treatment unless he pays for it. In total, he needs $)600, but he believes ANY amount can help, he thinks if we get about $100 they'll come around and be willing to wait, because that's how things usually work with hospitals in his area of Uganda.
Yazid already has had many health problems, which you can read about in other posts and updates, like liver failure, malaria and typhoid repeatedly, broke his leg and kept working on it, and straight up almost died from exhaustion once because of how hard he works. This has all been in just the past year and a half-ish. His body can't take anymore of this abuse. He's exhausted, in pain, sick, and terrified.
Please, if you have ANYTHING ANYTHING AT ALL to spare, you can make this situation go from impossible to something the orphanage and the volunteer staff can actually push and get through.
So please, help us get Yazid his treatment, if you can. Share this page. Share our update. Spread it to loved ones, followers on the Internet, to coworkers, helpful groups you know of, even total strangers you can find online while browsing, seriously, anyone!!!
I know talking to strangers online is hard, so I'll be posting a premade message in the Carrd you can copy and paste. There's also pages of proof linked there, but feel free to ask me or Yazid (contact info on carrd) any questions. We can give you every type of proof you ask for.
Hopeful,
-Maddie
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It was only a dog, Kyle told himself. It wasn't like he'd lost a family member or something... and yet...
He knew it probably hit harder because Baron had belonged to his father, one more link between them gone from the world.
But it was more than that. The old dog had been a family member, at least to Kyle.
Big loss that it was, his passing wasn't unexpected... Baron had been old even when he'd joined the household five years earlier. He'd been an unplanned addition, soon after Kyle's father had died. Willow hadn't been completely happy with the idea, especially as she already had a cat.
But in the end, even that hadn't been a problem.
Like Marie the cat, Willow had eventually, grudgingly, came to accept Baron - despite the fact that he was loud and largely untrained and, at his age, apparently untrainable.
Kyle's daily walks would be a lot lonelier now.
It hadn't helped that Baron wasn't the only link to his father that Kyle had lost in the past year. It had been a huge shock when their landlord told Kyle and Cory that they were going to have to terminate the lease on the bookstore. The old building no longer met standards and it was going to need major work to make it compliant.
There was no one to blame - the landlord did all the expected maintenance and the shop looked tidy and sound to the untrained eye, but building standards were changed and revised all the time. And the landlord had gone out of his way to help them find a new building to move to.
The new shop was spacious and modern and nothing like the one they were leaving behind.
And, it was a lot better. Even Kyle had to admit that.
The other building had been fine when they were small and starting out. But the shop was popular now, and it had been cramped and almost unmanageable in the old building during busy times.
It was another link to the past lost, but letting it go wasn't as hard as Kyle had expected it to be. A new beginning might be a good thing after all. Who knows, maybe even his father would have been looking for a bigger building, when their customer numbers grew.
And they kept some traditions alive - Willow was the first customer in the new shop, just as she had been in the old one.
From Kyle - Part 2
I am genuinely sad to see that dog gone from the game - partly because I'm writing this in the wake of losing my r/l 19 year old cat so it hits hard, but also because Baron really made himself a part of my hood. More than once I'd see Kyle walking him on a community lot while I was playing another family (that's where all the pictures of Kyle walking the dog come from). He also seems to have found his way into the background of most of the pictures I have of this household. I really notice his absence when I play the house.
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TIMING: Current FEATURING: Thea ( @notstinky ) & Cass ( @magmahearts ) LOCATION: Thea’s house, Worm Row SUMMARY: Cass's hair looks so nice! Gee, she must be a really skilled hairdresser Oh, wouldn't it be a great idea to invite her over to cut hair? CONTENT WARNINGS: none unless you are Charles Xavier
Cass was sad and Thea didn’t know what to do about it. She didn’t think it was the sort of sadness that could be extracted with company and google searches of a B-list X-Men (she would apologize to Rictor if he was real, but he probably understood why he was B-list). And, certainly, it wasn’t the sort of sadness that would magically evaporate if Thea let her hair be Cass’s new canvas, but she was going to try anyway. Standing around and letting her friend be sad just wasn’t an option. The week before a full moon was the time she had the most energy; the moments in which her body forgot what would happen to her in a few days' time. If she was going to give Cass the best damn chill-hang-out-at-a-friend’s-house ever, it would have to happen now.
