#and idk if its like a getting older thing where your heart starts to feel empty

[andrwgarfields]

a lot of fans are talking abt how they’re jealous of yuzuru’s spouse and how lucky she is but if anything i feel jealous of yuzuru more for having found love and someone who understands him and is obviously patient with him and hes definitely the lucky one

[fvsm4x]

S1 E24 —☆ HAUNTING TOUCH

pairing ( 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦. 𝗫 𝗙𝗘𝗠 ! 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥 )

Looks like you’ve accidentally moved into a haunted apartment, and there’s no escape now! You’ll have to deal with Gojo Satoru—your pervy, invisible roommate who can’t stop teasing you in all the wrong ways.

c.w. Ghost ! Gojo satoru x female reader, oral ( f. receiving), satoru is a perverrtttttt, pantie sniffing and stealing?? Idk, nsfw, mdni, stalking, somnophilia, lovesick gojo kinda, reader is a bit stupid, Spectrophilia

word count. 5.6k

a.n/ TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!

Moving into your new apartment was supposed to be a fresh start, the beginning of something exciting and different. After months of searching for a place that didn’t break the bank and didn’t feel like a closet, you stumbled across this one: a charming, slightly old-fashioned apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. The rent was suspiciously cheap, but everything looked good on paper.

The landlord, a friendly but quiet older man, had seemed eager to get someone in the apartment, and after a quick tour, you were sold.

The building was old, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in just enough sunlight to make the place feel cozy during the day. The floors creaked slightly beneath your feet, and the walls had a few nicks and scratches that gave the place character. It felt like it had a story, something comforting in its age, a contrast to the sleek, sterile apartments you'd seen before. You loved it from the moment you set foot inside.

Moving day came faster than you expected, and after a long, exhausting day of unpacking, you were ready to collapse. You spent hours dragging boxes up the narrow stairs, arranging and rearranging furniture, and trying to make the space feel like yours. By the time the sun set, casting long shadows across the floor, you were too tired to cook, so you settled for ordering takeout. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes, you ate your dinner while scrolling through your phone, enjoying the silence of your new home.

The first few days went by uneventfully, though you couldn’t help but notice how quiet the building was. There were no sounds of neighbors, no creaking floors from above, no distant hum of conversation through the walls. It was peaceful, almost unnervingly so. You told yourself it was just because the apartment was well-insulated. Besides, the quiet was what you’d been craving after living in a noisy, cramped city for so long.

But little things started happening that made you pause. At first, it was just the lights. They would flicker every now and then—nothing too out of the ordinary for an old building, you figured. The kitchen light buzzed occasionally, casting a faint, uneven glow that was easy to brush off. You’d call maintenance about it when you had time.

Then, you started noticing objects in slightly different places than where you’d left them. You’d place your keys on the kitchen counter, only to find them on the coffee table later. Or you’d set your phone down, and when you came back, it would be a few inches to the side. Small things—things that could easily be explained away by the chaos of moving, you told yourself. Maybe you were just more scattered than usual, with all the boxes and stress.

But the more it happened, the harder it was to ignore.

One evening, you were washing dishes when the lights in the kitchen flickered again. You paused, hands in the soapy water, watching as the overhead light buzzed and dimmed, casting long shadows across the counters. You sighed, making a mental note to call the landlord in the morning. But just as you turned back to the sink, the faucet next to you sputtered and came on by itself.

You froze, watching the water gush from the tap, your heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you reached out and turned the handle, stopping the flow. You stared at the sink for a moment, your mind racing to come up with an explanation. Maybe the pipes were just old. Maybe there was a pressure issue. You shook your head, trying to brush it off.

That night, as you lay in bed, the unease crept back in. The apartment was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made every little sound feel amplified. You could hear the floor creak occasionally, and once, you thought you heard a soft, distant sound—like someone sighing. You sat up, listening, your breath catching in your throat. But there was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

You told yourself you were imagining things. Moving was stressful, and new places always felt a little strange at first. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… off.

