#(the tag says satomi)

[joseigamer]

I finally found the source for the interview between Satomi Tadashi and Kazuma Kaneko (main writer and artist) where they literally call Tatsuya and Jun gay - (”homo” - english loan word). It’s from the Innocent Sin World artbook (pub. in 2000). Here is the translation, and here is a link to the artbook. It’s on page 32. It’s not like this is anything new, but I feel like it’s important to have the original text onhand when sharing stuff like this! Translation under the cut for ease of access/archival purposes:

— What do you think Jun thinks of Lisa and Tatsuya’s relationship? SATOMI: I think he wants Lisa to be a bit more gentle with Tatsuya. KANEKO: She’s really got a jealous nature, doesn’t she? “Shaddup, woman.” Didn’t everyone expect Jun to say that? And then he’d say “Tatsuya, hold my hand a little bit tighter please.” SATOMI: Well, everyone is free to think what they like about that. *laugh* Personally, I don’t think he’s necessarily gay. KANEKO: Jun isn’t gay…but he likes Tatsuya, right? SATOMI: He likes him. If Tatsuya asked, “Do you like me?” Jun would say, “I like you!” KANEKO: Tatsuya would ask “Do you like me”? SATOMI: I think he’d ask like that. KANEKO: I think he’d say something like “What do you think of me?” And then Jun would say, “I like you!” SATOMI: If Jun said something like that, he would turn his back and seem happy. KANEKO: Who would? SATOMI: Tatsuya would. KANEKO: Tatsuya would turn his back and say, “You do?” happily? Well then, he’s gay, isn’t he! SATOMI: *laugh* …that’s why I said that everyone can think as they like about that issue. KANEKO: Well, I don’t know much about that field, anyway. I’ll have to do a little more homework. Hey, does Jun have thick hair? SATOMI: It’s not thick. KANEKO: And Tatsuya’s hair isn’t thick either? SATOMI: Right. So even if it gets tangled together, they’ll be okay. (NOTE: This refers to old, old literary references in which two people slept together in the same bed, so close together that their hair got tangled together.) KANEKO: What, so they really are gay. I see, so they’re gay, huh…Well, then Jun’s probably thought of assassinating Lisa? By setting some sort of trap for her…

[credit to chthonian.net for the translation]

[crescentmoonrider]

black cat satomi is semi-canon, but i like him as a black cat with white socks hehe

also ive seen kyouji designs where he's like a doberman, but honestly i think he'd be a mutt. large dog for sure, but unidentifiable

[usermischief]

♜Pairing: Briles ♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot, Kira Yukimura, Lori Rohr ♜Tags/Warnings: getting together, explicit sexual content ♜Words: 8217 ♜Kinktober 2023: Reluctant Sex

ao3

---

this funny feeling

“And, here you go.” The hotel employee pushes the door to the dining room open.

Stiles smiles at her. “Thank you so much. I’m terrible with directions.” And he’s a bit too tired after having to catch a fight at 3 am to navigate a hotel he’s never been to.

“That’s absolutely no problem, darlin’.” The woman smiles before returning to the reception. Luckily, it’s early enough that not too many people are out and about yet.

So, Stiles isn’t surprised when the only people he spots in the dining room are Satomi, Morrell, Brett and Lori, as well as two couples with newborns. He’d have preferred for Kira to be up as well, but he also can’t expect her to crawl out of bed at 7 am during her vacation.

Stiles’ heart jumps when Brett turns to look at him — and a smile blossoms on his lips. Fuck. This is the worst. He thought he’d be over him, still, every time he sees Brett again, his crush on the guy all but punches him in the face. Going to the same university for two years brought them a lot closer together. They were friends, surely. In the beginning out of convenience, but that changed later. They hung out daily, and Stiles’ heart did what it did best — it got attached. He did date other people during and after college, but it didn’t fucking matter. Every time he sees Brett again, he’s right back where he started.

Stiles takes a deep breath and crosses the room. “Good morning.” With a little awkward wave, he drops his bags on a chair next to Brett. “And thank you so much for the invitation. I know this is a pack thing…” A two week long vacation is exactly what he needs after the year he’s had, but he’s still a bit unsure about the whole thing. Part of him feels like he’s intruding on something private.

“Kira and Brett insisted to have you join us.” Satomi smiles up at him.

Brett too?

Surprised, Stiles glances at the werewolf, who jumps to his feet. “Let’s get you some breakfast. You must be starving.” He ushers Stiles away from his snickering sister and towards the buffet without waiting for a reply.

Stiles doesn’t have it in him to tell Brett that he already had breakfast, that usually ended in a very long discussion of his terrible eating habits. During college, Brett had made it his mission to make sure Stiles eats three times a day — even when he was stuck in one of his terrible relationships. Plus, Stiles doesn’t mind to spend as less time as possible with Morrell, who told him she’d kill him the last time they spoke, and Satomi, who still kind of scares him. He doesn’t get a read on her, and he’s not a fan of that.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Stiles asks as Brett pushes an empty tray into his hands. “I don’t want to intrude.” He glances back towards the table and catches Satomi’s eye. Great. Grinning awkwardly, he turns back to Brett. They’ve been close during college, but never meet-the-parents close.

“She likes you,” Brett tells him as he puts a bowl of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast onto Stiles’ tray.

Does she? “I don’t think I’ve ever talked to her.”

Contemplating the options, Brett merely shrugs. “You saved my life. She’d marry me off to you if that were still acceptable in today’s society.”

Stiles squints at the French toasts that are added to his tray. “That’s been a thing?”

“Yup,” Brett says, reaching for a bagel before he continues, “provide and protect are the most important features of a future mate.” Deciding against the bagel, Brett adds a couple of waffles before Stiles even has the chance to move away — who the hell is supposed to eat all of that? “It’s a stupid tradition. Nobody cares about that any longer.”

“I’m good.” Stiles grabs Brett’s arm, stopping him from adding anything else to his plate. “You provided me with enough food. More than enough, actually.”

Brett stares at him.

Stiles tries not to laugh.

“Asshole,” the werewolf mutters eventually, flicking Stiles’ forehead. “Keep that up and you’ll sleep on the floor.”

“Sleep on the—" Stiles isn’t entirely sure if he heard that right. That’s a joke. It has to be. “Are we sharing a bed?” Hopefully, that’s not the case. Stiles hardly survived sleeping on a pull-out couch with Brett after a party, how the fuck is he supposed to get through two weeks of not only sharing a room but also a bed?

“Yup,” Brett confirms as if that’s the most normal thing in the whole wide world. “Don't hog the blanket.”

Oh god.

———

Sighing, Stiles sits up and rubs his eyes. He doesn’t exactly fall asleep on the beach often. To be honest, the last time he did that was when his mum was still alive. The fact that basically passed out in public says a lot about how desperately he needs sleep. This vacation has barely started, and Stiles already misses this freedom. But there won’t be a lot of time to sleep once work is starting again.

Stiles crosses his arms over his knees and scans the beach for Brett. He’s not too far away, entertaining a group of the youngest werewolves with a girl Stiles has never seen before. They look awfully… domestic. Like this is a thing that is happening all the time. It hurts watching them. It hurts in a way Stiles didn’t expect. Feeling like this is fucking stupid. He shouldn’t. After all, he threw himself in every relationship he could find. He stayed in every relationship that was convenient enough, no matter how terrible it ended up being, just to keep his heart occupied because he was too afraid to get his heart broken by losing Brett if he told him he loved him.

The girl brushes her hand over Brett’s arm, something Brett doesn’t react to — either because it’s a too common occurrence or because he doesn’t care.

Please, don’t care.

“That bitch.”

“Lori!” Kira is sitting up on her own towel, staring at her friend in shock.

But Lori doesn’t react. She crouches down next to Stiles, arms crossed over her thighs. “You know I’m right.”

Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “Who is that?” He can’t deny the pang of jealousy, or the frustration gnawing at him — and he can’t help but wonder, however briefly, if he’s missed an opening, he’s never been aware of.

“It’s Finch’s daughter,” Kira informs him, propping her chin on her left knee.

Finch’s kid? So, she probably knows Brett well. They must be close with each other since Finch and Satomi have decided to go on vacation together. Maybe they’re close in a way that— Stiles shakes his head and curls his hands into his towel. Best not to think about that right now.

Lori looks as if she’s smelling something rotten. “Quinn thinks she and Brett will bring the packs together one day,” Lori drawls, her voice teetering somewhere between annoyance and disgust, “through marriage.” At that, Lori shoots him an exasperated look.

“Marriage?” Stiles laughs because if he didn’t do that, he might end up screaming. “Brett?” he keeps going, going, going, trying so hard not to let the fear creep in. “He’s never going to marry.” Every time they as much as scratched the topic of marriage, Brett instantly changed it.

Lori stands up. “Not her, at least. Come on.”

“What?” Stiles looks up at her, drawing his brows together.

“We’re going to go swimming.” Clearly not in the mood for discussions, Lori grabs him by the upper arm and quite unceremoniously yanks him to his feet. The Talbots’ bossy nature really is fucking exhausting. “Drop the shirt. Kira, let’s go.” Lori doesn’t wait for either of them to follow them.

Knowing a little too well that any discussion is pointless, Stiles yanks his shirt over his head and tosses it onto his towel. If Lori wants him to go swimming, he will go swimming with her. Kira seems to have come to the same conclusion since she’s joining him on his way to the sea.

That Quinn girl spots them first, her features darkening almost at once. Mrs. Finch disliked him ever since Stiles corrected her once during AP Biology. Clearly, she didn’t speak fondly about him in front of her daughter.

Fantastic.

“Lori, hold on.” To his surprise, she stops dead in her tracks — causing him to almost crash into her — and stares at him with the same intensity remembers very well from Brett. “I don’t want to cause trouble, okay?” For one, it’s the first day of his vacation, he doesn’t need thirteen tense days. His anxiety is going to kill him. For another, Stiles doesn’t need to make shit any more complicated between the two packs.

But Lori merely waves a hand. “You’re here to resolve some issues, trust me.” And with that, the discussion seems to be over for her. Instead, she turns around. “Quinn, the girls want to play mermaid, not sea witch. Feel free to leave.”

Kira covers her mouth to stifle a laugh. Clearly nobody like Quinn.

“Yukimura!” Brett bellows from somewhere to their right. “Time to put your money where your mouth is.”

“Oh, shit.” Without warning, Kira grabs Stiles’ hand and yanks him around, hightailing it in the opposite direction. Her grip around his fingers is tight, unrelenting, almost as if she expected him to take a moment to tap into his fox again. He’s never been the biggest fan of the remains of the nogitsune still deeply anchored in his DNA.

But his body does remember its powers a lot quicker than he expected. “What’s going on?”

Kira lets go of his hand, probably realizing that Stiles can keep up with her, and scrunches up her face. “I may have made a bet with Brett,” she admits, glancing over her shoulder, “saying that there’s no way they could capture us.”

Us as in kitsunes, Stiles assumes, but before he can dwell on it too long, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. “A little warning would’ve been nice.” He grabs her around the waist and stops both of them in their tracks. Tierney and Jiang have cut off their path now that the beach has gotten a lot emptier. Both of them are brimming with excitement.

Stiles twists around, so he’s standing back to back with Kira.

And Brett is right there.

Fuck.

Stiles steps away from Kira, watching as Brett comes running at him fast. There’s an almost predatory grin on his lips. Heart hammering in his chest, Stiles chances a glance over his shoulder, hating that he can’t see Jiang and Tierney without looking away from Brett. The two of them, however, seem to be focused on Kira. Good. But going up against Brett isn’t exactly the outcome he would’ve preferred.

“Split up,” he says, and Kira doesn’t hesitate a second. She spins on around and dashes back the way she came from. Stiles does the same thing, rushing past Tierney in the opposite direction of Kira. They’re faster than wolves, for the most part, but running in sand is a fucking nightmare for Stiles. He’s more stumbling than running. Finding every fucking hole in the world is really on brand, meaning Stiles’ advantage is dwindling fast— because Brett is not a goddamn klutz while running.

Stiles glances over his shoulder, and instantly regrets his decision. He misses a quite deep hole and steps right into it. His shin smacks against the edge, and all he can do is trying not to eat sand. Cursing under his breath, Stiles pulls himself out. Before he has the chance to get his feet back under him, Brett’s arm is around his waist, and he spins him around, pushing him into the sand.

The grin on his lips is more than predatory. “You can’t run from me, little fox,” Brett whispers as he’s leaning down until their noses almost brush.

Stiles’ heart all but skyrockets. “Is that a threat or a promise,” he asks, and he hates how breathless he sounds, hates that his body wants to stay right here and not move whatsoever. He’s not exhausted, not in the slightest, and he’s here to win a bet.

“A bit of both,” Brett replies, sounding just as breathless. He doesn’t move either and remains kneeling over Stiles’ legs, fingers digging into the sand next to Stiles’ head.

Stiles licks his lips, breath catching in his throat when Brett’s gaze drops down to follow the movement. Despite himself, Stiles holds his breath for a moment, too scared to move a single muscle. What is going on? Why is he looking at his mouth like that? He sucks in a breath. “What’s going to happen now?”

Brett blinks and locks eyes with him again. “Ocean,” he mutters, brows slightly furrowed. It almost seems as if he’s not sure himself if that’s really what’s going to happen. He certainly doesn’t move to get Stiles any closer to the ocean. Instead, his gaze darts back to his mouth again. Brett swallows, licks his lips, and his gaze flicks up to meet Stiles’ again. “I—" Brett cuts off, and he cups his cheek.

Something clicks into place.

Oh god.

Brett is trying to kiss him. Brett wants to kiss him.

And for a second, Stiles considers letting it happen. Because why not? This is everything he wants. Kissing Brett has been on his mind since meeting him again in college. Stiles swallows, parts his lips. But he’s going to leave, and Brett is going to return to Beacon Hills — and he can’t do that to himself. He fucking can’t.

“Ocean,” Stiles repeats softly, but Brett doesn’t even react. His thumb is tracing his jaw, and Stiles’ heart feels like it’s about to leap out of his chest. Bad. Bad. “Shark!” Stiles yells, ripping his hand out of the sand.

Brett pulls away, staring at him as if he’s lost his mind. Which is fair. It’s not like sharks are usually hanging out in the sand, but it’s really the only thing he manages to come up with to distract the werewolf — and open up a chance to push him off.

Something he does instantly, forcing a grin on his face and pretending as if Brett didn’t hear his heartbeat or pick on his chemo signals. “I’m not going to be captured by a wolf.” Twisting away, he gets to his feet surprisingly quickly and doesn’t hesitate to dash back in the direction of the others — in the direction of safety.

———

“You’re up early.”

“Look who’s talking.” Stiles grins up at Kira and pets the blanket next to him.

She plops down, body warm and sweaty from what’s very clearly been a morning workout. Her dedication is admirable. He didn’t make it a week, and he’d especially not do it on vacation. Kira yawns and pulls her legs to her chest. “What got you out of bed? Insomnia?”

Stiles wishes insomnia was the issue for once.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing.” Aside from spooning him and giving Stiles the worst and most awkward morning boner, he’s had since fucking high school.

Kira cocks her head. “But he drove you out of bed at 5am?”

Stiles falls back and crosses his arms over is stomach. Only a second later, Kira does the same. They haven’t been able to do this in years. He’s been so busy working on getting the FBI’s supernatural division up and running, he hardly had time to even miss his friends. But right now, he hates being so far away, hates how occupied he is with travelling everywhere, sitting in hour-long meetings, trying to make supernatural creatures understand that he’s with them instead of against them.