“Cass!” Thea flung the door open with a wide smile. “Just in time! The google images page just loaded.” Thea spun her Macbook around, showing off the bright screen and the thousands of results of ‘Rictor marvel’ on Google: from his wet-dog X-Factor investigations look to his tragic early look with the nonsensical beige shoulder pads. “Come-in-how-are-you-love-the-hair,” she muttered all at once, standing off to the side so Cass could enter.
Thea’s extremely humble rental home had all the charm of something built two decades ago, maintained by the laziest of landlords, and subject to a bit of a pending silverfish problem. In every corner there was chipped paint and strange brown stains; if a floorboard didn’t creak then it was probably scratched so deeply that it had a new texture altogether; and the light bulbs illuminated the area in such warmth that it verged on orange. The only thing the house had going for it was the size, designed for a large family but currently occupied by Thea and three other mysterious college students she never saw except for the one time all three of them were huddled outside of her bedroom window, looking up at her. She didn’t think much of it. If her rent was five times what she was paying, it would remind her a lot more of the houses in Toronto.
—
Cass could count on one hand, really, the number of times in her life when someone had recognized she was upset and wanted to do something about it. It was the kind of thing that had seemed impossible for so long, as fantastical and outlandish as the events that unfolded in the comic books she was so fond of. But now? It was becoming almost common. Alex talked her through it when she was feeling abandoned, Nora stayed with her when she was upset, Van let her stay when she begged for it, Thea invited her over when she was sad and rambling on and on. She knew it was probably temporary, knew that eventually they’d all choose to leave her too, but she could enjoy it while it lasted, couldn’t she? She could sit with it, could let it lighten the load on her back. She could walk to Thea’s weird house in the bad part of town and feel good about it, could smile when her friend opened the door.
“Thea,” she greeted, letting her gaze jump down to the laptop monitor as it was turned around. And, yep, there he was. Short-tempered earthquake master Julio Richter, displayed in a thousand different boxes on the Google image result page. “I miss the mohawk,” she sighed, zeroing in on one of the pictures and shaking her head. “I wish they’d let him have one again.”
She stepped into Thea’s house as the other girl stepped to the side, glancing around. She couldn’t say much about anyone’s living situation — living in a cave kind of disqualified her from commenting on anyone’s house, she was pretty sure — but Thea’s place was a little run down. A little falling apart, a little unsteady on its foundation. She wondered how much it cost to live here, wondered if Thea wouldn’t be happier living in a cave instead. She couldn’t imagine anyone preferring any kind of living structure that wasn’t a cave, but people were weird, she guessed. “Um, I didn’t bring scissors because I don’t know where mine are. Do you have some? I can do your hair. What kind of hairstyle do you want?”
—
“It’s better than the long hair and the…whatever this is.” Thea pointed at a picture of Rictor sporting a green headband and skin-tight green spandex. “He looks like he’s going to teach a spin class.” And if Thea understood anything about Rictor, it was that he should not be teaching a spin class. Shatterstar would probably teach an interesting spin class, though. Maybe this was a new subject for Cass’s fanfiction. She’d have to casually broach the subject latter; it wouldn’t be polite to hound the best author in existence with her stupid ideas. The thought made her shiver suddenly, as thinking about Cass’s writing often did. She couldn’t level a comment about it that wasn’t praiseworthy, and that had seeped into her thoughts. Something was wrong, but she wasn’t sure what. Regardless, even if Cass had the writing skill of a sixth grader just discovering the ‘publish’ button, Thea took pleasure in just reading something her friend wrote. “I have scissors! They’re from Walmart, so maybe it’s lower quality than you’re used to, I hope that’s okay.” Thea gestured down the hall leading Cass into the bathroom.