The next morning, the lights flickered again as you made coffee. The buzzing sound filled the room, and for a split second, you thought you heard something else—a soft laugh, almost playful, like someone watching from a distance. You stood still, the hairs on the back of your neck rising as the sound faded.

You spent the rest of the day trying to ignore it, trying to convince yourself that it was just the apartment’s age showing. But that night, as you were brushing your teeth, the bathroom light flickered twice, then stayed off for a few seconds before coming back on. Your pulse quickened, but you finished brushing, telling yourself it was nothing.

Then, the faucet turned on by itself.

You jumped, staring at the stream of water gushing from the tap. This time, it wasn’t just a drip or a sputter—it was as if someone had deliberately turned it on. Your hand shook as you reached out to shut it off, the silence that followed feeling almost deafening. You glanced around the bathroom, suddenly aware of how alone you felt in the apartment. The air felt heavy, like you weren’t quite alone after all.

The lights flickered again, and this time, there was no mistaking the sound. Soft, barely audible, but definitely there—a laugh, low and teasing, as if someone was standing just behind you. You whipped around, your heart pounding in your chest, but the bathroom was empty.

You told yourself it had to be your mind playing tricks on you, but as the days went by, the odd occurrences became more frequent. Objects moved on their own, the lights flickered at the strangest times, and the laughter—always faint, always distant—began to follow you from room to room.

You tried to ignore it, tried to rationalize it, but the feeling of being watched never left you. Something—or someone—was in the apartment with you. And it wasn’t going away.

As the days passed, the strange occurrences in your apartment didn’t stop—they only grew more unsettling. Flickering lights became a nightly routine, always at the most inconvenient times. The soft, teasing laughter followed you from room to room, making your skin prickle. It wasn’t just random noises anymore. It felt targeted, like something was watching you, waiting for the perfect moment to make its presence known.

It started small. Your laundry, for example—folded and left in a neat pile on your bed. At first, you thought maybe you’d done it in a tired haze, but then your underwear, particularly your panties, would be laid out, almost displayed, as if someone had gone through them. Each time you found them, your cheeks would burn with embarrassment, but you forced yourself to dismiss it. Maybe you were just being paranoid.

But it didn’t stop there.

One night, after a long day, you stepped into the shower, eager to wash away the stress. The hot water felt amazing as it poured over your skin, steam rising and fogging the bathroom mirror. You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax for the first time all day. The warmth was soothing, but just as you started to unwind, you felt something strange. It wasn’t a sound this time, but a shift in the air, like someone was there with you.

You opened your eyes, glancing around the bathroom nervously. The shower curtain rustled slightly, but there was no one else in the room. You shook your head, trying to shake off the creeping anxiety.

But then the lights flickered.

You froze, soap slipping from your hands as the overhead light buzzed and dimmed. The room felt colder, the warmth of the shower suddenly less comforting. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed even though you were alone. That’s when you heard it—his voice, low and teasing, as if he was standing right behind you.

“Nice view.”

Your breath hitched, and you spun around, water splashing against the tiles. But the bathroom was empty, save for the lingering steam swirling around you. Heart racing, you reached for the towel, wrapping it around your body as tightly as you could. The voice—it was clear as day, but there was no one there.

You stepped out of the shower, still dripping wet, your mind racing. Maybe it was just your imagination. Maybe the stress of the move was finally getting to you. But as you walked toward the fogged-up mirror, you froze. There, in the condensation, a message was slowly appearing, as if written by an invisible hand:

“Nice ass:)”

You gasped, backing away from the mirror, clutching the towel to your chest. The message blurred as the steam started to dissipate, but the message was clear. Someone—something—was here. And it wasn’t just watching.

It was playing with you.

Over the next few days, the incidents escalated. You’d come home to find your dresser drawers open, your panties scattered across the floor like someone had gone through them. The first time, you thought you’d left them out yourself, but the way they were laid out—so deliberate—made your stomach turn. Then there were the bathroom moments—whenever you showered, you’d feel that same eerie presence, like eyes lingering on your body, watching, waiting.