And then he goes home alone, or crashes into a strange hotel bed in a strange town with no one to keep him company.

If everything goes well, Stiles will have another 12 months of this.

Stiles lets out a breath. “I can’t do this.”

“You still love him.” It’s not a question. It never has been a question.

“I can’t sleep in a bed with him for two weeks and walk away with my heart in one piece.” At this point, Stiles can’t even tell if he’s not too far down the rabbit hole already. How the fuck is he supposed to be this close to Brett and then act like nothing at all happened?

Kira turns onto her side, brushing strands out of her face. Her eyes are heavy on him, searching. “What if you tell him?”

“That I’ve been in love with him since college?” Stiles barks out a laugh, cold and humorless, a sound that hurts in his throat.

Kira gently pokes his side. “You’re not unlovable.”

Huffing out a breath, Stiles rolls onto his side too, facing her, and instantly, he’s transported back to college. How many nights have they spent exactly like this? More than he can count, that’s for sure. He’s never felt more peaceful. “But it’s Brett. Do you remember him ever being even remotely interested in a relationship?”

“But what if he is interested in you?” Kira urges, raising her brows in question.

Stiles pinches his. “Do you know anything?” It’s not necessarily unlike her to be this pushy, but it’s still a little unusual.

“No.” She shakes her head a little before propping herself up onto her elbow. “But Brett wouldn’t give away his right to a single room for just anyone.” That’s phrased very kindly. They both know Kira means that he wouldn’t give up his chance to have sex with various hot people hanging out at the hotel. “When I talked to him about inviting you, he instantly offered.” It’s not hard to see where she’s coming from. Brett wasting two weeks of sex with strangers without a second of hesitation isn’t exactly like him.

Stiles lets out a breath. “Okay, but even if he just so happens to like me back romantically…” he scowls a bit, but he cannot bring himself to say love. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous. “What good is it going to do? I’ll leave in two weeks, and there’s nothing I have to offer in terms of a relationship. I can’t even say when I’ve got the time to see him again. Do you know how hard it was to get these two weeks off?” He knows he’s being unfair by making it sound like this is some type of hardship. He wants to be here, but he’s a one-man-team at the moment. It’s a fucking nightmare. “Please, don’t get me wrong—"

“Oh, I know.” Kira sits up, smiling down at him over her shoulder. “But maybe things are easier than you think. You know how a different perspective can help.”

“So what?” Stiles its up too, bumping against her shoulder. “I should just tell him?” There’s no way that’s going to lead anywhere, not when Brett is Satomi’s second in command, and Stiles is the leader of the supernatural division. Maybe things will be calmer when everything is established.

Stiles squints at the storm in the distance, watching it creep closer minute by minute.

That’s a big fucking maybe.  

“I’m just saying that you shouldn’t knock it till you try it.” She bumps into him with a chuckle.

Stiles rolls his eyes. “I’ll think about it.” But he’ll doubt he’s ever going to admit to his feelings. He doesn’t want to allow himself the type of hope that will eat him alive.

“And if it gets too much for you, I’ve got room in my bed too.” Kira wraps an arm around him and scoots closer, so she can prop her head on his shoulder.

The first rumble of thunder is audible when Stiles leans his head against hers. It won’t take much longer until the storm is right above their heads. But neither of them moves.

———

Instead, they ran inside through the rain, laughing and cursing and probably being a menace for the hotel staff. Stiles does feel a little bad in retrospect. They did leave behind a few tracks, but Stiles only cared about getting into the shower, and now he desperately needs to get some food into him.

But the moment he reaches the dining hall, Quinn steps in his way. “So, you’re this year’s conquest.” She leans against the wall right next to the door. As she shifts in front of him, Stiles has the weird feeling that she’s been waiting for him.

Drawing his brows together, Stiles glances from her to the rest of the room and back again. “Sorry?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Quinn’s smirk is about as pleasant as nails on a chalk board. “Every year, Brett finds someone, makes them feel special, fucks them, and then doesn’t even look at them the next day. Didn’t peg you as one to fall for that.” 

Stiles stares at her, trying his best not to let his feelings get to him. It’s not like there’s a relationship in the cards; they’re living at opposite ends of this country. Stiles’ schedule with the FBI is a nightmare, and Brett, well, he’s supposed to be Satomi’s successor. He can hardly leave the pack. Stiles doubts he’d— why is the even thinking about this again? Only an hour ago, he’s talked this through with Kira, and as much as he’s trying to find it in himself to look for something positive, he can only focus on the negative. Probably because there are so much more arguments for keeping quiet.

Stiles shakes his head, deciding that not deigning this with a response is probably the best idea, and moves to walk away.

Quinn steps in his way.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“An apology.”

Stiles blinks. “For what?” They haven’t spoken a single word since he’s arrived. All she did was glaring at him from a distance.

“You’re ruining this,” Quinn tells him, stepping closer. Her eyes burn yellow, reminding Stiles that he should bring a weapon the next time he joins this type of fun. She looks ready to jump him. “Brett and I are supposed to—.”

“Bring the packs together?” Despite everything, Stiles has never been afraid of most werewolves. He whacked the fucking twins with a baseball bat when they were morphed into one weird as hell abomination, and he very colorfully told one of them what he’d do with a branch of mistletoe. He’s not going to be intimidated by Quinn. Raising his brows, Stiles leans forward a little. “I don’t care about your future plans, so back off before I forget that I’m with the FBI.” Stiles is really good at picking fights with people he doesn’t know. But this time, it’s at least not his fault.

Not entirely at least.

Quinn steps closer again, but before she has the chance to do anything, Brett appears out of nowhere and fits easily into the space between them. “Hey.” His voice is light and charming, but his rigid body speaks a different language. “Is there a problem?”

Stiles lets out a breath. Part of him wants to push Brett out of the way and deal with Quinn himself. He doesn’t need protection.

“You should find a different bitch, that one bites.” Quinn spits, stepping away from Brett with a sneer.

Stiles lunges forward, but Brett is faster than him. Grabbing his waist, he pulls him flat against his side, holding him back with no effort whatsoever. “Call him a bitch again,” Brett says in a low voice that’s so much more threatening than any growl could ever be. “I dare you. See what happens.”

For a moment, Quinn stands stock-still, staring at Brett as if she’s trying to figure out what the right thing to do is. She flares his nostrils as she takes a breath then gives Stiles a nasty smile. “We’ll continue this conversation probably much sooner than later,” she drawls, shooting Brett a look before stepping away. “Have fun.” Turning his back on them, Quinn walks into the dining hall.

Does she think Stiles is afraid of facing her alone? Because if that’s the case, she’s dead wrong. If Brett weren’t having an iron grip on him, Stiles would show her exactly what he thinks of her.

Fucker.

Brett doesn’t let go of him, holding him flush against his side, fingers digging into his waist, probably sensing that Stiles is very much itching to jump the other werewolf.  “Let’s go outside.” It’s not a request, and he’s not waiting for a response anyway. Instead, Brett grabs him by the back of his shirt and yanks him around so fast, he almost lost this footing. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he informs him in a hushed tone.

Once through the door, Brett lets go of him with a shake of his head.

It’s stormy outside. Rain is pounding on the canopy of glass. The conversations from inside barely reach them here, even less when Brett pulls the door shut behind them. Stiles nudges a chair with his foot, barely repressing the urge to kick it across the patio and into the pool or turn around and snap at Brett as well. Just for good measure. He can’t believe the guy had the nerve to drag him around like a rag doll. Instead, Stiles takes a deep breath and directs his gaze to the dark horizon. “There’s a beach ten feet from here,” he mutters, pushing his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “why the fuck would they have a pool?” Stepping right up to its edge, Stiles contemplates throwing himself into the cool water. Maybe that would drown the anger.

Stiles gets the feeling this whole vacation was a terrible idea.

“Sharks.” Brett doesn’t hesitate to reply and comes to stand next to him, so close their arms are almost touching. “But I bet you don’t fear those either.”

Stiles shoots him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Humming softly, Brett shrugs. “Not many people would talk to a werewolf like that. You’d probably punch a shark in the nose before it got too close.”  

“That’s how you lose a hand,” Stiles replies, fixing his gaze on the thunderstorm in the distance. “You want to hit the gills or eyes. Preferably the gills.”

“And threatening a werewolf is how you lose your head.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, but Brett is probably right. “Noted.”

“Can we go back inside without you trying to kill her?”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Stiles keeps staring towards the horizon.

Brett huffs out a breath. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at the dark clouds as if they’re to blame for this. “She came at me.” He doesn’t even understand why she’s so upset at him. After all, Quinn said herself that Brett is always hooking up with random people. Besides, if she knows him even a little, she’s fully aware that Brett isn’t at all interested in anything that’s even remotely like a relationship. The guy has serious commitment issues. If Quinn really believes Brett will settle down with her, she absolutely has to rethink her world view.

Sighing, Brett wraps an arm around Stiles’ shoulders and pulls him close. “I know.”

Stiles hates how his body instantly melts against Brett’s. At this point, the guy doesn’t even have to be a werewolf to notice that something’s up. But waking up next to him, missing him since graduating from college — part of him is tired of hiding his feelings. Maybe Kira is right. Maybe he should say something. If Brett doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, he might be able to finally move on. “She believes you’ll settle down with her.” Stiles knows he sounds jealous, but perhaps this is another way to figure out what’s what without serving his heart on a silver platter.

“And?” Brett cups Stiles’ jaw, easily moving his head so Stiles has to look up at him. “What do you believe?” 

That’s not the answer he hoped for.

Stiles swallows around a lump in his throat. “I can’t see you settling down,” he whispers, suddenly hit with an awful déjà vu.

“Not with her, at least,” Brett mutters, a smirk curling around his lips, and just like that, he leans down.

Slowly.

Giving Stiles time to react.

Panic floods his veins. The moment he kisses Brett, the moment he allows this to happen, there is no going back. There’s no way to stop his heart from free-falling. But he can’t be Brett’s hook-up for this vacation. He can’t do it. So, Stiles jerks backwards — and loses his footing completely. The pool, he realizes belatedly.

Fuck.

Stiles flails, knowing very well that there’s only Brett to hold onto, but Brett merely watches him, hand now pushes in the pockets of his jeans.

Asshole.

He crashes into the water, deciding that breakfast can very much be happening without him. There’s no way in hell he’s leaving his room today.

———

“Well,” Brett says, kicking the door shut behind him, “that day is going swimmingly, isn’t it?” With the most annoying grin this side of the universe, he sets down a box filled with various breakfast foods on the bet next to Stiles. The guy really makes it hard to be annoyed with him. Then again, it’s hard to blame Brett for letting him fall into the pool after pulling away from a kiss twice.

If not for his stupid heart, Stiles would jump at the chance to hook up with Brett fucking Talbot for two weeks straight. But he can’t do that to himself.

Shooting the werewolf a narrow-eyed look, Stiles pulls the box towards him. “Can’t wait for your full routine, Mulaney.”

“At least I’m not holing myself up in my hotel room to mope.” Brett toes off his shoes and collapses into bed next to him, his mood unbearably good.

“I’m not holing myself up,” Stiles shoots back, ignoring the pointed look towards the drawn curtains. Yes, he went straight to his room after falling into the pool. No, he did not come out to eat breakfast — and he will not leave it for lunch or dinner either. This day is very much over for him. “I hate thunderstorms, you know that.” He hates how accusatory he sounds. The storm is hardly Brett’s fault.

Quinn’s bratty behavior isn’t either.

For a moment, Brett doesn’t reply and instead watches him nibble on a waffle with near uncomfortable intensity. “You got up pretty early today,” he says then. It sounds like he’s been meaning to talk about this for a while now.

Stiles isn’t entirely sure what that has to do with anything, so he merely hums in agreement and hopes that’s the end of it. He’d love to watch IT since he, for one, paid money for it — ha — and for another, he really doesn’t want to go into any details of anything that may or may not have happened.

Not even in the slightest.

“Why? Nightmares?”

Stiles gestures towards the TV with his waffle. It’s not like he needs to watch it, he knows the movie inside out. He still very much prefers it over this conversation.

But Brett keeps pushing, “insomnia?”

Once again, Stiles doesn’t reply. Mostly because he has no idea what to say to get out of this. Because the truth is a terrible start.

“Or the fact that we cuddled, and you woke up horny?” Brett snatches the remote and turns the TV off without hesitation. “You know I noticed, right?”

Know would be a bit much, but Stiles somewhat suspected it. Shit like this is just his luck. “Listen,” he says as his cheeks grow uncomfortable warm, “I just…” what? What could he possibly say to get out of this? “Haven’t been close to anyone in a while.” Aside from sounding absolutely pathetic, it’s at least the truth. “Can I please get the remote back now?”

The gin curling around Brett’s lips is positively wolfish. “I’ll trade it.”

Stiles puts the waffle down and pushes the box of food towards Brett, raising his brows expectantly. Of course, that’s not what Brett meant at all. “I’m so not in the mood for this.” But Brett is a shithead, and there’s absolutely no way for Stiles to get out of this. He’s too drained to try and out-stubborn a Talbot. “What do you want?” For some awful reason, the question tasted bad in his mouth, as if part of him new he is making a huge mistake giving Brett’s stupid idea even a second of consideration.

“A kiss.”

His breath catches in his throat. “What?” Sure, Stiles probably should’ve expected it since Brett tried to kiss him twice already. Hearing it this bluntly, however, is a very different story. “The fuck is this coming from?” It’s also not technically a lie. Brett has never tried kissing him before.

A flash of surprise cuts through Brett’s expression of confidence. For all but a second, it seems as if he questions his calculations — no matter how quickly the grin returns. “You kissed Kira and Lydia.”

“That’s different.” Stiles regrets those words the second they leave his mouth. Why can’t he think before he speaks? Sure, technically, the situations have been a bit different; mostly because they haven’t been alone in a hotel room. He kissed them during a stupid game. It’s never been serious. Besides, he also didn’t have feelings for either of them when it happened.  

Brett’s on his case like a fucking bloodhound. “Oh, is it? We’re friends too, aren’t we? Or is it because—"

Before Stiles can think any better of it, he leans over and presses their mouths together. The very second their lips touch, he pulls back again, not allowing himself to give this any thought at all because if he does, throwing himself out of the window might be the more painless option. “There,” he mutters, not daring to meet Brett’s eyes.

The laugh filling the room is surprisingly breathless. “You call that a kiss?”

“You didn’t specify—"

“A real kiss, Stiles. I thought that’s obvious.”

But it’s not. Nothing is obvious right now. Stiles is two seconds from running away; this time not into a relationship but into Kira’s room. Maybe he should’ve taken her up on the offer the second she made it. “This is fucking stupid.” Stiles sits back on his heels, still staring anywhere that’s not Brett. That, however, is stupid too. Setting his jaw, he locks eyes with the werewolf. “Are people falling for this shit?” He’s angry and defensive, and Stiles knows Brett is more than aware of it — of everything, even the feelings Stiles harbors for him. How could he not? “It’s so stupid.” And it’s certainly not funny.

Brett laughs, tapping the remote against his thigh. “You mentioned that.”

Stiles makes a grab for it. Unsurprisingly, he’s unsuccessful. “I’m really not in the mood.”

“You mentioned that too.”

Stiles wants to smother this asshole with a pillow. It certainly would solved absolutely all of his problems in one go. “Seriously, if you want to kiss me that bad—" stupid, stupid, stop talking “— just do it. Don’t act like a fucking middle schooler.” Stiles snaps his mouth shut entirely too late. With Brett, there’s always a risk that he might do it.