Thea had taken great care to set it up for Cass. She had her Walmart scissors laid out, a spray bottle with water (she knew hairdressers used it, though she didn’t know why), towels, a stool and a hair dryer. A flickering thought crossed through her mind: if Cass cut her own hair, why didn’t she know where her scissors were? That seemed strange. Thea didn’t interrogate it. “Um, just whatever is easy,” she said, answering Cass’s question. “My hair is kinda longer than I like, so maybe just a little cut? Nothing crazy.” Thea sat down on the stool, lowering it so she was at a good height for Cass. She held up the laptop, pointing to a new photo of Rictor; a picture of him from the latest Excalibur run. “What do you think about this one?”
—
“It was the eighties,” Cass replied, squinting at the picture. “I think.” Hard to tell, sometimes; some of the art was recognizable as standard for the decade, but some of it was harder to pinpoint. A rough google image search was a lot harder to determine a specific year from than a full comic cover would have been, even for someone like Cass, who knew just about all there was to know about this particular obscure B-List X-Men character. “I’d go to his spin class. It’d probably be funny.” But talking about X-Men, with Thea, wasn’t quite as much fun as it used to be. That fanfiction bind was a silly one, but Cass still felt bad about it. Would Thea be angry with her if she knew? Maybe it was for the best that the subject changed to scissors and a haircut — that was a lot easier to think about without feeling bad. “Walmart scissors are fine!” Truthfully, Cass wasn’t even sure where she’d stolen her scissors from. It could have been Walmart. She didn’t think her ‘standards’ were quite what Thea assumed they were, but that was okay. She’d still do a good job on the haircut, she was sure of it.
The setup Thea had prepared for her looked very professional. Or… like what Cass imagined a professional setup might look like. She’d never actually seen one in person, but the chair and supplies Thea had pulled together didn’t look entirely dissimilar from that scene in Legally Blonde where they were all in the salon, so she figured it was pretty spot on. “I can definitely do that.” The words didn’t make her feel sick, so she was confident that they were true. That was how it worked, wasn’t it? Leaning forward to investigate the photo, she nodded. “I like that one,” she agreed. “That’s one of his better looks.”
And so, she got to work. She picked up a chunk of Thea’s hair, holding it between her fingers and letting her tongue poke out the side of her mouth as she concentrated. All she had to do was cut it riiiight… snip. Whoops. The scissors slipped, making the cut uneven. Cass carefully masked her surprise. It was fine. She’d cut a little more off to make it even. Except… That was uneven, too. A little more, then. She’d get it right eventually.
—
Thea’s head felt lighter. It was strange to think of hair as having a weight, but as Cass trimmed it very lightly just as Thea had asked, she certainly felt much lighter. She didn’t wonder why the snipping sounded so heavy; tiny cuts didn’t come with such a thick sound, like chunks of hair snapping under the sharpness of her Walmart scissors. When she glanced down, she thought she saw a pile of her hair that seemed to large to be something from a small trim, and she had emphasized she just wanted a trim, right? Nothing crazy? She had said that, hadn’t she? Thea continued to scroll through the images of Rictor, thinking nothing of it. Cass’s hair looked so good, if she got even a fraction of that talent used on her head, she’d be okay. There was nothing to worry about. “Do you like him just because he has rock related powers?” She asked, growing tired of scrolling through images of Rictor; most of them were images of him making out with Shatterstar anyway. She thought that was reductive, certainly Rictor was more than his messy gay romance. So, she typed, ‘cool rocks’ into the search bar and watched the page populate with images of different crystals and stones.
There were photoshop images of glowing rocks, one that looked like the cookie monster, and another that someone had just drawn sunglasses on. Thea realized she ought to have searched for something more specific. Instead of learning her lesson, she typed ‘cool volcanoes' and went with that. “Do you know why this happens?” Thea lifted the laptop up so Cass could see it, pointing at a picture of an erupting volcano with a branch of lighting striking down. She hadn’t intended to embark on a science lesson but unlike her searches of Rictor, the B-List X-Men, she did know a lot about the scientific functions of the world. She had lofty dreams, once. “How much do you know about volcanoes?”