The laughter grew louder, more distinct, as if whoever—or whatever—it was, was enjoying your discomfort. At night, you’d feel your sheets shifting slightly, like someone was tugging at them from the foot of the bed. You’d sit up, heart pounding, only to find nothing but empty air. But the sensation—the feeling of being watched, of being toyed with—never left you.

Then, one particularly quiet evening, you were changing out of your work clothes— when you felt it again—the shift in the air, the invisible presence that seemed to hover just over your shoulder. You were halfway through pulling on your pajamas when the lights flickered, and a low, familiar voice whispered into your ear:

“Why don’t you leave the pajamas off this time?”

You gasped, pulling your shirt over your head in a rush, your face flushing hot with a mixture of shock and humiliation. But that teasing laughter filled the room again, like whoever was haunting you was enjoying every second of your reaction.

The worst part? A small, nagging part of you was starting to wonder—what if this wasn’t a dream? What if you really weren’t alone in this apartment? And worse, what if he wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon?

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding heart, the events of the previous night replaying in your mind. Had it all really happened? The flickering lights, the teasing whispers—it felt too surreal to fully grasp. You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of a restless night. After a quick breakfast, you left for work, determined to brush it all aside.

But as you stepped into the bustling city, the lingering feeling of unease trailed behind you like a shadow. You couldn’t shake the thought that something—or someone—was watching you. Each time you caught a glimpse of a stranger on the street, your heart would race, but you’d quickly remind yourself that it was just your imagination. There were no ghosts lurking in the corners of your life; this was just an old building with some quirks.

Yet, as the day went on, your thoughts kept drifting back to the apartment. You couldn’t concentrate on your work, your mind wandering to the strange occurrences. Maybe you should call the landlord about the lights, or even consider looking for a new place. But the thought of starting over again, packing up all your things for the second time in a few weeks, felt daunting. You sighed, trying to focus on the tasks at hand, but it was no use.

When you finally returned home, the apartment felt eerily quiet, as it had for the past week. The sunlight was fading, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever awaited you in the shadows.

As you moved through the rooms, you noticed your laundry basket had been knocked over, clothes scattered across the floor. Your heart sank. Had you left it like that? Or had someone—or something—done it for you? You knelt to pick up your clothes, feeling a chill race down your spine as you gathered your things.

“Okay, this is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself. “It’s just an old building. There’s nothing to be scared of.”

But as you stood up, a flicker of movement caught your eye. You turned sharply, only to find the bathroom light flickering ominously. Your pulse quickened, and a wave of anxiety washed over you. You took a cautious step toward the bathroom, but before you could reach for the doorknob, the light stopped flickering, plunging the room into darkness.

“Really?” you said, forcing a laugh, trying to convince yourself that this was all just a trick of the mind. You opened the door, peering inside, and noticed the steam lingering in the air, as if someone had just taken a shower.

“Great, now I’m imagining things,” you muttered, shaking your head as you flicked the switch, and the light flickered back on, illuminating the room. You moved to the sink, splashing some water on your face, trying to ground yourself in reality.

Suddenly, a cold breeze brushed against your neck, sending a shiver through you. You spun around, heart racing, but there was no one there. You rolled your eyes, scolding yourself for being jumpy.

“Get a grip,” you whispered, taking a deep breath. You closed your eyes for a moment, leaning against the cool sink, letting the water run. The sound of the water was soothing, but just as you started to relax, you heard it again—the low, teasing laugh echoing off the tiles.

“Why do you keep pretending you’re alone?” the voice came, a soft whisper that sent chills down your spine. It was unmistakably playful, dripping with a teasing quality that made your skin prickle.

You froze, eyes wide as you scanned the room for the source of the voice. “Who’s there?” you asked, but the only response was the echo of your voice bouncing off the bathroom walls.