And, of course, Brett doesn’t hesitate.

He tosses the remote aside; because it’s never been about this fucking remote, because Stiles could tell things have been different since the moment he arrived, because Brett attempted to kiss him twice already. He would have, too, if Stiles hadn’t pulled away to protect what’s left of his heart.

But Brett doesn’t allow that this time. He pulls him in by the front of his shirt and crashes their mouths together.

The collar of his shirt digs into the nape of his neck, and Brett’s lips glide over his. He holds him there, doesn’t allow him to pull away again in any shape or form. He wants to, and he doesn’t want to. His body screams for Brett, begs for his hands and his mouth everywhere on him.

But he can’t do that to himself. He’ll have a night, if everything goes well, he has two weeks with Brett, two weeks of living his heart’s desire — and then reality comes crashing down on him.

Brett’s tongue traces Stiles’ lips, and his thoughts evaporate. Stiles cups the back of Brett’s head, holding him close. Brett wraps his arms around his waist, pulling him even closer. His eyes flutter shut, and his heart pounds in his chest.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Stiles sighs softly into the kiss, giving Brett the chance to deepen it. His tongue flicks Stiles’ teasingly. His whole body tingles, and Stiles shudders as the werewolf grabs his ass shamelessly. This fucking guy has a way to consume him entirely too easily. It’s not fair.

Before Stiles knows it, he’s on his back, Brett above him, his body warm and heavy. His kiss is desperate and bruising and eager for more.

So much more.

For something Stiles would rather not give.

Fuck.

Stiles let’s go of Brett and pulls away. “Wait,” he whispers breathlessly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Their relationship is meant to remain strictly platonic. There’s too much risk to ruin it, too much risk to ruin himself.

And he can’t.

Not this time.

But Brett clearly doesn’t get the memo. He kisses him again, and Stiles kisses him back because he really, really wants everything that’s happening so, so fucking bad; the way Brett tastes like orange juice, his nose bumps against Stiles’ and his hands are roaming his body, and the way he bites his bottom lip.

It makes him dizzy.

Stiles curls and uncurls his fingers then grabs Brett’s shoulders. “Stop,” he mutters into the kiss. Wait doesn’t set the right signals. “Stop.” And he finally manages to turn his head to the side. “Brett—" He really needs him to fucking stop.

Instead, Brett drags his lips down to his jaw, trails them further down to his throat.

Stiles leans his head back, gasping when Brett sucks on his sensitive skin. It’s so easy to just give in.

No.

No.

“I said, stop!” Stiles gives Brett’s shoulders a shove and finally, finally, the werewolf raises his head, but he’s not moving off him. “I don’t— I don’t want this.”

Brett quirks a brow, clearly not buying it — not when Stiles’ body sends a very different signal. “I beg to differ.”

The amusement rubs him the wrong way, and he gives Brett another push. “I’m not going to sleep with you just because you offered me to stay in your room.”

Brett sits up as if Stiles slapped him in the face. “Is that what you think?” His voice is icy, his muscles rigid, and suddenly, the way he towers over him now is terrifying. It’s easy to forget how dangerous Brett can be — and he’s got every right to be pissed. “Do you believe Quinn? Do you really think I’d treat you that way?” They both know the answer to that question — and that’s most likely why Brett hasn’t kicked him out of the room yet.

Shaking his head, Stiles props himself onto his elbows.

Brett collapses onto the bed next to him. “Are you going to tell me the real reason?”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t.”

Stiles drops onto his back and squints at the ceiling. “A bit of both, I guess.”

To his surprise, Brett laughs. It’s breathless and soft and everything but angry. “Can I tell you something then?” He rolls onto his side and props his head on his hand, studying Stiles’ face with sparkling blue eyes. He’s so pretty it hurts. “Something only Satomi knows?”

Stiles licks his lips and nods. Slowly. He’s not entirely sure what he might hear. “Sure.”

“I love you,” Brett tells him as bluntly as always. He chuckles when Stiles bolts upright — not entirely sure if his heart is going to stay inside his body in the foreseeable future. But Brett continues talking as he scoots behind him and wraps both arms around his waist, “and I can’t stand another year of being away from you.” His left hand slips under Stiles’ shirt.

A shudder runs down his spine, and Stiles grabs his wrist. He doesn’t stop him, not yet, merely holds on for dear life.

With ease, Brett pulls him closer, running his fingers over Stiles’ lower abs. “I wanted to take my time and try to figure out how you felt.” His lips are so close, every word is painted against the shell of his ear. All the while, his hand creeps lower at a snail’s pace. “But the bed is still drenched in your scent from this morning, and… I overheard you talking to Kira”

“Oh god,” Stiles breathes, not sure if it’s because of the admission or because Brett pushes two fingers past the waistband of his sweatpants.

The soft chuckle paves its way straight to Stiles’ dick. He wishes he could say it’s because he hasn’t been close to anyone in forever, but that’s not true — it’s Brett, all of this is fucking Brett.

“And I just can’t help myself,” the werewolf whispers, grabbing Stiles’ chin to turn his head just enough to brush their lips together. “I want your scent all over me.” He hooks a finger under the waistband of Stiles’ boxer briefs, tugging once, twice. A question. ‘Stop me’, it seems to offer.

Stiles lets go of Brett’s waist and curls his fingers into the sweatpants instead, blood rushing in his ears.

And Brett continues; he keeps talking, allows his hand to slip further into Stiles’ boxer briefs. “I hated seeing you with others. I hate how they treated you.” Just like that, Brett curls his long fingers around Stiles’ dick — the touch alone makes him almost jump out of his own body. “I knew I could treat you so much better. I will treat you better.”

Stiles groans and lets his head fall back.

Another chuckle.

Stiles tugs on Brett’s sweatpants.

“You smell so good,” Brett whispers, free and sliding from his chin to Stiles’ throat. His thumb rests right above his pule. He hums, sounding so smug, so fucking happy with himself.

It should be embarrassing that all it took were a few choice words to change Stiles’ mind, but it’s hard to feel bad with a hand wrapped around his dick. “Brett,” he breathes.

Brett hums again and kisses his temple. “Want me to make you feel good?”

“Please.”

Brett makes a sound that’s somewhere between a moan and a grow. Everything after that is rushed. They’re moving, getting rid of clothes. Brett’s shoe refuses to cooperate. It’s fun to see Mr. Smooth getting frustrated enough over such a small thing. A moment later, the shoe is gone, and Brett is on top of him again, kissing him with a hunger that leaves Stiles lightheaded and painfully hard.

Biting his bottom lip, Stiles watches as Brett rummages through his backpack. He’s hard lines and muscle where Stiles is skin and bones, lack of training and time to eat carving their marks into his body. His dick is long and hard and, apparently, now exclusively for Stiles’ pleasure — well, and Brett’s, but that’s a given.

If Brett told him the truth, that is. Which he did, right? They’ve been friends for years. Brett wouldn’t lie to him just to get into his pants.

Right?

“I can hear you overthinking.” Brett drops the backpack next to the bed, flicking a bottle of lube at him.

Stiles catches it awkwardly. For a moment, he stares at it as if the weight of his future rests inside of it. “Are you sure about… this?” Stiles gestures vaguely around, not daring to look at him.

“You mean the sex thing, or the whole I-love-you speech?” Brett asks, and although he smirks at him, his blue eyes have gone unbelievably soft. “Because I fully intend to be your trophy boyfriend.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious about us. If you let me, I will come with you after this vacation. I’ll travel the US with you. I’ll make sure you eat and sleep, and I fuck you as often as you want me to.”

“And here I thought romance is dead.” Stiles can’t help but grin at the idea. It’s easy to see Brett by his side, to come home to him. Still, “it’s going to be boring for you, though, isn’t it?”

Brett raises his brows, shuffling closer until they’re nose to nose again. “Relaxing by the pool? No way.”

“I’m not staying in hotels like this.” Not usually, at least.

“Stiles,” Brett sounds exasperated, yet he cups his cheeks ever so gently. “I can deal with a year of ratty motels in the middle of nowhere if that means I’m with you, okay?” The moment Stiles opens his mouth for a reply, Brett leans over and kisses him, very clearly done with the conversation, and pushes him back into the pillows. “You’re not going to talk me out of this,” he whispers against Stiles’ mouth. “Stop wasting your breath.” With a chuckle, Brett plucks the lube from his fingers. “And relax, my love.”

Fucking hell.

Stiles runs his fingers through Brett’s hair and pulls him down for another kiss. He’ll allow himself to dream, to imagine this future Brett is painting will have a happy ending. Perhaps it does. He’ll never know if he refuses to try. So, he tries — tries to be an optimist, tries to relax as Brett’s hands and mouth explore every inch of his body, and tries desperately to hold onto his sanity as Brett’s tongue and fingers do their very best to make him fall apart.

Something that gets significantly harder the moment Brett thrusts in to the hilt. He presses their foreheads together, breathing heavily as he stays still for way too long.

Stiles hooks a leg around Brett’s thighs and rolls his hips. The way Brett moans his name makes him almost cum on the spot. “Fuck,” he breathes, “warn a guy.”

Brett chuckles as he captures his lips for another kiss mere seconds before he pulls back out and thrusts back in, fast and hard, yet not quite hard enough. Brett does it again, harder this time — testing how far he can go, or how much he has to hold back.

Stiles moans into the kiss when he does it for a third time, unable to stay quiet any longer.

“Okay?” Brett asks, stilling again.

“Yeah,” Stiles gasps, “better than okay.”

Brett lets out a breath. “You’re perfect,” he mutters, and it almost sounds like a curse. But Stiles can’t be bothered. Now that they’re here, he’d like to feel it for as long as he can, even when Brett won’t be leaving his side anytime soon — or ever, hopefully. God, he wants his marks all over his body, wants to feel this with every step he takes.

Brett seems to be thinking along a similar vein because he keeps the pace, fucking Stiles as if he’s got every intention to leave his mark everywhere. His fingers curl around Stiles’ dicks again, adding more fuel to the fire burning absolutely everywhere inside of him.

Stiles digs his fingers into Brett’s back, feeling his muscles tighten as he rushes towards his orgasm.

They’re hardly kissing any longer, instead, they’re breathing, gasping, moaning against each other’s mouths — lips brushing against each other’s more an accident than purpose.

And then, it hits him. His orgasm cuts to his core, and Stiles throws his head back.

Brett holds him, fucks him, until he collapses on top of him, boneless, skin hot and sweaty, face hidden in the crook of Stiles’ neck.

His brain is still trying to catch up while his heart is already beating in sync with Brett’s. His body truly never fails to disappoint. Stiles lets out a soft breath and runs his fingers through the blond strands. “I could get used to this.”

Growling quietly, Brett nips at his skin.

Stiles flicks his ear. “What the hell was that for?”

Brett chuckles and props himself onto his elbows. His eyes are bright, his lips ever so kissable, and he ducks down and brushes their noses together. “I’m not going to get a quiet afterglow, do I?”

“Have you met me?” Stiles raises his brows, not exactly expecting an answer to a question that couldn’t be any more rhetorical if he tried. “I could offer you cuddles in exchange for the remote, though.” He’s going to finish that movie, even if he has to stay still in Brett’s arms for the rest of it.

Sighing dramatically, Brett kisses him again. “Fine.”

Stiles grins. “I love you.” Three words he’s been wanting to say for years.

“I love you too.” But hearing them feels so much better.

[chairteeth]

I have realized that I should probably make some kind of pinned post, since my neurodivergent ass has decided to take all of my coding skills for custom themes and not use them.

Well, I'm Nishi (she/her). Better known on Discord and Ao3 as Nahikoate (just Nahi is good!). I've been on tumblr before, I'm just very bad at not losing accounts. This blog is probably gonna be a bunch of reblogs, some fandom content, and some original stuff here and there. My main fandom is Puella Magi Madoka Magica or more specifically Magia Record, I suppose? That's the most persistent brainrot at least. This blog is honestly mostly reblogs and a hub for my TouNemu proselytization. Minimal tagging because I have the memory of a goldfish, occasional nsfw text reblogs (I guess?).

I write a lot. Asks are welcome! So long as you're respectful, I'm friendly, if you're rude, you'll get blocked. And here's what a majority of people are probably here for:

Magia Record Analyses! (Ao3 version recommended)

"The Many Masks of Touka Satomi"

"Nemu Hiiragi: The Shadow"

"Touka, Nemu, and the White Walls"

"Touka, Nemu, and Self-Perception"

"Nemu and her disability"

"TouNemu and astronomy"

"Memoriae Analysis: Touka and Nemu's personal and flower field memoriae"

"The Greek love styles applied to Touka and Nemu"

"Nemu's Buddhist Self-Flagellation"

Some smaller ones and guest essays will be put here:

"Touka shows affection like cats do"

"Nemu is a sadist" (the Ao3 version is much better put together)

"Touka has boy autism and Nemu has girl autism"

Content made by me or my project partner for the Magia Record Minibang (2024) is tagged on this blog as #minibang24 and content made for the subsequent one is #minibangEoS

My username on discord is also "nahikoate" and my DMs are open, but I will require that you state your purpose in your first DM if I don't personally know you. I'm always delighted to talk about these two more and hear people's thoughts about all of this or about my fics, so no need to be shy.

As for fic plans for the relatively near future, since some people are interested. "Wildly AU" means I got carried away with made up lore for a new setting of some sort, like the fairies in ACOSAM or the masks in Roadkill:

ACOSAM - current project, in progress, wildly AU

(Untitled) TouNemu Relationship Study - likely to be the next project, a longfic taking place throughout the entirety of the canon timeline

(Untitled) Golf - oneshot, in progress, canon timeline

(Untitled) Mother/Father's Day - twoshot, hoping to get it done by next year, canon timeline

(Untitled) Questions To Fall In Love - oneshot, in progress, canon timeline

(Untitled) Roadkill - longfic, folklore inspired, might be a series with some oneshots and one big fic, less wildly AU but still

(Untitled) Tempest - longfic, high trauma content, mythology inspired, wildly AU

(Untitled) ATLA AU - longfic, exactly what it says on the tin, Avatar Ui if you're wondering

(Untitled) Theater - longfic, somewhat of a murder mystery thing, AU

(Untitled? Idk this one's codename is nice) Sakura Ties - longfic, single parent/teacher AU where Sakurako is Nemu's 11 year old adopted daughter and tries to get her mom and favorite teacher together

No promises for anything else. You're encouraged to send asks about these projects if you're curious.

[biandlesbianliterature]

I posted 67 times in 2022

50 posts created (75%)

17 posts reblogged (25%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@biandlesbianliterature

@sapphicbookclub

@lgbtqreads

@lesbrary

@shiraglassman

I tagged 50 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#queer books - 38 posts

#sapphic books - 34 posts

#lgbtq books - 33 posts

#reviews - 26 posts

#wlw books - 23 posts

#lesbian books - 15 posts

#sff - 12 posts

#author of color - 9 posts

#fantasy - 8 posts

#romance - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 30 characters

#getting the band back together

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

143 notes - Posted March 17, 2022

#4

Ryka Aoki’s Light from Uncommon Stars is one of the best books I read in 2021, and it is also one of the weirdest. It centers around three women: Shizuka Satomi (a violin teacher who made a deal with a devil and must deliver seven violin prodigies’ souls in order to save her own), Katrina Nguyen (a transgender teenage girl, wildly talented on the violin and deserving of so much more than she has been given), and Lan Tran (a retired interstellar space captain who runs a donut shop with her four children). When Shizuka discovers Katrina in a park, she immediately knows she has found her final soul, but Shizuka’s growing feelings for Lan may change her perspective on everything.