—
This was not going well. Cass could tell, even if she gave no outward indication of it. Thea’s hair was way shorter than she’d meant to make it, getting more and more uneven with each snip. It was starting to look less and less like normal hair and more and more like a bowl cut, too close to the other girl’s skull. But she could still fix this, she was sure of it! She just had to… keep cutting. Thea could pull off short hair, anyway. She’d probably look good. And it’d come in handy with the janitor job! She’d save a fortune on hair ties, and she wouldn’t have to worry about… janitorial stuff getting into her hair! Cass was doing her a favor, really. With a newfound confidence, the oread continued to snip. She was nailing this, actually. She was doing great.
“I like him for a lot of reasons,” she replied, “but the rock related powers are definitely a big one. Have you read the new Excalibur? They gave him lava powers in the new Excalibur.” Naturally, Cass had been thrilled when she read it, even if the comic over all hadn’t been very good. She could excuse bad writing if it meant Rictor was in a comic book again. “I like his personality a lot, though. And his backstory is cool. I think it’s neat how he doesn’t try to fit in. He’s like, ‘This is who I am, and I’m gonna make earthquakes about it.’ I like that.”
Another snip, another mistake. Cass was growing less confident in spite of her internal pep talk. She distracted herself by looking at the laptop screen as Thea held it up for her. “Oh!” She grinned, excitement rushing through her. “There are a lot of factors that contribute to volcanic lightning, actually. Ice charging, frictional charging, fractoemission, radioactive charging, plume height… It builds up in the plume of an eruption. Not really as straightforward as a thunderstorm.” She lifted another strand of hair, snipping. Uneven again. Why was this so hard? “I know a lot about volcanoes.” Nearly everything there was to know, including some things that human scientists didn’t. But she could be chill about it.
—
“No, I haven’t read it yet. I’m really behind on comics. Like, by a few years. I got busy with school and then I got busy with…” Turning into a wolf and eating people. “…moving to America.” Thea sighed, sinking into her stool before she remembered that Cass was trying to cut her hair and moving around wasn’t helping. “Sorry!” She straightened up. If there were some uneven cuts (which she doubted, Cass was probably a pro), it would be Thea’s fault. “It's interesting that you picked Rictor, y’know? ‘Cause not a lot of people would pick him as their favorite; I think that says a lot of good things about you, Cass.” This hair cut was taking a while. Well, she couldn’t rush a genius. Her head felt really light, which was probably a good thing. She repeated this in her head until she believed it, which didn’t take very long—Thea had a superhuman ability to delude herself into anything. She was very proud of the skill.
“Really?” Thea spun around, interrupting another cut. “Ah,” she winced. “Sorry, sorry.” She spun back around; now there really was no one but herself to blame for uneven cuts. “Could you tell me more about volcanoes? Um, okay, well...I know how they’re formed and I know about the different types…” Thea scrunched her face up, trying to think of something specific she wanted to know that she could ask Cass about. In the end, she thought she knew quite a bit about volcanoes and couldn’t think of an extra curiosity on top of it. “Did you go to school for uh, the study of volcanoes? What is that called?” She asked and as a thought occurred to her, striking in her mind not unlike the lighting in ash plume, she spun around again. “Cass, do you…” And then she saw it: from the corner of her eye, her hair. Or, more accurately, her lack of it.
Thea stumbled to her feet, staring at herself in the mirror. “C-Cass?”
—
“It’s not good,” Cass said matter-of-factly, “but Rictor is there.” In her opinion, that made the book one worth reading. It was the eternal plight of comic readers, wasn’t it, to suffer through terrible storylines and awful art just to catch a glimpse of their favorite characters. Thea would understand that, she thought; Thea understood most of what Cass said about comics. Thea moved, and Cass’s hand slipped a little, but with all the other uneven cuts… it wasn’t even noticeable. It was a bad needle in a bad haystack. It was all just bad. “I know he’s not, like, super well-known,” she admitted. “I just like his vibes. I don’t know. Who’s your favorite obscure mutant?” She wanted to know everything about Thea’s tastes, if only to distract them both from what was an undeniably a terrible haircut.