The air grew thick with tension, and you stepped back, your pulse pounding in your ears. “This isn’t funny!” you shouted, though the sound felt hollow, almost weak in the empty space.

“Not funny? I think it’s hilarious,” the voice replied, the amusement clear in its tone. “I love watching you squirm.”

Your breath hitched as a wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. Was someone—something—really watching you? The realization sent a shiver down your spine, and you stepped out of the bathroom, retreating into the safety of your living room.

But as you turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of movement in your peripheral vision. You whipped around just in time to see a flicker of white—was that a figure?—before it disappeared. Your heart raced, and you fought the urge to scream. You were alone, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t.

“I know you’re there!” you called out, trying to sound brave, though your voice wavered slightly. “Show yourself!”

In response, the only sound that met your challenge was a soft, breathy laughter that echoed through the apartment, taunting you from the shadows. You took a shaky step back, your heart racing as you glanced around, the flickering lights dimming again and casting eerie shapes that danced along the walls.

The silence that followed felt heavy, almost oppressive, and you could sense the presence lingering just out of sight. A chill raced down your spine, and you couldn’t help but feel that he was watching you, delighting in your unease. The knowledge that you weren’t alone gnawed at the edges of your mind, both thrilling and terrifying.

Eventually, you managed to muster the courage to retreat to your bedroom. You turned off the light, hoping to banish the creeping dread that had settled in your chest. As you slipped into your pajamas, you tried to convince yourself that this was all just a figment of your imagination—a bad dream that would dissipate with the morning light.

But as you jumped under the covers, cocooning yourself in the warm fabric, the shadows seemed to close in around you. You closed your eyes tightly, willing yourself to fall asleep and hoping that when you woke, everything would be back to normal.

As you lay in bed, the tension of the evening began to fade, your eyelids growing heavy. The soft rhythm of your breathing filled the silence of the room, and you felt yourself slipping into a dreamless sleep, the haunting presence momentarily forgotten.

But as the night deepened, a cool draft swept through the room, carrying with it an almost palpable energy. The covers at your feet began to stir, slowly pushed aside by an unseen force. You stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips, but you didn’t wake.

Gojo, unseen but very much present, hovered just above your bed, his gaze fixed on your peaceful form. The way the soft glow of the moonlight illuminated your features made his heart race with an intensity he hadn’t expected. He watched, entranced, as you slept, your chest rising and falling rhythmically, your hair spilling over the pillow like a dark waterfall.

Unable to resist, he reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your cheek. The warmth of your skin sent a thrill through him, and he admired how serene you looked, completely unaware of his presence. He traced a finger along your jawline, careful not to disturb you, savoring the softness beneath his touch.

His fingers then moved down, grazing over your stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall as you breathed. He marveled at the way your body seemed to relax into the sheets, completely trusting and vulnerable. With each touch, he felt an intoxicating mix of desire and reverence, appreciating the intimate moment without wanting to push too far.

He continued to explore, his fingers trailing to your waist, brushing against the fabric of your pajamas. The urge to pull you closer—to bridge the gap between the living and the dead—was overwhelming, but he held himself back, content to admire from a distance. The thrill of his touch, though fleeting, made his heart race, and he found himself captivated by the way you responded to his gentle caresses, even in your sleep.

Gojo continued to trace the delicate curves of your body, he felt an overwhelming surge of desire wash over him. The way you lay there, so innocent and unguarded, ignited something deep within him—an intense craving that surged like a tide. His heart raced as he let his fingers linger on your waist, the warmth of your skin contrasting sharply with his cold touch.

He bit his lip, trying to suppress the instinctual urge to claim you. But the sight of you sprawled across the sheets, completely unaware of his presence, stirred something primal within him. It was maddening; every time he looked at you, a rush of lust clouded his thoughts. He shifted slightly, feeling his body react involuntarily to the intoxicating combination of desire and admiration.