If you think that summary sounds like a roller coaster, wait until you read the book.

Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki was reviewed at the Lesbrary

155 notes - Posted January 15, 2022

#3

Would you believe that more than 26 sapphic books come out this month? It’s true! Unfortunately, it’s not always easy to find out which books have queer representation, or what kind of representation they have. So here’s a big list of bi and lesbian books out this month, sorted by genre.

26 Bi and Lesbian Books Out November 2022!

217 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#2

If you want a teen romcom in an F/F YA book, this is the read for you!

It’s enemies to lovers and fake dating! It is very much like a teen romcom movie: the two of them get to know each other over their music choices on the drive. They have miscommunication. They both open up about their insecurities. Scottie realizes that, despite being hung up on her toxic ex, maybe the girl she’s been looking for has been right in front of her this whole time. There’s also the “only one bed” trope. They even discuss teen romcom movies!

I listened to this as an audiobook, and it was a quick, fun listening experience! It’s cute, and the ending is cathartic and sweet.

She Drives Me Crazy by Kelly Quindlen was reviewed at the Lesbrary

267 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

When I say I want sapphic romcoms, this is what I want. I want sapphic romcoms that pack an emotional punch. That present the diversity and the affinity of queer womanhood. That have queer women who call themselves queer with no explanation and bi women who have loved men. That have complex family dynamics that both are about queerness and absolutely are not. That feel like romance novels with romance tropes and everything that we love about romance and are at the same time fundamentally, intrinsically, profoundly, and lovingly queer. Romcoms that f*ck and also fall in love. Romcoms with real, wild emotions and feminism and humor on every page. Romcoms that were written for queer women about our own lives, to be enjoyed only secondarily by everyone else. When I say I want sapphic romcoms, I mean I want this book.

Delilah Green Doesn’t Care by Ashley Herring Blake was reviewed at the Lesbrary

275 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[oneirataxia-girl]

If they had a kid, Satomi and Miguel

ze struggle to convince myself to post this now and keep The Lore™️ secret for a little longer or just completely infodump is real 😭 also sneaky tagging @hiya-itsamber in case you wanna know more about stable Satomiguel XD

I’ll be going off their comic versions as we don’t know how the spiderverse continuity will go, so while Gabriella isn’t Satomi’s bio daughter, in the comics she and Miguel have two girls together! here is the older sister:

Name: Misa O’Hara

Gender: genderfluid, she/they pronouns

General appearance: short hair that she takes careful care of, her mama’s green eyes and love for red clothing and lipstick, tallest kid in the family (much to Gabi’s chagrin), a scar on her palm from when they crashed while learning to ride a bike

Personality: stubborn as a mule like her papa, also has Miguel’s mind for science, talks loudly with wild hand gestures, hates admitting they were wrong, soldier coded

Special talents: cycling (especially doing tricks), memorization (anything tbh, but she's best with chemical compositions), playing Mario Kart

Who they like better: equally, is what they’d say if asked, but it’s actually Satomi bc she is more present in the kids’ lives (they say equally bc they see Miguel through rose-tinted glasses)

Who they take after more: Miguel, despite her looks being much more like her mama’s, her stubborn personality and little quirks make her a mini-Miguel in many ways

Personal headcanon: Misa is so good at Mario Kart because it was Miguel's go-to when they wanted to play video games with him as a kid. so, Misa practiced a lot so she could put up a good fight and thus, spend more time with their papa

Face claim: Rita Farr

((for reference, here’s Satomiguel (comics ver)!!

[thewalkingplumbob]

Get To Know The Blogger 💖

Thanks for the tag, @akitasimblr 🥰

✿ show your wallpaper. My phone wallpaper is this picture of Ishihara Satomi, my favorite Japanese actress.

✿ last song you listened to. Konayuki by Remioromen

✿ currently reading. Obsession by Karen Robards

✿ last movie. I'm still in the middle of watching the Japanese movie Kingdom 2.

✿ last show. Raise de wa Chanto Shimasu season 3

✿ craving. Soda. I've had to completely cut it out of my diet. 😭

✿ what are you wearing rn ;) Comfy pajamas that involve no pants 😉

✿ how tall are you. A little under 5'6"

✿ tattoos. None

✿ glasses/contacts. Glasses

✿ last thing you ate. Mashed potatoes

✿ favorite color. Pink

✿ current obsession. Adult coloring books and gel pens

✿ any pets. A kitty cat named Sebastian aka Sebby. 💕

✿ favorite fictional character. Makino Tsukushi from Hana Yori Dango. She was tough but kind and stayed true to herself no matter what.

✿ last place you traveled. My grandparent's house lol

This was fun! I tag @sweetpyxels, @silverspringsimmer, @lazymblr, @ellemant, and anyone else who wants to do this. Feel free to say I tagged you!

[flashingmarkii]

[ *DASH : SPELL OUT YOUR URL USING SONG TITLES. THEN, TAG AS MANY PEOPLE AS THERE ARE LETTERS IN YOUR URL. ]

( i knew i was going to regret that long ass url. )

F: Flashing Mark II · Kei Wakakusa / it isn't cheating i'm just smart like that + i think the song i got my url from DESERVES to be mentioned. L: Laughter In The Rain · Neil Sedaka / IT ISN'T CHEATING I'M JUST SM - okay but, Neil Sedaka is a must on my Mel playlists. A: Academic · New Order / new order is also a must, especially for Araceae, i go straight to new order whenever i need my 00 muse boost. S: Starlight Serenade · Mami Yamase / i have used this one for Mel aesthetics here, i really like the lyrics and i feel like they're very her. ♡ H: Heavens Divide · Donna Burke / i could cop out of explaining by saying that donna burke sang a couple of songs that are in turn a gundam but also the lyrics from most mgs songs just fit perfectly. I: I'm Humanity · Etsuko Yakushimaru / it reminds me of newtypes !! N: Nothing Ever Goes As Planned · Styx / self explanatory. also fits the lore! G: Giniro Horizon · Satomi Nakase / come on man, it's GUNDAM X'S ENDING. i had to. M: My Boyfriend Is A Pilot · Mari Iijima / no further explanation is needed your honor. A: Ash Like Snow · the brilliant green / if i don't add this one i won't be able to sleep peacefully. i'm also attaching the official mv because it genuinely looks like a shitpost. i'm so sorry. i love it. R: Resistance · Muse / another source of inspiration for gundam muse in general ! K: Keep Quiet · The Protomen / what can i say other than Mel wouldn't exist without the protomen. I: Izolado (Isolation) · Sheryl Nome starring May'n / depending on which Mel you talk to she's either actually befriended Sheryl Nome or really likes her music. I: Itsumo Anata Ga· TETSU / besides the fact that i really like votoms, it's the series from which i draw the most inspiration from whenever it comes to writing ptsd and romance during war times, besides it's also a very Mel core song.

tagged by: @ofstarsandskies ( tysm for the tag !! we share the fate of long urls even though we picked them )

tagging: ( whoever wants to do this !!! i'm shy ok... )

[projecktgestalt]

Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfiction - A cold winter What if Gojo Satoru fell in love? - Part 2

"I... ah... I'm sorry about earlier."

-"Which part?"

Satomi answered. She was tagging along, walking behind Gojo. And she was looking at the ground beneath her feet only.

" The part where I kissed you. I couldn't think of another way."

-"I don't mind actually. It worked eventually."

"But don't fantasize about anything involved with me"

-"You're such a self worshipper. Why would I do that, you were the one who did that!"

"Just saying."

-"It's strange..."

"What is?"

-"Someone touching me so easily even when I'm nearly exploding. Without needing to worry about it."

"I hear ya. You've noticed my glasses, right?"

-"I have."

"When I'm with you, not only I don't have to wear them, but I must put them aside, It's usually the opposite around everyone else."

-"It must be difficult. Specifically when it comes to human instincts."

"Indeed it is. I can't just go around and sleep with anyone I desire. with my mind at ease at that. I'm at age you know, resisting these things is an overwhelming task."

-"So you're a virgin?"

"Of course not! Do I look like a virgin to you?"

-"No. Then What about me? Do I look like a virgin?"

"You seem to be quiet and simple-headed but you don't fool me. I can tell the difference"

-"But I haven't done it since my fears rose up. I've been too afraid."

"How long?"

-"Probably a year."

"Wow, that's long!"

Satomi made a sinister impression on her face.

-"Then perhaps I should give it a try with you? You're qualified."

"So that I would give you a chance to kick me in my balls and make a fool outta me? No thanks!"

She was disappointed.

-"Do you have eyes behind your back?!"

"I have eyes everywhere."

...

School classes passed ordinarily, and So were the training sessions between Gojo and Satomi. Day after day, they worked so Satomi could learn more and be useful to herself and others. What Satomi COULD do, was absorb and release cursed energy. Neutralizing attacks filled with cursed energy. she practiced absorbing what she chose and sparing what she didn't want. With that said, she started by destroying small curses by absorbing them all, she worked on breaking Gojo's barrier several times, breaking it into half, or even creating just a hole within it. Gojo hoped in the future, Satomi could even break domain expansions. If everything went well with the usual training, Satomi could even easily clear places filled with cursed energy, and absorb all the negativity flowing in the air. To do so, they started by visiting a hospital.

...

Gojo, Geto and Satomi. Three of them were together, standing at the front door of a hospital. Geto wanted to see this phenomenon with his own eyes. The target was big and such a thing had never happened at anyone's hand before. It was no longer a training session. More like a quest.

The sky was red and the weather was cold.

Satomi was insecure.

"Are you sure it's a good idea?"

Gojo:" It's the best idea."

Geto:" If anything goes wrong, we'll be here. Let's see the results of all those sessions."

Satomi:" But they're not over! anyway, I'm still not sure."

Gojo petted Satomi on her head and said:

"What have I told you about uncertainty?"

Satomi hid her face behind her scarf.

"My biggest enemy is uncertainty. And distrusting myself."

And then they walked in.

They chose the emergency room. that was usually the worst part. Satomi passed by and watched people in pain. she wasn't doing anything yet. just observing.

"Aren't you gonna do it?" Geto asked. eagerly waiting.

-"I don't wanna see."

She turned her back to everyone, headed for the exit, and raised her hand. Gojo, who was staring at Satomi, suddenly turned to see if they could see the curses disappearing. He knew she'd done it.

The pressure in the air lightened and there were no more curses at the section anymore.

Geto was impressed. He didn't think Satomi could have evolved this much.

But they were disturbed by a sound. Satomi was leaving but she fell.

Gojo ran to her and tried to help her get back on her feet when he noticed she coughing.

She was overwhelmed. Tears were dropping from her eyes. She couldn't stand well and she was about to scream when she blocked her own mouth with her hand.

Geto also came.

"What's wrong with her?"

-"She's probably exhausted."

"No" Satomi talked and composed herself.

"I've never felt anything this severe. all the pain. all the sorrow, the grief, the exhaustion, the regret... I feel every single  bit of it from the bottom of my heart."

...

The training for her to cease control over absorbing was over. Now Satomi was about to start a new season. Absorbing was something, but releasing the cursed energy was a whole other story. All the infinite amount of cursed energy had to be drained somehow. Otherwise, it would have leaked. In an unwanted way, leading to another disaster.

That was why she had to release it somehow so that wouldn't hurt anyone. One way, was to create curses and simply destroy them. Another way would have been channeling it to other jujutsu sorcerers so they could use it. But it only would have been useful during battles. And Satomi didn't have the slightest idea how to do so.

And last of all but not the least, she did use a reversed cursed energy technique once. She could invest more time to be able to do it again.

For those sorta things, for her to be able to fully control her abilities, lots of work was required.

Exhaustion immerged. But Satomi fought with everything in her power. That amount of absorbing and releasing was really hard to handle. And they were only working on creating curses. Because channeling and reversed techniques were on another level.

Satomi was doing fine. It didn't take long for her to do the basics.

It has been two months in total since she joined the jujutsu high in total. Besides Gojo and Geto, she still wasn't friends with anyone. That wasn't what she was after indeed, but she just had no talent in this kind of thing as well. Even if she wanted to take a day or two off, there wasn't anything she'd enjoy doing alone. On the other hand, she didn't want to go all the way to ask Gojo and Geto. Because she knew, she was just an outsider. Even if there were days to spare and rest, they would also want it for themselves.

...

After classes, as usual, the three of them were together. Departing from school.

Geto stood behind.

"Guys, I wanna take a day off. I have some matters to take care of. I recommend you do the same. It's been a long time and I think investing more time on the same things would be a waste."

"Here it comes. Another day alone." Satomi thought to herself.

"Actually I agree with you. We should take a few days to rest and plan our next move." Gojo replied.

"Maybe you don't have to be in charge of me anymore," Satomi said pretending to be happy about it. She just hated to be on her own. She had found her strength only within her companions. Didn't know how to do it in another way. But deep within her heart, she was worried that everyone was actually sick of her, and they were just waiting for a chance to escape her.

"Look who's so happy about getting divided from us! Child! People pray and wish to spend their time with me and Suguru. You're just so lucky to enjoy it for free!" Gojo said with a teasing smile.

-"That wasn't what I meant! And you're a jackass so full of yourself!" Satomi felt happy hearing those words. Once again, she was proven she won't get alone so soon.

Geto always enjoyed seeing those two fighting. It was the funniest of all.

"Alright. I'm off then. See you tomorrow. Have a good afternoon." Said Geto while he was walking away.

"You should head to your place too, Akira. Rest well because we haven't even started the hardships."

-"OK."

Soon after Satomi left, Gojo took out his phone and called Geto.

"Did she leave?"

-"Yeah, listen, just organize things a little, you don't have to clean my room"

"No way, your place is a mess. Are you going to invite someone in this situation?"

-"Fine. I'm gonna buy something for cooking dinner."

"Satoru, I still think you shouldn't do this. I know this has to be done somehow but I doubt that it's a proper way."

-"I can't help it, I have to do it somehow!"

Their conversation ended and Gojo went shopping. It seemed he was preparing a feast. For just the three of them.

When he got back and brought everything, it was time to invite Satomi. So he texted her.

"Hey! Me and Suguru changed plans. We're going to watch a movie together and dine at my place. Wanna join us? If so, then get ready and head here."

...

Satomi just got out of the bath then she saw Gojo's message. She smiled after reading it. Unlike her plans, it wasn't going to be a lonely day after all.

She took her time to choose what she wanted to wear. Although everything she had, were black and dark blue sets, the closet was full of different styles.

It didn't take too long for her to get there, but when she arrived, they had everything prepared.

"Aw, so you came. Just in time!" Said Gojo after opening the door for her.

-"Yeah, thanks for having me."

Then she walked in and got even more surprised.

"When did you find the time to cook such dinner?"

-"It was me actually. I even cleaned the mess his room had become." Said Geto.

"I'm gonna repay this," said Gojo, murmuring into Geto's ears while he was standing beside the door, welcoming Satomi.

"I hope I'm not ruining your plans," Satomi said while walking in, uncertain if it was a good idea to come.

"Don't say that, we invited you. " Said Geto.

Gojo was planning for something.

Geto, who did not even have a reason to help her, was very kind to her. At times, he somewhat reminded Satomi of her past brother. Satomi was even jealous of Gojo for having such a friend.

Dinner was amazingly delicious and they enjoyed it fully while watching a movie. Sometimes Gojo tried to predict the next move of the primary characters, but they were ridiculous and wrong. He was doing it on purpose, but it looked like Satomi and Geto teamed up to tease him over those predictions. Almost as if they were avenging themselves for being teased so much by Gojo.