Thea spun around again, and Cass winced. What was one more uneven cut in a sea of them? “I can tell you anything you want to know. I didn’t go to school for it, though. I, um…” She tried to think of the best possible way to describe it. “I learned it when I was a kid.” Not entirely true, but she could hardly say I was born knowing without questions. Anyway, it seemed like the conversation wouldn’t remain about volcanoes for long, because Thea was looking in the mirror and stumbling to her feet. Cass let out an undignified squeak, scrambling over and throwing a blanket from the floor over the mirror. “I’m not done yet!” As if there was any fixing this. “I’m not finished! You can’t look yet! Let’s talk about rocks!”
—
Thea tapped her chin, taking the question very seriously. It was hard to say what counted as an obscure mutant; Thea knew most of, if not all of the official X-Men and in her heart, Xuân Cao Mạnh/Karma was well-known, for example. She was still thinking about the question as she stared at her hair, before the blanket flew on top and she was staring at lint and dust. She would never get around to her answer, which was Monet St. Croix because of that one issue of Generation X where she pushed Jubilee up against a wall and recited the story about the scorpion and the frog and made Thea feel things. Thea never liked ‘mean’ characters but the desire to be stepped on had never made more sense to her than when she thought about Monet. “Cass,” Thea said, turning to her friend—and Cass was her friend, right? “I don’t think there’s any hair left for you to cut.” Thea lifted her hand to her head and groped around the uneven, pointy ends. She still had hair, it was just much shorter than Thea thought she could ever pull off; much shorter than she asked for. “W-what is there left to finish?” But like a good friend or a soldier in shock having watched their friend (her hair) be shot (cut up in what she could only describe as an intoxicated person’s attempt at mowing a lawn with blunt scissors), Thea sat down again.
“Tell me about rocks,” she mumbled, staring out of her soap-stained bathroom window. Her voice had gone flat like a soda left out. “You know, my hair kind of looks like those chia pets. But worse, because those are even.” Thea blinked. “That’s not really related to rocks; I’m sorry. Do you think I’d still look cute if I was bald? Be honest. Rocks are bald.”
—
There was hair left for her to cut! A little! She could fix it, she was sure, she just needed Thea not to look yet. It was too much pressure when Thea was looking. When Thea was looking away and talking about X-Men, Cass could convince herself that the haircut didn’t look quite so bad because no one was freaking out about it. But now, Thea was looking, was reaching up to touch the uneven ends, was stammering through her words. Cass really wanted to go back in time to about three minutes ago, before she’d really started in with the scissors. “Don’t freak out,” she said, though she was freaking out more than Thea seemed to be. “I’m gonna make you look so cute, okay? Um, cute enough for Scott Summers to refuse to blast you to pieces on the moon even though you’re ending the universe!” That was romantic, right? She’d always thought it was romantic, the whole ‘Cyclops and Phoenix dying in front of each other all the time’ thing. Thea would probably like the reference.
“You don’t look like a chia pet,” she squeaked. The lie tasted acidic, making her stomach churn. Thea looked so much like a chia pet right now. “I think — I think you’d look really cute bald. Way better than Charles Xavier. He looks stinky, but you’d pull it off on account of — you — you don’t, um — you don’t make teenagers fight supervillains for you.” This was going so well. So well.
—
It was true that Scott Summers and Jean Grey were sorta romantic; it was cute that through the chaos of her telepathic powers, she thought of Scott like an anchor, it was also true that through the evils the Phoenix could commit, Scott saw the woman he loved. Then there was that whole mess with Madelyne Pryor and Mr. Sinister but that was comics; for everything that made sense there were about twenty things that didn’t. The thought comforted Thea. Perhaps this was her Madelyne Pryor moment; it wouldn’t make sense but maybe she’d look back on it fondly and be thankful that it gave her Nathan Christopher Charles Summers, whose name would always be stupid but at least he had a cool glowing eye. This was her glowing eye. Or maybe, just maybe, her sanity had slipped from her like a screw loosening, popping out of its hole, and rolling away. It was true that she didn’t make teenagers fight for her but the thought didn’t comfort her as much as it should have. The truth was Charles Xavier was an ugly bald bitch and now she was going to be an ugly bald bitch too.