Gojo’s breath hitched as he fought to maintain control, his gaze tracing over your form, lingering on the way your body rose and fell with each breath. The fabric of your pajamas hugged you in all the right places, teasing him with the promise of what lay beneath. The mere thought of how easily he could pull those soft fabrics away made his pulse quicken, and he felt himself hardening at the thought.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured to himself, a hint of desperation lacing his tone. The tension in the air felt electric, charged with unspoken possibilities. His hand drifted lower, fingertips brushing along the soft material of your pajama top, teasing the edge of the hem as if tempted to explore further.

Every part of him wanted to surrender to the desire that throbbed in his chest, to take you right then and there. But he held back, reveling in the sheer thrill of the moment. Watching you, the way you sighed softly in your sleep, sent shivers through him, both thrilling and torturous. He knew he should stop, but the more he watched, the more he felt himself losing control.

His hand ventured lower, brushing the edge of your pajama pants, the fabric soft beneath his fingertips. The contact sent a rush of warmth through him, and he couldn't help but marvel at how delicate you seemed, wrapped up in the cocoon of your blankets. His fingers lingered just above the waistband, hesitant yet curious, feeling the gentle curve of your hips.

With each slow movement, he could feel the heat radiating from your skin, intoxicating him further. He traced the outline of your body, the subtle dips and rises that made you uniquely you, savoring the sensation of your warmth beneath his touch. You shifted slightly in your sleep, a soft sigh escaping your lips as if responding to his caress, igniting a thrill deep within him.

He hesitated for a moment, the line between admiration and temptation blurring in the shadows of the room. As his fingers inched closer to your skin, he felt a mix of excitement and restraint. He wanted to touch you, to explore the contours of your body fully, yet there was a profound respect for your innocence, a desire to revel in the moment without overstepping boundaries.

The fabric of your pajama pants was thin, and he could almost feel the warmth of your skin just beneath it. He let his fingers trail along the edge, teasingly close to crossing that invisible line. The sensation of his touch made the air thick with tension, electric and charged, as if the very atmosphere around you was aware of the forbidden intimacy unfolding in the dark. He slowly pushed your pants down—carefully to not wake you up

As your pants slipped down to your ankles and fell to the floor, the cool air kissed your skin, stirring you from the depths of your dreams. In your slumber, you remained blissfully unaware, lost in a world where nothing could touch you.

Gojo’s hand moved with practiced ease, slipping around your thighs and gently coaxing them apart. The sensation was electric, even in your sleep, as if some part of you sensed the shift in the atmosphere. His touch was teasing, almost reverent, as he revealed the delicate blue panties you wore, adorned with a tiny bow at the front.

The fabric clung to your folds, accentuating the softness of your skin. A subtle dampness had formed between your folds, making the material slightly sheer, hinting at your body's response to his presence. It was a testament to the tension that crackled in the air, as he admired the way the panties hugged you perfectly, creating a contrast that was both innocent and alluring.

Gojo's gaze was fixed on you, his expression a mixture of desire and fascination. He reveled in the sight of you, so trusting and vulnerable in your sleep, completely unaware of his hungry admiration.

Gojo breathed out heavily, a small smirk forming at his lips as he grinned. “Someone must be having a great dream,” he thought to himself, his amusement mixing with a thrill of desire. Slowly, he let his fingertip glide over the wet spot, the material yielding slightly under his touch, sending a jolt of excitement through him.

You stirred slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you instinctively shifted deeper into the warmth of your blankets. In that moment, Gojo took the opportunity to slip your panties to the side, his breath catching as your skin was revealed to him. The sight was intoxicating, and he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you looked, even in your slumber.

Leaning in closer, he lowered himself onto his elbows, his nose brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh. He inhaled deeply, drawn in by your sweet, intoxicating scent that enveloped him like a warm embrace. It was fresh and alluring, igniting a primal urge within him that he struggled to contain.

The temptation became too much to bear; he felt himself losing control. His tongue flicked out, brushing against your warm skin, and you instinctively arched into him, a soft whimper escaping your mouth as your subconscious recognized the sensation. The initial touch of his wet tongue against you sent shockwaves of heat spiraling through your body, stirring you from your dreams.