It turned out they were a good team to do so. And all three of them actually had a good time together.

"I don't like this ending! I'm telling you, If the choice was up to me, I would have it the other way around." Said Gojo.

Geto: "What do you mean?"

Gojo: "He just got himself killed. What's in that ?"

Satomi: "But he sacrificed himself so his loved one would survive"

Gojo:" What is love good for? He was stronger than the girl that was why he wasn't the bait. If he lived, he would've been a lot more useful"

Geto: "But we humans do fall in love. It's in our nature, denying it won't make it go away."

Gojo: "It's just a useless feeling for us to never stop growing population! A trick!"

Satomi: "Have you ever fallen in love Satoru? I'm guessing you have not. How is having a favorite food the same as just having a feast on dead corpses?"

Geto laughed hard. He collapsed on the ground. Surely Satomi was pointing at all the one-night stands Gojo had. That was one hell of a comparison.

"You got him, girl!" Geto said in the middle of his laughter.

Gojo was losing the battle.

"Enjoy it Suguru, while it lasts!"

Geto stopped laughing. "Now he's threatening me!!"

"Be careful what you wish for, Satoru!" Satomi said making a sinister look."

"Alright, guys. It's late and I'm sleepy. Guess I'll see you around." Said Geto and then left.

"Oh my god. It's 11:00 o'clock?!! How do I get home at this hour!!!"

-"Don't worry I'll walk you there."

"No way it's too far away. I'll be fine on my own... But first, I wanna smoke. Can I do it on the roof?"

-"You're sky affection again? Yeah sure."

They left for the roof. Gojo stayed with her as well.

"What do you see when you look at the sky?" Asked Satomi.

-"Me? I see everything. I don't need to look in a certain direction."

"Do you even see those black holes scarier than your techniques?"

-"Nothing's scarier than me. I'm so much smaller than them with a fierce destructive power. Anyway, what do YOU see when you look at the sky?"

"I see beauty. What we see from down below, is only the past of the universe. Those stars may be long gone. But they're still beautiful."

It was dark and quiet. They didn't speak more. Satomi's cigarette burnt whole and then she took out a spray from her purse. It was a breath freshener.

"Are you done already? Thought you'd want more than one. "

-"Nah... I'm done."

Gojo grabbed Satomi's arm when she took a step to leave.

"But I'm not."

She didn't mind at all.

-"What do you want now?!"

"Do you remember that day when we talked about your true abilities and potential?"

-"I... Do?!"

"Do you remember what I did to calm you down when you were losing control?"

Gojo was getting closer to her. When he got too close, he put both of his hands on Satomi's shoulders.

Satomi's face quickly turned red.

"When I apologized, you said you didn't mind. What if I do it again? do you mind?"

-"What now, are you playing a game?"

"I'm not."

Then he put one of his hands on the back of her neck and held his other hand under her chin.

Satomi was nervous but she didn't say anything.

"I take it you don't mind then."

Then he gently put his lips on hers. and they started kissing. slowly at first, getting wild little by little. But suddenly Gojo stopped and took a step back.

"What's wrong?" Satomi asked. Blaming herself for crossing the line. Gojo was bold and everyone knew that. But she shouldn't have done that. And yet, what's done is done. so the only thing that worried her more, was if something else was wrong with her.

Gojo held the back of his right hand on his mouth and then softly said:

"I can't believe it worked."

He was thinking. so deeply he didn't notice Satomi's face showing a displeased impression. But then he looked at her again. almost screaming with joy:

"It happened again! you channeled the cursed energy within you again! That time it was an accident because basically, you were throwing your energy everywhere. But this time, I took it consciously. Easy as pie!"

Satomi got even angrier she couldn't hold herself anymore. She slapped Gojo as hard as she could.

Gojo didn't comprehend the situation immediately. He patted his face where it was burning from the slap.

"So you WERE playing a game! why didn't you just ask me? why didn't you just say so? Why would you go this far just to prove your theory?" Said Satomi while shedding tears.

-"But what if I told you and then it wouldn't work?"

"Then we would have found another way!

everything is a game to you, isn't it? And I've just become a subject to satisfy your curiosity, haven't I? I hate you."

She started running. running with all her strength.

"You shouldn't go alone!" Said Gojo watching Satomi leave. But she didn't pay any attention and left.

"Looks like I screwed up."

The night passed and daylight arrived. Gojo texted Satomi and tried to call her several times. But no answer. He thought to himself he'd meet her at school anyway so he gave up. But he was wrong. Satomi didn't show up even for her classes.

When classes ended, Masamichi asked to talk to Gojo.

"Where is Satomi? I couldn't reach her. Has something happened?"

-"I may have screwed up a bit. She's probably just mad at me."

"I don't think she's the type of person who skips their classes so easily. She's strong-willed. You and Geto should check up on her."

-"I'll see to it then."

...

Satomi ran all the way home. the only thing she was thinking along the way, was how she thought she made a fool outta herself. She thought it was so much better if she just played along. Pretending to not care at all. But how could she? She had become somewhat attached to Gojo. That was very unprofessional of her. But how could she ignore how attractive this man was. His appearance, his behavior, his attitude. Everything about him was attractive to her. Any girl would have fallen for him yet she was different. She had no right to pay attention to anything besides getting stronger and to stop being a trouble. She had no right to live on as if nothing had happened. As if she hadn't done anything wrong. And yet she couldn't resist this sweet temptation of feeling happy.

"Finally I'm here."

She changed clothes and went straight for her bed.

"I'm too tired. Guess I'll take a shower tomorrow."

She quickly fell asleep. And there it was. That nightmare again. That curse again. The one who killed her mother. It was in her room again. murdering her, several times. different methods. experiencing pain over and over, the intensity of the pain, made it hard to track time. But she woke up screaming and full of sweat. It was twilight.

"It's the same as that time... NO!"

She jumped outta her bed looking for the curse inside the house. But she remembered it wasn't INSIDE the house that last time. It was outside. Back to bed, too terrified to look outside.

"I won't let you murder anyone this time."

Her phone started ringing. it was Gojo. She reached for her phone to answer the call but... What if saying so about her nightmare, would involve him as well?

She imagined all the dreadful murders happening to her mother, and then Gojo, and Geto, and everyone. so she muted her phone horrified of anything happening to anyone again. Obviously, she was wrong. Gojo and Geto were so powerful they could've torn the curse in half with a single blow. But she couldn't think straight. She spent the whole day on the bed. wishing for some miracle to happen.

Finally, she remembered she wasn't that scared powerless girl anymore.  She could do it herself. remembering all the training she put behind, she found the courage to look outside. It was truly there...

...

Gojo and Geto were almost there as well.

"I told you it was a bad idea."

-"Stop these I-told-you-so-s you repeat! I just hope she didn't hurt herself."

"I doubt that!"

-"Was this a -"

Suddenly a massive amount of cursed energy got their attention.

"What the hell is that?" Asked Geto.

-"Run!"

They started running as fast as they could until the house was visible at a short distance. Geto wanted to quickly reach himself but Gojo stopped him.

"Look. our girl is doing her first battle."

-"Are sure it's fine to let her do this?"

"I'm confident." Said Gojo. he clearly was going to enjoy the show.

Satomi was outside her house in the open field. using every last bit of cursed energy within her to release the worst curse she could. She didn't possess the ability to control it but she didn't care the slightest. all she wanted to do was to exorcise that evil spirit.

Although the creation was almost complete it hadn't ended yet. But the evil curse suddenly recognized Gojo and Geto's presence. It changed the direction it was looking. Satomi noticed and looked in the same direction. She saw her friends there. At that moment the spirit jumped to attack them. That was when Satomi got even more terrified.

"NOOOO!!"

She shouted with her whole existence. That was a finishing move for the creation of her curse.

The evil spirit was halfway there.

Gojo was ready for a blow. But It turned to a pile of dust before anyone could see anything.

The curse Satomi created this time was powerful enough to make her shudder from seeing what she had just seen. But it was under no control, So tried to continue the massacre but Geto stepped in and absorbed it. A rain started. A heavy one. Satomi was frozen right where she was standing. As it started to rain, she started crying loudly. Gojo and Geto hurried to get to her but Gojo ran fiercely and precessed him. seeing that, Geto stopped running and chose to walk his way.

When Gojo reached Satomi he embraced her completely.

"Hush you crybaby. stop crying. what's so terrifying?"

-"That was the same.... curse... my mom...my mom." Said Satomi while she was sobbing.

Gojo hugged her even tighter.

"Why didn't you call us? you could at least call Masamichi sensei."

-"I didn't want... anyone else... to get hurt. like before..."

"Silly girl. We're the strongest. Nothing can hurt us!"

Geto arrived.

"Let's get inside. Otherwise, all of us will catch a cold." Said Geto.

Gojo helped Satomi and the three of them headed inside Satomi's house.

The boys undressed their coats and stood by the fire to get dry. Satomi went to change as well. Once she was done, everyone gathered in the living room. Satomi went to brew some coffee.

"Has she lost her mind? what would have happened if we weren't there?" said Geto.

-" She's very lucky about that. Aren't you, Akira?"

"I didn't care. I would've absorbed it back in the end."

-"But what if something went wrong? You would've get killed and the curse would've ravaged around." Geto said. He was in a bad mood.

"Don't pressure her Suguru! Let's just be thankful we got here in time."

Satomi joined them and sat on the couch.

"Have you calmed down?" Asked Gojo.

-"I have. Thank you." Replied Satomi.

"What happened exactly?" Asked Geto.

"When I got back here last night... I just went to sleep. then I had those nightmares again. getting killed by that curse over and over again. When I woke up, I searched the house and suddenly remembered the other time when I had that nightmare. It was going to be outside. I was traumatized. Everything just repeated itself in front of me... I couldn't do anything." Explained Satomi.

"Wait a minute... Are you saying the same nightmare hunted you again in both your dreams and reality?" Asked Geto.

"I fear I was right to have my doubts about it." Said Gojo

"What was that?" Asked Satomi.

"Me and Satoru... we talked about it when you told him your story. He was suspicious about it and asked my opinion. I'm afraid I was wrong to reject the idea" explained Geto.

"The idea of what? I'm not following." Asked Satomi.

"The idea of someone behind the scenes trying to manipulate you. Poison your mind." Said Gojo.

"Are you saying I wasn't the one who caused it to exist?" asked Satomi.

"The same thing twice? No. And besides, causing curses of that kind to be born is not that simple of a task to just dream about it, and suddenly give birth to it in reality." Said Gojo.

"And your ability is not creating curses as you wish, It's just an outcome. So you don't have any control over its attributes such as its shape." Geto continued to explain.

"But why would someone do that? I don't think I'm that important."

"You are gravely mistaken. Satoru, who is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of our time, is so powerful that his existence alone has altered the balance of the world. If we assume what Masamichi sensei said about you was entirely correct, and you were to be HIS rival, imagine what would have happened to our enemy." Said Geto.

"No Suguru, even if we ignore MY existence, Akira's very nature is the biggest enemy of all cursed energy in the world. Her existence is a threat to both sides." Said Gojo.

"Great. So we can't really guess who wants my head huh?" Said Satomi.

"We do know whoever it is that sent that curse to your dream and your house, knew about your existence BEFORE the jujutsu sorcerers found you." Said Geto.

"It would've been easier to just kill her" Said Gojo.

"It would be easier to convince the jujutsu society that I'm out of my mind, dangerous and uncontrollable. So they would easily and legally have my head FOR them. That was to be my sentence. Masamichi sensei was the one who stopped it." Satomi said. Then took a deep breath and picked up her cup to drink some coffee.

"Damn, I wish I had some wine instead of coffee right now."

"Is she suggesting there are some higher-ups involved in this?" Gojo asked Geto.

Geto was drinking his coffee too, so he took it as a chance to think.

"This is getting too complicated. Such a matter shouldn't stay between just the three of us. We must talk to Masamichi sensei about it."

-"Agreed." Said Gojo.

Satomi took a cigarette outta a pocket.

"Do you guys mind?" Asked Satomi, while pointing the lighter at the cigarette.

-"No, not at all. In fact, I think it's about time we left. We're dried. Aren't you Satoru?"

-"I am."

Satomi lightened her cigarette.

"I'm glad you came. See you tomorrow."

Gojo and Geto headed outside, but on second thought, Gojo changed his mind.

"You go, Suguru. I'm staying a bit longer."

-"OK, then I'll see you at the dorm."

Geto had noticed Gojo's affection towards this new girl. He was always watching his best friend, yet never saw him acting that way towards a person. Not to mention someone he was so unwilling to spend his time with, at the beginning of their story.

Gojo went back inside and Geto left.

Satomi was still smoking when she saw Gojo return.

"I thought you left."

-"And I thought it wasn't safe to leave so soon."

"You don't have to do this anymore. I can handle myself."

-"I didn't say you couldn't."

Satomi ignored his words and said no more. She finished smoking and ignored Gojo completely, she carried the dirty cups to the kitchen and started to wash them. When she was done and turned around, she saw Gojo standing behind her. Staring at her.

She turned her eyes and attempted to leave, But Gojo grabbed her arm mercilessly and stopped her.

"You know, you have the right to stop speaking to me. But I won't allow you to ignore me this way. Look at me in the eyes."

She was still refusing to look.

"Let go."

He held her even more tightly.

"Who do you think you are? You're not the oh-so-mighty Gojo Satoru to me!" Said Satomi unpleasantly and tried to free her arm with all she could and succeeded at that. And left the kitchen.

"Leave. I don't want you here."

For the first time, Gojo felt powerless against this simple moral girl. He wanted to make it right somehow, but he couldn't. That angered him unbearably.

-"Who do you want then? Maybe you prefer Suguru? Shall I call him and tell him to come back? "

He screwed up again. It didn't take a second before he saw Satomi coming to him, looking into his eyes again.

"There! I ha-"

He couldn't finish. Another hard slap came right into his ear.

-"How dare you? How dare you speak such things while you're the one playing around as he pleases? What do you want from me? I know I was a burden from the beginning. I knew it and I was OK with it. I tried my best not to be. But YOU showed me KINDNESS! And I fell for it. tell me, am I such an eyesore? Is that it?"

"An eyesore...? Huh huh. Ahahahaha..." Gojo was laughing like a demon.

Satomi got nervous again along with being angry.

Gojo suddenly stopped laughing. He savagely pushed Satomi to the wall and stood right in front of her, so close they could feel the warmth of each other's breath.

"Me, playing around as I please? What do I want from you? I've done many things to you but none of them were based upon what I DESIRED. You were indeed a burden to me... But…

You're the first mystery in my life, I can never read you and that pisses me off, and I can always look at you like a normal human being, and that attracts me to you. At first, I couldn't stand it. But let me tell you something..."

Satomi was staring into his eyes the whole time. Doing nothing but to listen.

Gojo even got closer to her and started talking in a low tone in Satomi's ear.

" What I DESIRE is to touch you, kiss you and fuck you. In fact, I want to fuck you so hard that I could tear you limb from limb."

Then he went back in front of her again.

Satomi was lost. She didn't know how to react or what to say.

The only thing she did know, was that she was aroused as hell.

"Tell me, Are you wet for me down there or not?" Asked Gojo looking amused to tease her again.

-"You're a demon."

"Oh, I know. Especially to you."

The talking stopped and other sounds arose. Kisses and heavy-fast breaths. Gojo was brutal. He probably has never been so wild before. Spanking and slapping, Yet he went all the way to make Satomi beg for it. He even tried his best to actually tear her apart, but the girl was stronger than that.