And there was no saving an ugly bald bitch (Thea issued mental apologies to all the ugly bald bitches that weren’t Charles Xavier—he could choke).
“Do you think I could pull off a wig?” Thea sniffled. “Maybe I could wear a red one like Jean Grey and then when I try to destroy the world, I’ll find a Scott Summers who seriously thinks about letting me do it. And a Logan too, although he’s kinda stinky I don’t know if I want him.” She paused. “I’m gonna be so ugly Cass.” She flipped around in the stool. “Promise me I’m not gonna be ugly. Look me in the eyes and say I won’t be ugly. I need you to mean it. I need you to say it for real. I need you to tell me I’m not going to adopt children and then make them fight for me but if I did do it, I’d be hot like Bruce Wayne and not an ugly bald bitch like Xavier. Promise me.” Thea wasn’t sure what she was making Cass do for her; the screw had rolled very, very far away.
—
She felt terrible. There was no saving what was left of Thea’s hair — even if she didn’t do anything else to it, it would grow back all patchy and uneven and weird. The best course of action, at this point, was to shave it bald. Except Thea didn’t seem to want to be bald, and Cass felt bad about making her bald. She thought about offering to shave her own head in solidarity, but she wasn’t exactly sure how that would work with her glamour. Her hair wasn’t even real hair, it was just a mask made of magic. She didn’t think she could shave it if she tried.
“You could definitely pull off a wig,” she insisted quickly. “You could do red like Jean, or — or blonde like Emma Frost. Maybe even white like Storm!” Was this making Thea feel any better? The idea of having Scott Summers and Wolverine in some kind of eternal contest to see who got to be with you on the rare occasions where you were all alive at the same time didn’t sound entirely appealing to Cass, but then, Cass also thought that Wolverine was a little stinky. Scott would probably be a good husband, but all the inner turmoil might get a little old after a while. “You’re not going to be ugly!” She hesitated for a moment, because this could be bad. This could be very, very bad. But her friend was upset and it was her fault, and didn’t she kind of owe her something for that? Plus, ‘ugly’ was a relative thing, anyway. “I promise you’re not going to be ugly,” Cass said, deciding to risk it. “And I’m definitely positive if you adopted kids and made them fight for you, you’d be cool like Bruce Wayne and not stinky like Charles Xavier. None of them would even kill you, probably!”
—
“Emma Frost is seriously hot.” Thea sniffled. “But I think most of that is her boobs.” Emma Frost wasn’t her hair and the more Thea thought about it, the more it comforted her. She thought about the hottest X-Men; Emma, Jean, Ororo, and Mystique (Psylocke would not be making an appearance on her mental list because body snatching discounted her as sexy). She wasn’t going to consider modern depictions of these women because Marvel had finally stopped featuring them on covers with a boobs-out approach, except for Emma Frost, who always had her boobs out. Thea needed to think of them when they were at their sexy peak: half-naked in skin-tight clothing with questionable anatomy. Yes, all of these women had hair but none of them were known for their hair. She could be hot without hair! It would just also require having big boobs and tight clothes and questionable anatomy. In the end, she was back where she started, accepting that Emma Frost wasn’t hot because she had hair, but because she had big boobs. Thea glanced down; some things could not be willed into existence.
The promise was nice even if it wasn’t Thea’s concern now. Sure, she wouldn’t be ugly but would she be Emma-Frost-hot? She twisted in the stool again. “Promise me I’m hot?” she asked, her wet eyes glistening. “Promise me that if you saw me with this hair walking down the street you’d think ‘wow, she looks attractive and cool’?” Thea blinked. “P-promise me that if you saw my hair, and if you were a stranger, you wouldn’t think ‘oh she fell into a lawn mower’…promise? Do you promise that? Do I have the Cass guarantee that no one is even going to notice my hair? No one is going to notice, right? If my child kills me it’ll be because they have an uncontrollable darkness inside of them and not because I’m an ugly bald bitch, right? Promise?”