As you began to wake, you felt a warm rush in your lower stomach, a heat building that made you blush even more. Your eyes fluttered open, confusion mingling with a strange sense of desire. The realization of what was happening hit you like a bolt of lightning, and you shot upright, your hand instinctively tangling in Gojo’s hair as your body reacted to the sensations he was creating.

You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat as his tongue expertly flicked against your sensitive skin, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. It was a mix of surprise and undeniable pleasure, and you couldn’t help but moan softly, the sound escaping before you could stop it.

Gojo’s heart raced at the sound, his instincts driving him further into the moment as he continued to explore, tasting you with a fervor that only intensified your reaction.

Your heart raced as you tugged on his hair, a mix of confusion and overwhelming desire coursing through you. Gojo responded to your pull, the sensation igniting a fire in him as he continued his ministrations, licking and teasing with an expert touch. You gasped, the sound echoing softly in the dim light of the room, a testament to the intensity of your awakening.

You were torn between pleasure and confusion, your mind racing to comprehend the whirlwind of sensations and the reality of the situation. Who was this man? How did he get into your apartment? You had convinced yourself that the flickering lights and eerie shadows were mere figments of your imagination, a result of moving into a new place. Yet, here he was—intimate and insistent, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

“W-What’s happening?” you stammered, still gripping his hair as your body betrayed your mind, yearning for more despite the chaotic thoughts swirling around. “Who are you?”

Gojo paused for a moment, his blue eyes locking onto yours, a mixture of amusement and hunger dancing in their depths. “I’m your roommate who is enjoying the view,” he said with a teasing smile, leaning in closer, making your breath hitch.

“A roommate?” You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of pleasure clouding your thoughts. “I don‘t have a roommate! I live here alone..”

His laughter echoed softly in the room, a sound that sent another shiver of confusion down your spine. “You really think you’re alone in this apartment?” he replied, his voice low and playful, as if he reveled in your bewilderment. “I’ve been here all along, I thought that was obvious cause i spoke to you”

As the weight of his words sank in, the unease in your stomach twisted. The flickering lights, the shadows that danced along the walls—they suddenly felt more significant. Was it possible that you had unknowingly welcomed him into your life, this alluring presence who now had you caught in a web of confusion and desire?

You opened your mouth to protest, to question further, but another wave of pleasure washed over you as he resumed his teasing, his tongue flicking against your most sensitive spots. You felt the tension coiling tighter, each flick sending waves of heat crashing over you, making it hard to think straight.

“Don’t think too hard,” Gojo murmured, his voice dripping with mischief. “Just enjoy the moment. ”

His words twisted in your mind. You had never considered wanting something like this. The mixture of fear and pleasure churned within you, creating a heady cocktail that left you dizzy. “No, I—” you started, but the protest faltered as his tongue continued its wicked dance, sending another gasp from your lips

He looked up at you with an impish grin, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You smell so good.. I couldn’t help myself.”

The playful tone in his voice only heightened the tension. You felt a blush creeping across your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something intoxicating that made you want to lean into him. The softness of your sheets contrasted with the heat building between your legs, and you could hardly think straight.

As he continued to work his tongue, you couldn’t help but arch your back, instinctively seeking more of that delightful sensation. Each flick and swirl of his tongue ignited every nerve ending in your body, drawing soft moans from your lips. It was as if he had uncovered a hidden part of you that yearned to be explored.

“Does it feel good?” Gojo asked teasingly, pausing for just a moment to allow you to respond, his breath tickling your skin.

You could only nod, a desperate sound escaping you as the tension inside you coiled tighter. The world around you faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of you in this charged moment. He watched you with a hungry gaze, taking in every reaction, every sigh, as if he were memorizing your body’s responses.

“Just relax,” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm that only added to the pleasure. “You’re so pretty”

With that, he resumed his teasing, his focus unwavering. You surrendered to the sensations washing over you, losing yourself in the warmth and intimacy of the moment, every heartbeat echoing the unspoken connection that lingered in the air.