It took a long time. Both of them had waited far longer. So they didn't have any intention to let the other one satisfy themselves so fast. And eventually, they fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the middle of the night, Gojo woke up because of Satomi's voice. But she was asleep.

She was sweating so much. talking in her sleep.

It was hard to understand what was she saying, But Gojo heard one thing.

"Eaten from the inside."

He didn't know what it could mean so he just woke her up and asked her. But Satomi didn't know she was having a nightmare.

Part 2 End All parts are posted

[former-proffessor-and-policeman]

I can’t think of ideas for everyone but these are some Halloween costumes for the crew!

Kisa dressing as ele.os from the reboot me song series, this series is the direct inspiration that started the whole ai arc it only seems fitting for it to be referenced, alternatively Kisa would dress up as sayori from ddlc or the girlfriend from friday night funkin

Ag would have a Sherlock Holmes costume, it’s simply for simplicity and his interest in the morbid, alternatively he’d dress as lemongrab (3rd) from adventure time or viri also from the reboot me series, just to match Kisa, if he couldn’t Kisa would try to convince him to dress up as tours satomi from Magia record, there’s another costume idea for ag but I will put that one in tags bc reasons.

Shiina would dress as princess bubblegum from adventure time, it simply fits her no elaboration on that, alternatively she’d dress as dr victor Frankenstein from the original tale or a simple mechanic costume.

Rei would dress as sae nijima from persona 5, I wouldn’t say sae fits her personality but her voice does match how I imagine rei’s, I can’t really think of any alternative outfits for rei, maybe mistress fairagonda from winx the outfit she wears feels like it’d fit rei.

[princeescaluswords]

It is absolutely true that there is no rule about what people should or shouldn't write. However, it's not about rules. It's about results.

When I compare the number of tagged Bad Friend Scott stories to the number of stories tagged with Scott and Kira's relationship, I'm not saying there is a specific ratio that should have been maintained. I'm saying that these results show that the fandom is far more interested in making a Hero of Color into a bad person than exploring one of the primary relationships in the story, which happens to be the relationship between two characters of color. What I am saying is that there being almost the same amount of stories in the 141,605 total stories underlines a significant problem.

Your own statistics confirm it. There are nearly 74,000 Sterek stories -- more than half -- for a relationship that did not exist in the show. Their canon relationship is a minor one that barely attained friendship. Again, there's no mandated ratio, but the idea that parts of the fandom could find that much to write about a relationship between two white male characters who never even expressed interest in each other but very little at all to write about a relationship that went on for 42 episodes between two of the main characters is not indicative of bias seems to be on shaky ground. While, simultaneously, they could find just as much to write about turning the Hero of Color into an antagonist or a downright villain (contrary to canon)?

That's not hate?

There's no rule that people have to write about Scott and Kira's relationship, a fundamental and extensive part of the story they profess to be fans off. Of course not! But the truth is that they don't. It's just not interesting to them. But what is interesting to them is a manufactured relationship about Derek and Stiles, two white male characters whose relationship is at the most only minorly relevant to the plot and themes of the show?

That's not hate?

You made a point about the Bad Friend Scott stories is that I am neglecting to take into account the ones where he is redeemed. I am doing nothing of the sort. Even if we set aside the fact that most of these are based on readings of canon designed to delegitimize Scott in his role as lead protagonist and that a lot of them use racist Latino stereotypes (sexually obsessive, stubborn and angry, lazy and uneducated), it would still be concerning. There are 2800 Bad Friend Scott stories -- all of them are uniformly popular and you know it -- and yet only 18 Bad Friend Stiles stories. I know, I know, fanfiction is transformational! But then where are all the Bad Friend Stiles stories? Or the Bad Friend Isaac stories for that matter?

Why is Scott McCall singled out as the Bad Friend? If fanfiction was only about exploration and transformation, wouldn't there be just as many Bad Friend stories about white male characters, too? Why, in so many Sterek stories, tagged and untagged, is Scott the sole character seen in opposition to Sterek? If it was just 'someone has to be the obstacle' wouldn't there be equal numbers where Isaac is the obstacle? Or Jackson? Especially since Scott was one of the few characters to love both Derek and Stiles canonically, why is he so often chosen to be the one who is the problem?

That's not hate?

As for Derek Hale's Father? Here are some more stats.

Noshiko Yukimura (16 episodes) -- 503 works

Ken Yukimura (20 episodes) -- 288 works

Satomi Ito (4 episodes) -- 324 works

These characters, who are important to the story, who have interesting backgrounds -- and if you try to tell me that a 900 year old celestial kitsune, the human husband who tracked her down after divining her existence, and the world's oldest living werewolf are not interesting, I won't believe you! -- are less interesting to the fandom than a man who was never seen, was never referred to, and can only be seen as implied to exist because someone had to be Derek's father. Somehow, the fact that Talia and Satomi were close enough friends that Talia kept one of Satomi's gifts in her secret vault escapes their imaginations.

That's not hate?

And what has to do with Sterek? Your very statistics answer that question. It dominates the fandom to an inordinate degree. It dominated the fandom so much that conventions had to ban questions about it and the stars of the show had to beg off answering questions about it. Sterek shippers have not only made the entire fandom experience about a romantic relationship that never happened while sidelining or denigrating the actual character of color which the show was about (the absolute preponderance of post-3A Alpha Derek Hale stories should make that clear) but they have also felt entitled never to be questioned about whether that's a legitimate pursuit.

It doesn't have to be announced hostility. Sterek shippers looked at this show and said "the only thing that we find interesting about this show is something that didn't happen on the screen, and we will remain interested in that and only that seven years after the show has concluded."

As for fans disliking Scott McCall. They certainly could dislike him for reasons, reasons that every single time they explore them in meta posts, reaction posts, or fanfiction come down to things that other characters -- including the white male characters they do like -- indulged in just as much. How can they like Derek and Stiles and not like Scott? The show literally said that Derek and Scott were a lot alike (through Peter's mouth) and Stiles and Scott have almost too many parallel scenes but there is just something, some ineffable quality, that makes people dislike Scott that they don't have to explain and don't need to think about.

BUT IT'S NOT RACISM!

[sterek-roundrobinchallenge]

Chapter 1: There’s Nothing Better Than This

Written for @sterek-roundrobinchallenge.

Author: @fanfics-fix.

Team: #3

Ship(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Cora Hale

Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops, Alternate Universe - Human, Professor Derek Hale

Warning(s): none for this piece, i think

Summary:

Stiles owns a Coffeeshop in the campus of Berkeley. Derek is a new Professor in the said University. 

And Isaac knows both of them.

The apron he is wearing right now is a gift from Lydia, one that she got him for his twenty-fifth birthday when she finally realized that this was it, that Stiles had gone to four years of university to get a Major in Criminology and a Minor in Languages only to end up as the owner of Moon Bites. Stiles had been offended that she had taken more than a year to realize that, but given her and Jackson's turbulent relationship status at the time which had her attention torn to bits, he had forgiven her right that instant, lips quirking up in a smile at her approval.

The apron is a sign of her blessing, and Stiles takes great care of it, wears it only on the best of occasions or when he needs some extra luck. Like today.

Today is the first day of a new semester, and these are the hardest, even now; Stiles has had numerous dealings with frantic college kids who don't know their schedule or their way to their next class, all of them stumbling inside his not-so-little coffee shop to ask for help, and he still doesn't know the best way to approach them. He tries his best though; The kids who are rude in the morning warm up just like the sun rays falling through the floor to ceiling windows of his shop by the time afternoon rolls around, and he makes friendly with them every time, talks to them and eases their worries and fears. The Freshman kids especially, because Stiles knows how hard it is to be away from home for the first time ever, even if he could (and did) drive back to his dad in under three hours when he was in college. It's rewarding to make the kids smile, though, and he thinks he is doing an okay job with them.

Now he knows how Satomi Ito had felt, almost a decade ago, when Stiles, barely eighteen, had stumbled in this very same shop and she had practically adopted him. He'd been not easy to tame, as she likes to say fondly, but he is definitely her favorite.

Stiles sighs, nostalgia hitting him hard, and wishes that Satomi had never moved away; he misses her, but he knows the move was important. But then the bell jingles, announcing his first customer of the day and this semester, and he remains nothing but grateful that Satomi saw him worthy enough of her legacy.

Straightening his apron, he walks out to the front.

--

Scott McCall. A few weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday, the kid is charming, and Stiles instantly likes him. He is not frantic though, or even late for his classes. Moon Bites opens at six in the morning, and it's not even seven right now, and yet, Scott looks ready to tackle more than a few feet of books.

Literally, apparently.

Scott groans around the large black coffee he'd ordered. Scott had assured him it's not his favorite, but if he doesn't want to fall asleep in class, he needs this bitter elixir.

Stiles had asked what class this could possibly be, and that's how he found one puppy-eyed Scott looking up at him, groaning like he is in pain, and complaining about his stupid professor Scott hasn't even met.

"I mean," Scott sips at his straw, makes a face, and Stiles tries to hide his grin behind the desserts display case. "It's literally the first day! He could have waited, I dunno, a day or two or seven before dumping the whole semester's reading list on us?"

Stiles wipes down an already cleaned part of the counter. "But isn't this good? Your Professor sent you the whole semester's reading list. This way you can plan ahead, and if some parties throw a wrench in your plans," Scott snorts, "You can always make a new plan, because you already know what you have to read." Seriously, this Professor knows what he is doing. Stiles would have loved this man as his Professor, he definitely sounds better than the one he had for English during his time.

Scott shrugs. "I dunno, it's just overwhelming?"

"Ah." That, Stiles gets. "You'll do good buddy, I am sure." Scott beams. Stiles smiles back. "You're literally my first customer, so you're obviously taking this whole College thing like a champ,"

"Yeah," Scott sips at the rest of his coffee, and Stiles looks at him for a minute before he realizes that Scott's done talking. Awkwardly he shuffles backwards, and for lack of anything better to do, takes out his phone from the pocket of his apron. There's nothing of note in his notifications, so he simply scrolls through his phone for a minute before an idea tumbles into mind.

> Jerk Douchemore [06:57]

i hope your dream is filled with lizards

The reply comes instantly.

< Jerk Douchemore [06:57]

i sincerely wish your day is filled with crying children

Stiles grins down at his phone.

"Wow, what a douche," Stiles does not jump three feet in the air, he does not.

"What the fuck! Scott!" He looks at the kid with surprise, hand resting on his chest where his heart jackrabbiting inside. The kid just shrugs, like he hadn't just given Stiles a heart attack. "Don't do that again,"

Scott sips the last of his coffee, if the hollow vacuum noise is anything to go by, and looks at him like he doesn't get why what he did is wrong.

Kids are fucking weird, seriously.

Stiles just shrugs it off, sends Jackson a proper goodnight text,  and engages with Scott, who seems bored. He learns that Scott's mom is a nurse, and Stiles has, apparently, crossed paths with her numerous times; not surprising, given that Beacon Hills is a small town. Melissa McCall has a tenuous schedule, and so Scott is used to waking up early to make himself breakfast and do other chores to help out his mom. But here he has nothing to do.

"You can always take up jogging. I did that in my second year. I hear it is good for your health."

Scott makes a face. "Ugh,"

The bell jingles, signaling other customers. Stiles pats Scott's right shoulder and looks up to see one of the two people who made him start jogging in the first place.

The second one isn't here, and Stiles isn't yet sure how he feels about that.

"Great timing," he says, and watches as Isaac Lahey grins slowly and winks at Scott in greeting, sweat covered body clashing with his shining face and curly blonde hair. "We were just talking about Scott taking up jogging,"

Isaac waves at Scott, who looks dumbstruck—Isaac has that effect on people—and then moves towards Stiles' side of the counter. "You, Stiles 'I can't fucking walk another step' Stilinski—"

Stiles puts his hand on Isaac's mouth. Isaac, very maturely, licks it.

"Ew, very mature,"

His friend just smirks and walks towards the backroom, where he'll change into his work clothes.

"Ass,"

"He does have a great one," Scott murmurs, and Stiles is not too proud to say he'd forgotten the kid was still here. "He works here?"

Stiles internally sighs. Another heart, broken. Or it's going to be. "Yup, he is my manager, and painfully taken,"

Scott's olive skin darkens. "Wha- I- I didn't- I thought you were the manager!"

Stiles chuckles and shakes his head. The bell rings again, and this time, it is a group of three kids. He looks back at Scott. "I'm the owner."

--

It becomes a routine after that day. Scott comes in every morning, sometimes to study, sometimes to just talk, but mostly to ogle Isaac as he works. Isaac doesn't mind, but he also doesn't talk to Scott much, afraid of leading him on. Stiles just watches, and works, and listens as Scott complains: about his luck in love life, which is non-existent; about how he misses home and his mom; about his enthusiasm for animals, and how he hates that English is something he has to take; and finally, about how much he hates Professor Hale.

It's been a month of this, and still, all Stiles knows of this Hale is that he is stuck-up, rude, and a know-it-all who picks on Scott. Stiles doesn't know the Professor, he must be a new one, but he knows that Isaac gets increasingly agitated whenever Scott badmouths the Professor. Isaac hasn't said anything yet, or told Scott to stop, but Stiles knows he wants to.

So it's not surprising when during this rant, which is probably the worst they've heard yet, Isaac walks over from his perch on the other corner of the counters with a determined set to his jaw. Stiles scrambles for anything to distract him so there's no bloodshed, metamorphically speaking.

"Oh!" He says loudly, and the students in the shop all look at him like they want him gone. Even Scott startles. Oops. He lowers his voice considerably. "Um, Isaac, weren't you telling me about Cora? She did that thing, um, what do you—she and her team won the states!"

Isaac completely melts at the mention of his girlfriend, and talks about how she led her basketball team to win the State Championship. Scott deflates, but hey, in Stiles' book a little heartbreak is better than hearing your crush say mean things to you. And Isaac can be mean when he wants to.  

Stiles sighs in relief when his plan works, and walks over to one of the customers who wants a refill of his coffee. He wonders, though, how Isaac knows Professor Hale. Isaac and him have been friends since their junior year in high school, when his dad brought Isaac home after the horrible part of Isaac's life came to light, but still Isaac is a private person. Stiles doesn't push him to answer anything, ever, because he knows Isaac would come to him if it's important. Or if he thinks Stiles absolutely needs to know something, like how Cora has an older brother who knits and gave Isaac a Star Wars themed scarf for his and Cora's first Christmas with Cora’s family.

Apparently, this big brother is a real softie. Stiles would love to meet this man, and Cora too; they haven't met yet but according to Isaac, she is like a slightly taller Lydia.

Stiles really, really wants to meet them. But for now, he just watches as the various students mingle around in his shop, smiles on their faces, ridiculous stories falling from their mouths, frustration from the day’s classes melting from their bodies as the pastries and drinks make it into their stomach.  

Stiles doubts there’s a better job than this.  

[usermischief]

♜Pairing: Briles ♜Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Brett Talbot ♜Tags/Warnings: Mutual Pining, Party Games, Truth or Drink, Alpha Brett ♜Words: 4517 ♜Someone is jealous/hurt + "I never want you to feel like you're not good enough." (@raksh-writes) ♜ ao3

---

Truth or Drink

---

“I can’t decide if this is the most brilliant or the stupidest place to party,” Stiles mutters, trudging alongside Brett towards the abandoned distillery. There is a lot of nothingness that’s followed by the preserve. “It’s like you want someone to get eaten or murdered.” Or, since this is Beacon Hills, first eaten and then killed. As the resident alpha of Beacon County, Stiles really expected the werewolf would know better. 