—
“It’s not the boobs, it’s the attitude,” Cass insisted, still trying to salvage the whole ordeal. “And you’ve got a great attitude, too! Your attitude makes your boobs Emma Frost-level boobs.” Was this helping? Thea was looking down at her boobs — which were, decidedly, not Emma Frost-level boobs, because Emma Frost-level boobs really only existed on Emma Frost specifically, and that was because no one who had ever drawn Emma Frost had done so with a basic understanding of how boobs actually worked — and Cass was desperate to put some kind of a positive spin on this absolute disaster of a haircut. But some things were hard to spin. Cass couldn’t imagine Emma Frost or Jean Grey with this haircut, and she thought Thea probably knew as much.
Which brought them to a new promise. Cass could promise Thea that she wouldn’t be ugly and adopt a bunch of children that she’d make fight for her, because ugly was a relative term and Thea adopting a bunch of child soldiers was far-fetched enough to make the reward outweigh the risk of the promise being broken. But promising Thea that Cass, specifically, would see her haircut and think she was attractive and cool? That was… a little harder to keep. “Uhhh…” Cass’s eyes darted to Thea’s reflection in the mirror. “I don’t think you look like you fell into a lawn mower,” she said, which wasn’t a promise. She couldn’t make the promises Thea was asking for, because people were definitely going to notice. “Bald is in right now! Florence Pugh shaved her head this year, remember? Natalie Portman’s done it, too! And Karen Gillan! You’re gonna be trendy, Thea.”
—
“Those were for movies!” Except for Florence Pugh, but when you were an actress who made as much money as her and who looked like her, you could do anything. Thea thought so, at least. She stood up, pushing the stool away. She gripped Cass's shoulders and shook them lightly. “They got paid! They made money! I don’t have Emma Frost boobs or an attitude! My attitude is like a wet, overcooked noodle! I’m mushy! I’ll never be Natalie Portman or Emma Frost!” Water stung the edge of Thea’s eyes. She released Cass, sighing. It wasn’t her fault, Thea moved around a lot: shaking her head, talking, showing off pictures of volcanoes. It wasn’t lost on her that Cass didn’t promise the things Thea had asked, but as she pulled the blanket Cass threw on the mirror away, she knew what she’d asked for was impossible. It really would take the anatomy of a sexy comic book female character to fix her, and she was never going to get that. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, turning to face her friend. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure this looked really good before I started moving around and asking about volcanoes.” She slumped.
Thea’s goal had been to cheer Cass up, bald or not, she could still be a good friend. Sucking in a deep, quivering breath, Thea forced her mouth into a wide smile and perked up. “Maybe I’ll start a new trend!” She wouldn’t. “Maybe I’ll be so weird that I’ll be hot!” She really wouldn’t. “Maybe this will make me extra approachable.” It wouldn’t. She considered that if she shaved it down all the way, instead of leaving the uneven strands, she’d look better—but then her hair would have more to grow back from and she did want her hair to go back, desperately. “Hey, why don’t we watch V for Vendetta? So we can see Natalie Portman be bald. And maybe we watch that part of Fantasia that’s ‘Night on Bald Mountain’. Maybe we have a whole bald themed day. I’ll order a pizza but with no toppings, because it’s bald. I’m bald.” She opened her arms, inviting Cass into a hug. “I really appreciate you coming here to cut my hair and hang out, Cass.” This time, her smile was genuine.
Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at the glowing screen of her laptop. Once Cass was gone, she was going to look up pictures of Emma Frost until she felt her hotness was transferred into her. Then she’d try on an all white outfit and spill sauce from a leftover slice of pizza on it and cry. But that would be then and for now, all she wanted to do was hang out with her friend and be bald.
#a little off the top#c: cass#writing#s1#// this was so fun#the rammys are going to be felt worldwide#also rip to thea's hair
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