But Brett seems more amused about that than anything. “It’s just a party.”

“It’s never just a—“ Stiles’ foot catches on something. Despite this being absolutely not surprising in the slightest, he’s got no chance to catch himself. 

Luckily, Brett has no intention of letting him kiss the ground. With ease, he catches Stiles around the waist and sets him back onto his feet. “I swear,” he mutters, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, “you could trip over your own shadow.” 

Now is probably not the time to inform him that tripping over his own shadow is basically a daily occurrence. Sometimes, Stiles is still surprised he graduated at the top of his class with the FBI. “What can I say?” Stiles tries not to squirm away because he still isn’t sure if he can handle all this casual intimacy. It’s so different from having sex with Brett — and Stiles doesn’t know how to feel about that. “My shadow likes to see me fall.”

Brett chuckles and pulls him closer. “I’m glad you came.”

If Stiles is going to feel the same way remains to be seen. Agreeing to accompany Brett to this lacrosse partly mostly happened because his dad threatened to drive him here himself. Ever since his breakup five months ago, Stiles made a point not to leave the house — especially after moving back home from Quantico. Beacon Hills is a wayward station on his path to figuring out where to go — and a place to wallow in self-pity. It didn’t matter how many people considered him smart and attentive, he still didn’t notice that his girlfriend fucked other people for more than a year. 

Stiles doesn’t want feelings. He doesn’t want a relationship either, but something threw a wrench called Brett in his plans. 

Stiles fucking hates it. Because his goal is to leave, and Brett can’t leave this hellhole now that he’s Satomi’s successor. This— whatever this is, it’s already doomed. When Jordan told him his caffeine addiction would become his undoing, Stiles did not expect it to be in the form of Brett fucking Talbot. 

Sighing, Stiles slips out from under Brett’s arm and walks the small path up to the distillery in front of the wolf. The music and voices are much more distinct now — they also come with memories of other parties; especially the one he finally caught his girlfriend with somebody else. His birthday was explosive, to say the least. Stiles grimaces. “I’m way too sober for this.” 

Chuckling again, Brett nudges him towards the door. “Don’t be so damn dramatic.” 

Dramatic feels like an understatement, yet again something Stiles decides not to point out. He also tries his best to ignore the pack symbol clawed into one of the walls. That’s certainly not a bad sign. Not at all. 

“Talbot!” A guy Stiles doesn’t know throws his hands in the air almost in a winning gesture. Turns out, this guy isn’t the only person Stiles doesn’t know. He wasn’t sure what he expected, to be fair. After all, he hasn’t been involved in anything Beacon Hills lacrosse for almost six years. 

“No way.” That voice comes from his left, and it sounds far too familiar. “Stiles!” And that would be Mason. Fantastic. “I didn’t know you were back.” 

Stiles isn’t surprised to find Liam right next to him. Those two are inseparable — and without their partners. That is quite the unusual picture. 

“Hey,” Stiles says, trying his best to sound excited to be here, “how are you guys doing?” It’s probably best not to mention that he’s been back for almost two months. Turns out he decides not to mention a lot of things. Then again, it’s not like he owes anyone. Unless it’s Brett. Stiles has told Brett a lot more than he thought he’d be ready for — even about the shit his ex pulled despite promising himself he wouldn’t bury that six feet under. But Brett is easy to talk to, and, if you know what you are looking for, just as easy to read. Even though his face seems closed off, Stiles can see the annoyance in the way his lips narrow ever so slightly.

It could have a lot to do with Liam, however, something about the way Brett places his hand on the small of Stiles’ back indicates differently. It’s a weirdly possessive gesture. Something he never really expected Brett to do. But he does, and that’s opening a whole other can of worms. Brett leans down, brushing his nose against his temple. “I’ll grab us something to drink.” He presses his thumb against his back before walking away. 

Us. 

Stiles blinks. Us. Stiles hasn’t been aware this was an ‘us’ situation. When did this turn into an ‘us’ situation? Sure, they arrived here together, and, yes, they have seen each other at least three times a week for the past couple of months. But just because they had sex — he’s getting paranoid because of a single fucking word, isn’t he? Brett is probably just being nice, so Stiles can catch up with Mason and Liam. He needs to leave this town as quickly as he. It’s already starting to drive him insane again. 

Well, it’s not just the town. It’s also being fucked over for more than a year by his ex. 

“I didn’t know you two are a thing.” Liam’s voice may be barely audible over the music, but his bitter tone is hard to miss. 

“We’re not.” His reply might have come too quickly if Mason’s raised eyebrows are any indication. Stiles gestures dismissively. “We ran into each other a while back—“

“A while back?” Liam echoes and his face goes through a lot of emotions until it seems to settle on irritation. “How long are you back?” Which really means, ‘how long are you back without telling us? And why did you tell Brett instead of us? And would you have ever told us?’. That’s a lot of questions wrapped up in a very short one. 

Stiles has no clue how to answer that without making it worse. “I’m not sure,” he replies with a half-shrug. That’s at least partially true. At first, he didn’t even plan to stay here. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. He wanted to see his dad and Jordan… and then he just didn’t leave. He quit his job, got rid of his apartment, and moved back into his bedroom. Working the supernatural cases for his dad while living at home helps him to save a bit of money until he’s figured out where to go and what to do. It’s not what he wanted with 24, but it’s still better than nothing. “I didn’t even plan to stay this long, so I didn’t even announce it.” Nobody would know he’s back if he didn’t run into Brett because Stiles doesn’t leave the police station or the house unless he had to do something about his caffeine addiction. 

“Other than Brett you mean,” Liam mutters, his tone again drenched in bitterness. It’s not like they’ve spoken a lot ever since Stiles went to college. 

Mason raises his hands. “Let’s just get a drink as well.” Without waiting for their response, he walks over to the group of tables that seems to be the makeshift bar.

Brett is standing next to the tables, holding two red cups, laughing at something the guy next to him said. His gaze darts to Stiles almost immediately, however, and when he locks eyes with him, a weirdly private smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. 

Stiles can feel his heart leap into his throat. This is bad. This is so fucking bad. Still. Stiles finds himself walking toward the werewolf and accepts the drink with a grin. “How drunk am I gonna be tonight?” 

Chuckling, Brett wraps an arm around his shoulders again. “I’ll take good care of you.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

The guy talking to Brett shifts more into Stiles’ view. “Hi,” he says, smiling almost uncomfortably wide, “I’m Gabe.”

There’s the smallest moment of Brett’s arm stiffening around him, but Stiles can’t really tell if Brett is pulling him closer or if Stiles is stepping further into the embrace. Either way, his shoulder bumps against Brett’s chest, and he’s suddenly very aware of the scent clinging to Brett’s skin; it reminds Stiles of something wild, fresh, and, strangely enough, a night spent at a bonfire. He likes it. To be exact, Stiles can’t get enough of that scent. “Stiles,” he says, more interested in his drink. The vodka is another thing Stiles can smell. He still gives it a chance and carefully sips on his drink. The moment the liquid touches his tongue, he grimaces. “Oh god.” That’s what he gets for letting a werewolf make his drink. “You could’ve just given me vodka straight.” 

Brett chuckles, tapping his finger against Stiles’ upper arm. “You said you’re too sober for this.” 

“That was a statement,” Stiles says, but he can’t help the quiet chuckle, “not a challenge.” 

Gabe points at him, continuing to grin uncomfortably wide. “You sound like you’re in desperate need of a round of Truth or Drink.” 

“I’m definitely too sober for that.” Stiles carefully sips on his drink again. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Brett is trying to get him drunk. But considering the guy is a werewolf, Stiles highly doubt he has any clue how alcohol affects humans. Let’s hope his Polish genes help him not to make a fool of himself. Then again, he can hold his liquor. So, he probably shouldn’t be too worried. 

“That’s kind of the point of a drinking game, isn’t it?” Brett quirks a brow, grinning in a way that really does not bode well. “Let’s go.” And with that, he drags Stiles towards a group of people already sitting in a circle. 

This is going to be great. 

“Move ladies, Talbot graces us with his presence.” 

The good thing about coming here with Brett is that people are mostly not interested in him. So, Stiles will probably mostly be a bystander — something that’s proven correct because aside from Lori, who is sitting to his right, as well as Mason and Liam, he’s hardly asked a question at all. Not that Stiles complains. He does not mind just sitting here watching all the other people giggle or make an ass out of themselves for either replying or not replying to a question. 

But people are getting more tipsy and the questions riskier, and Stiles just knew that his luck would run out eventually. Gabe cuts his gaze towards him — and something about his expression makes his stomach drop. “So, Stiles,” Gabe says, grin only getting bitter, “who’s the best person you’ve ever had sex with? Name some names.”

Stiles licks his lips. His gaze darts to Liam and Mason, and he really tries his best not to look at Brett at all. That would probably give everything away. Besides, it’s simply nobody’s business who he is and isn’t sleeping with. Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his drink. 

“Oh, come on! Really?”

“That’s the game, G,” Brett chuckles, nudging Stiles as he shifts into a more comfortable position. 

Tapping the rim of his now empty cup, Stiles considers who — he still hardly knows anybody attending this party — and what to ask. They seem to have entered the intimate partner stage, so he settles for something safe. “Mason, what was your last first date like?” 

Unsurprisingly, Mason immediately starts talking, rattling on and on about his last first date with Corey, and giving Stiles enough time to refill his cup — with a much better mix — and settle back down between the Talbot siblings. 

After a few more rounds, it’s Lori who addresses him. “If you could cheat and no one would ever find out,” she asks, without even the hint of a smile on her face, “would you?” Her hazel eyes are intense. It’s almost a little scary. 

Stiles hates the question, mostly because cheating is a seriously sore topic for him, and no matter how much he pretends that it’s okay, it still hurts. But it’s not like Lori knows she’s basically stepped into something. Stiles shakes his head. “No.” He’d rather die than hurt anybody in this way. “I’d never cheat on anybody. Ever.” 

For a few moments, Lori keeps staring at him. It almost feels as if she’s looking for the truth in his statement — or for the lie. After a few seconds, she nods and smiles. “Good.” That word weighs a ton for some reason, and her smile is weirdly relaxing. 

Stiles doesn’t want to think too much about it. Pursing his lips, he looks around the circle of people and takes a sip of his drink. He’s far from drunk, but he cannot deny that Brett’s vodka mix gave him a bit of liquid courage. 

“Brett,” Stiles says, leaning back a little to look at the alpha, “do you like telling your partner what to do in bed, or do you prefer to be told what to do?” They never really talked about what they liked and disliked during sex. It’s more a relationship than a casual hook-up conversation. But this game feels like a good opportunity to learn something new. 

Brett tips his cup back and forth, studying Stiles for a few prolonged seconds. The music is loud, but Brett’s almost inaudible chuckle makes Stiles shudder despite himself. When they lock eyes, Stiles wishes they were back at Brett’s place. Alone. But they aren’t, and it’s killing him. 

Smirking, Brett bends his leg and props his arm on his knee. “I’m dominant by nature,” he says, punctuation every single word. “If my partners are up for it, I very much enjoy telling them what to do.” Brett tips his head to the left, eyes roaming over Stiles’s face. “Did that answer your questions?”

More than enough. Maybe Stiles should go into detail about that later. “Yes.” Stiles nods, hiding his grin by sipping on his own drink.

“Good,” Brett says, and again this word seems to weigh a ton. Licking his lips, he looks up. “Liam, what do you think? Does size really matter?” 

Stiles elbows Brett in the ribs, fully aware that he’s hurting himself more than the werewolf. Those two are going to go after each other no matter how much time has passed. They’re never going to be friends, but despite Liam’s narrowed eyes, whatever Mason told him seems to keep him mostly civil. Instead of answering or snapping at Brett, he simply shoots him a dirty look, takes a sip of his drink, and continues the game. 

More questions are bouncing around. A few people leave, and a few others join them. People getting bolder with their answers and questions. 

“Stiles.” He has no idea why Gabe seems to have made him his target, but Stiles honestly isn’t the biggest fan of it. Either way, the guy seems to have way too much fun to stop. Grinning, he leans forward in an almost conspiratorial manner, “what are your thoughts on sex with me?” 

What?

Stiles blinks and opens his mouth. 

“Bastard,” Brett mutters, and judging by the way he shakes his head, he did not mean for anybody to hear over the music. But Stiles heard, and, for the lack of a better word, Brett looks pissed. He’s glaring at Gabe too, something the guy seems to be completely unaware of. For some reason, Stiles doubts they’ve ever actually been friends at all. Even Mason and Liam, who he’s never been all that close to, thought they are a thing. If Gabe were Brett’s friend, Stiles doubt he wouldn’t notice anything. 

Wait. 

Wait. 

Is Brett jealous? No. No. That’s just ridiculous. Why would Brett be jealous of a question like that? 

“Stiles?” Brett turns to look at him, quirking a brow. “Did… did you drink?” Because not answering this question is answer enough. Right? No. Unless. Unless maybe Brett is just— okay, this is getting ridiculous. They’re fucking. That’s it. There’s nothing else going on. Because Brett knows Stiles is going to leave eventually, and because Brett isn’t stupid enough to fall for someone as paranoid as him— or for someone who forced him into agreeing that they’re nothing more than a booty call. 

But they are, aren’t they? They ate dinner together. They watched movies together. They watched movies with the pack. They made breakfast. Stiles complained to him about work. Brett grumbled about his alpha duties. They talked about ex-partners. They text all the time. 

Fuck.  

“No, I—“ Stiles licks his lips and swallows around the lump in his throat. Shit. He didn’t mean to stare at Brett. “What… what was the question again?” Focus, Stilinski. This is getting ridiculous. Taking a breath, he turns to Gabe. Cool and collected. He’s going to tell the truth, he just needs to be sure about the question again. Before he says something stupid. 

Gabe smirks now, cocking a brow as he points at Stiles. “What are your thoughts about sleeping—“ he opens his arms, almost as if he’s some big shot “— with me.” 

“Not for a million bucks, buddy.” Stiles shakes his and takes a sip of his drink regardless, smirking a little as Gabe’s face falls as if he’s actually expected a different answer. 

Brett relaxes next to him, and he looks almost a little smug with his raised eyebrows and the way he grins before sipping on his drink. 

Clearly unamused, Gabe gets to his feet and leaves the circle without another word. 

Lori laughs into her beer. Yeah, there is clearly something going on between Gabe and Brett that Stiles is very much not aware of, but it feels like some form of rivalry. They’re just weirdly passive-aggressive about it — and it’s probably born out of some stupid lacrosse thing. 

Stiles forces himself not to read into this any further. “Jiang, what’s your biggest turn off?” 

Jiang scrunches up his nose for a few seconds then he shrugs. “Not sure, so I’ll just…” he trails off and raises his cup to his mouth with a chuckle. After drinking the contents of his cup in one go, he points at Lori. “What’s the kinkiest thing you have ever done during sex?” 

Lori doesn’t even stop to think about an answer. She sips on her drink and turns to her brother, looking right past Stiles with an unreadable expression. “Brett,” she says in a tone that makes her brother stiffen a little, “what’s your last text message? Show it to the person on your right.” Lori sounds like a woman on a mission, and Stiles has no idea why because he is the person on Brett’s right. Why would Lori want him to see a text message? 

Oh, no. No. He is reading into things again. 

Brett’s grip around his drink tightens, and for a few seconds, Stiles is sure he’s not going to show him anything. Mostly because it’s probably the text he sent Stiles when he was pulling into the driveway to pick him up. Still, Brett hesitates for a few seconds, studying first Stiles and then his sister before shifting a bit so he can reach his phone. After another couple of seconds of hesitation then Brett unlocks his phone and goes through it before holding it out to Stiles. This time, he isn’t looking at him, however, he is staring his sister down with the most closed-off expression Stiles has ever seen him with. 

Furrowing his brows, Stiles grabs the phone and looks down. It’s not the text message Brett sent him last. It’s a chat with Lori. 

>> No, it’s not enough. But I can’t force him. His girlfriend fucked him over. I just wanna

The text message cuts off there, and Stiles feels like he’s invading Brett’s privacy. But he gave him his phone. It’s basically impossible to only read the last text message. 

Stiles is scared to get hurt again. Can you blame him?<<

Stiles can feel his blood run cold. 

>> You know I’d never hurt him. I wanna show him off. I wanna tell people about him, bring him around to pack nights and shit. I’m ready to do whatever he wants to with him. Fuck. I can’t even think straight. I just want to be with him. 

I just want to be with him. 

Shit. 

Shit. 

Stiles doesn’t meet Brett’s eyes when he returns the phone. The silence of the group sounds louder than the music. Leave. Stiles needs to leave. Every fiber of his body begs him to stand up and run. He clears his throat. “Excuse me for a moment.” Without looking up, he gets to his feet and turns on his heels. Fuck. Stiles empties his cup in one go and drops it on a table. He needs to get out of here. He needs to breathe. This is the worst thing that could’ve possibly happened. 

Brett wasn’t supposed to catch feelings. 

He wasn’t supposed to give Stiles hope. 

Fuck. 

Pressing his lips together, Stiles rushes past a group of people, pointedly ignores Gabe calling his name, and all but runs towards the door. He can feel the panic set in again. The panic of falling in love before having it ripped out from right under him. Stiles is not going to get through that again. Especially not with Brett. No. Brett is— he’s different. So fucking different it hurts to even think about losing him. 

“Stiles!”

And that’s his cue to go faster. Stiles hurries out of the door. The fresh air is like a punch in the face. Yup, that first drink hit him after all. He stops for all but a second, squeezing his eyes shut to clear his head. When he opens them again, the world around him seems steady enough that he dares to hurry down the path they walked up only a couple of hours ago. It feels like an eternity. 

It’s at the end of the path that Brett finally catches up to him. “Stiles.” His fingers loosely wrap around his elbow yet they seem to root him to the spot. “Why are you running away from me?” Brett looks hurt, so fucking hurt that Stiles has the urge to throw up. 

He doesn’t want to hurt Brett. It’s the last thing he deserves. “Because…” Stiles takes a deep breath, trying to string the words floating in his brain into something coherent. “Because I think I’m falling in love with you, okay?” It sounds like an attack even to his own ears, as if all of this is Brett’s fucking fault — and maybe it is. “That’s why I’m running. I can’t do this. I can’t feel like this again, knowing I’m gonna lose it anyway. Fuck, Brett, I don’t even want to fucking stay in this town, what am I supposed to do?” 

Despite everything he just threw at him, Brett cups his neck, thumbs brushing over his jaw. “Just talk to me,” he says softly, not looking angry at all, “you could’ve said something.”

“Why?” Stiles curls his hands around Brett’s wrists, but he doesn’t pull his hands away. He simply can’t. “I don’t want to stay here. I hate this town, but you can’t leave. I would never ask you to either. It’s just not worth it. I’—“ 

“Hey, hey.” Brett moves his hands, cupping his cheeks now. “Don't just assume everything. You read the texts—“ 

“Brett, I’m a paranoid mess. I have a mountain of trust issues. You deserve someone better.” 

“No.” Brett leans their foreheads together. “I never want you to feel like you're not good enough. You hear me?” 

Stiles closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “You  deserve someone who wants to stay here with you.” 

Brett kisses the corner of his mouth. “But I want you, all of you. The good, the bad—“

“The crazy?”

Chuckling, Brett kisses him again, a little longer this time. “We’ll work on that self-deprecating humor first thing in the morning.” 

Shaking his head, Stiles leans back. Something about the way Brett looks at him clears his head — and makes him feel calm. He’s never felt this type of stillness before. But that doesn’t change any facts. “I don’t want to stay here.” 

“Then we’ll figure something out.” 

Stiles sighs. “Brett—“

“I said,” he interrupts him in the softest voice he’s ever heard, “we’ll figure something out. Please.” Ever so gently, Brett nudges their noses together. “Let me prove to you that I meant every word in that text message.” 

For some reason, Stiles has the feeling that ‘no’ isn’t exactly a word existing in Brett’s vocabulary — and he certainly isn’t taking it for an answer. Stiles leans his head forward, and Brett simply opens his arms, allowing Stiles to curl against him. Sighing, he wraps his arms around Brett’s waist, breathing him in, allowing himself to fall for him just a little bit further. Maybe… maybe they’ll figure something out. They have to figure something out. Because walking away now that he knows Brett is feeling the same way is going to hurt just as much as walking away in the future. 

Stiles takes a deep breath. 

He’s going to give this a chance. 

“So,” he whispers, tilting his head enough that his nose brushes against Brett’s throat — a touch that rewards him with a shudder, “you said you’d do whatever I want?” 

His question is followed by a short huff, but the smile is audible in Brett’s voice. “Somehow I get the feeling that I’m gonna regret that.” 

“Maybe in the future,” Stiles mutters, pressing his lips to the crook of Brett’s neck for a second, “but for now I just want something to eat and then go back to your place to figure out if you answered my questions truthfully or not.” 

Brett hums. “Sounds like we should grab some food right now.” Smirking, he curls two fingers around Stiles’ chin and tilts his head up. “Because I have a few ideas that’ll keep you up tonight.” 

Now, that’s something Stiles loves to hear a lot. “Good thing tomorrow is my day off then.”

“Oh, good.” Brett brushes their lips together in a way that makes Stiles’ legs go weak. “So, I can have my way with you tonight and fulfill your every wish tomorrow.” He paints every word against his lips, “how does that sound?” 

“So good that I’m considering skipping the food.” 

Brett barks out a laugh and picks Stiles up, throwing him over his shoulder quite unglamorously. “You’re gonna eat. Trust me. You need it.”

[garoujo]

UR TAGS ON DAT POST I WILL SOB .. i <3 u ;u; now its my turn hehe : satoru loves to show me pics of u guys . . like he’ll scroll through the entirety of his camera roll n it’ll like 95% be pics w u in them he’s soooo smitten >u< tells me stories of u && always peppers in how pretty u are [ he says it at least once every couple minutes pfffft ] it’s just :( so kwuit :((( also omgii maybe he accidentally flashes me a lewd pic of da two of u but we dont talk abt that >///<

sobbing so much ! u & tobio r just the cutest ahagahaj i lub u both <3 aaaaaaaaa satomie stuff from my most beloved ;;;_;;; plsplspls the camera roll im v_v so sick ! he is such a loser ! i want 2 kiss him so bad . not him slipping in tht i’m pretty help ajagaj my heart is so full rn ! THE LEWD PIC . omg so true ! he wud do this ajagaj n be like “whoops” why is he like dat i’m kicking my feet n giggling ! coco ilysmmmm this has made my whole night sob ^3^ ! <3

[magicalgirlsandcerulean]

Thanks for watching episode 3. Here's a small Uruu from Hatsumi Takahashi, the chief animation director of the everyday parts.

Likewise, here's one from Shouko Nagasawa. (This is a pun on how うるうる (uru uru) means "teary-eyed" or "damp/moist (skin, hair etc.)".)

Video comment from Balletta about episode 3.

According to Balletta, Uruu's name trended in the Kanto region during the airing of episode 3.

(Potential spoilers for episode 3!) Here's a video of Uruu's character song. Its name is 俺の心は雨模様 (Ore no Kokoro wa Ame Moyou, roughly something like "My Heart Seems Like the Rain").

(Potential spoilers for episode 3!) Guests for episode 3 were Satomi Sato as Iyo (who Hishida knows from Rilu Rilu Fairilu) and Soma Saito as Souji (who Hishida knows from King of Prism, since Saito is Yukinojo there). Hishida calls them "childhood friends" in his tweet because of his previous associations with them. By the way, this episode aired on Saito's birthday. Was it an appropriate way to end the day?...You can be the judge of that, after you watch the episode.

(Potential spoilers for episode 2!) Also, Niizuka's voice actor is Mitsuaki Madono. (No one mentioned it on Twitter, though...)

New image from Andgy. (This got tagged as "sensitive" on Twitter, so it's under a cut to be safe...)

Also, observations from Tanabe's Bar F entry (dated 17th April 2021, will contain spoilers for episode 2) under the cut.

Andgy's image (will this violate Tumblr's terms of use, or will it be flagged by a bot? Time to find out...):

Tanabe's Bar F entry:

"蘭丸は十訓botにw" - "Ranmaru's a bot for the Ten Laws, LOL."

Tanabe singles out Hori's reaction (giggling) towards how Homura can say such cool things with a straight face (referring to the things Homura said to help Shiina out in the first half of the episode, which Tanabe calls "wise saying time").

Tanabe thought, "Is Twitter okay with shots of Homura's nether regions?"

Tanabe puts a shameless link to Homura no Hana's video on YouTube at the end.

Takara makes comments at the end of every post, normally along the lines of "I-Is that so...?" or something like that. This time he went, "Y-Yeah, you're right..." It seems these comments actually come from Hori himself, because Hori tweeted, "To think Kohsuke would write such a long post...(′つω；｀)" and in the same tweet, he confirms he had the reaction Tanabe says he did. ("思えば2話の時からわいはｷｬｯｷｬｯしとったんやなぁww" - roughly, "Now that I remember it, I did giggle during episode 2, but you're accusing me of it? LOL")

Update: Typed a date wrong.

[selfawarejester]

triskele (j.t x c.h)

prologue (burn, baby, burn!) - cora

— Warnings: character death, vague descriptions of a corpse.

— Pairing: Jason Todd (DC Comics) x Cora Hale (Teen Wolf) [not in this part, can be read as standalone]

— Notes: Starting off the series with angst! This is promising. *evil smirk* Ah, yes, the Cora backstory and my interpretation of the Hale fire (because TW didn’t feel the need to elaborate on one of the most important, if not the most, events in the show.) Everyone who showed interest before is getting tagged below — hope you enjoy! I’m always open to feedback, so hit me up!

She remembers burning flesh most vividly.

Cora only left for an hour, going on a jog to cool off. Her mother had been furious about a fight she’d gotten in at school, but that guy was a jerk!

“He was picking on that asthmatic kid: McCall something! Did you really want me to just let that happen?” She yelled, stomping into the living room. The dark haired man on the couch eyed the two over the top of his newspaper before going back to it. Guess Uncle Peter’s not going to be of much help.

Talia sighed, doing that two-fingers-to-her-temple thing she hated. “Stopping a bully and tossing him into a locker are not the same thing.”

Cora frowns, crossing her arms as she drops her glare to the floor. “I only meant to shove him aside.” She bites out.

The front door slams, and a sullen teenage boy bearing an annoying resemblance to the woman in front of her walks in, freezing when his eyes fall on them.

“Is this about Cora beating up that 7th grader?” She squeezes her eyes shut as Talia groans, covering her eyes with both hands (and she swears she can hear Peter chortle) — there’s no way she’s getting out of this now.

“You heard about that too, cacchoro?” Talia asks, an equally exasperated and incredulous edge to her tone. Derek just chuckles, throwing his hands up in surrender.

“Oh no… I’m not getting caught in this. Besides, I have to meet up with the guys anyways.” He tosses his schoolbag on the couch, dangerously close to Peter – who hisses under his breath – and ignores the pointed looks his mother and sister send him. “See ya, mom! Good luck, Cor!”

“…stop snarling at me, Peter.” And walks out, slamming the door again.

She rolls her eyes — he’s absolutely useless, as usual.

“Mom-“ Talia interrupts her, holding up a hand.

“You’re grounded, mi corazón. End of discussion.”

“But I have soccer this weekend-!” Cora waves her arms, face burning but Talia just shushes her again.

“No arguments. Go to your room.” She growls, fuming as she stormed upstairs. And after waiting for all of three minutes, leaps out the window and running for the main road.

Run, run, keep running!

It feels good to stretch her legs, without having slow down for the human kids. It’s just her, the forest and the wind whipping her hair around. She keeps at it until her calves pleasantly sting and she’s panting.

Maybe I should get home — it’s getting pretty late, and mom is only going to get angrier then. It’ll be worse if dad gets there before me.

The route back to Hale House isn’t an actual path, per say, but every wolf in Beacon Hills knows it by heart. Of course they did: Talia Hale was the Alpha, after all. Any time one of the packs from out of town, they had to come and pay their respects to the leader. In its own way, it’s pretty beaten down — the kind of minor differences that only a wolf could discern.

“Burn, baby, burn!” She hears someone yell, laughing, and the sheer malice that accompany the words stop her in her tracks. Someone else nervously skitters about, and someone else has already started running away.

“M-miss, we need to leave.” She hears him speak softly – is someone… groaning in the background? — while the woman who was laughing slowly calms down to a few chuckles. Cora stumbles forward, carefully and quietly, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. “T-the police are probably on their way already.”

“Right, right, heh heh.” Finally, Cora can place that voice, the voice that would haunt her nightmares for years to come. Kate, that girl that used to hang out with Derek. Her blood runs cold in her veins as that smell fills her nostrils, and she has to clench her jaw to keep from her lips quivering, the sob from escaping as her imagination turns on her.

She almost trips and falls directly into the light when she makes it to the clearing she called home, feeling like someone punched a hole into her chest and squeezed as she watches the flames rage.

The other guy has fled, and now it’s just Kate and some hunters behind her, lounging against their cars, talking and laughing like they’re at a picnic, watching fireworks instead of her family burning.

She slaps her hand to her mouth, tears flooding from her eyes. Her legs shake, and all she wants to do is scream, to fall and cry for her mother, whose blackened body is in their main doorway, reaching outwards.

The pain and fear still hang in the air, even though her family is dead, mingling with her own. She thinks she can hear someone’s wretched heaving, but that might be just her. She can’t feel anyone, all of her pack bonds are shattered, what should she do, what should she do-?

“Hey!” Her heart stops and she scrambled away, feeling like her head was going to explode. “Did you see something there?”

Run, run, keep running!

Her lungs are about to tear apart as she sprints away at full speed, checking over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t chasing.

Coward. You’re leaving them behind, you left them alone, you should’ve been there-

You should’ve been with them.

She shakes her head, sobbing but never stopping. No, just keep running, get away, survive.

It’s an odd feeling, she’d notice later through the numbness of grief — in the guest room of her mother’s friend Satomi, who found her feral and out of her mind in the next town over and whisked her to safety, wherever — the feeling of letting go, of letting your humanity slip and your primal, base instincts take over. Satomi said it was natural for a wolf her age, especially after the trauma she’d faced.

Cora wasn’t particularly complaining. Those instincts were what allowed her to survive for a week in the wild, scavenging, hunting, escaping. Still, she couldn’t get rid of that little voice in her head, relatively quiet compared to the screaming loss inside but consistently agonizing, that insisted that she was only a coward who cared about her own skin, a coward that left her family when they needed her most.

A coward who had a fight with her mom. Who didn’t even bother to say goodbye to her father that morning. Who was fighting with Laura over a board game instead of telling her she’d miss her when she went back to college. Who, in her last time at home, wrote a note to Derek to inform him she was going for a run that addressed him as “Jerkwad.”

She presses the pillow to her face and wails.

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