A low moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as his tongue slipped inside you. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of heat radiating through your body. Your fingers instinctively tightened their grip on his soft, white hair, tugging at the strands as your hips bucked involuntarily in response to the maddening rhythm he set. Each flick of his tongue sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

Gojo’s presence was both commanding and teasing, his movements deliberate, savoring every reaction he drew from you. He pulled away momentarily, the cool air of the room brushing against your heated skin, and your eyes fluttered open just in time to meet his gaze. Those piercing blue eyes were filled with a dark amusement, a predatory gleam in them that made your pulse quicken.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring something rare and precious. The words sent a shiver down your spine, the heat inside you pooling deeper, igniting a fire that you couldn’t control. Before you could respond, his mouth was on you again, more insistent this time, his tongue working with a skill that left you trembling.

The room around you seemed to fade, the only thing anchoring you to reality being the intensity of the moment. Every nerve in your body felt alive, hyperaware of his every touch, every subtle shift. Your hands clutched his hair even tighter, a quiet whimper escaping you as you felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in your core.

You could barely form a coherent thought, lost in the sensation as he continued his assault on your senses. With each pass of his tongue, the pressure built until it became unbearable, and then, like a wave crashing over you, the release came in an overwhelming rush.

Your body arched, your breath catching as the climax tore through you, leaving you gasping for air. For a moment, time seemed to stop, your senses overloaded with the heat, the electricity, the overwhelming pleasure that left you shaking. He didn’t stop, though—his eyes never leaving yours, watching as you unraveled beneath him, fully aware of the power he held over you.

Your body finally relaxed, sinking back into the bed as the aftershocks rippled through you, your grip on his hair loosening. Gojo lifted his head, his lips glistening with evidence of what he’d just done, and that smirk returned, lazy and satisfied.

As your breathing slowly returned to normal, your body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened, you blinked your eyes open. The warmth of what had just transpired lingered in the air, but something was missing. The weight of his presence—his hands, his body, the heat of his breath against your skin—had vanished.

You lifted your head, blinking through the dim light of the room. Where was he? Your heart pounded, a mix of confusion and unease settling in. You were sure you hadn’t imagined it—every touch had felt so real, so intense—but now, he was gone. Completely.

You sat up slowly, the sheets rustling as you scanned the room. The lamp on your bedside table flickered again, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to shift with every second. The unsettling quiet that filled the space made your skin prickle. He’d been here—right here, between your legs—but now there was nothing, not even a sound to suggest he had ever existed.

Had he left? Was he still watching?

A faint breeze seemed to brush past you, chilling the room even further. You wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly hyper-aware of your bare skin, of how exposed you were.

Just then, you heard it—the softest of sounds, a quiet, almost mocking laugh. It was close, impossibly close, yet no one was there. You shivered, your eyes darting around the room, searching for any sign of movement, any clue to his whereabouts. But there was nothing.

“Satoru Gojo. Remember the name, sweetheart. You’ll be hearing it a lot.”

🏷️: @sadmonke @collectionofdolls @1t4d0r1 @glazedtear @madamechrissy

[the-kingshound]

Warning inane ramble incoming, it’ll probably be annoying I apologize. (*_ _)人 I spent the last several days reading every post here. I managed to convince myself to start liking some (sorry about that I’m sure it was annoying to get all those notifications) I have this weird thing where I get nervous about liking older posts cuz I mean it’s been a long time and it’s unprompted so that’s weird right? It feels weird like I’m doing something wrong or I’m being annoying, I considered reblogging too but somehow that felt worse? Sorry I am not good with social rules they confuse me both on and offline Idk my brain is wrong and I’m just a nervous socially anxious snail. (＞﹏＜)

Anyways just wanted to gush about how much I love it here and I’m never leaving (´꒳`) ♡ First and foremost Yniol has a special place in my heart they will forever be my favorite bestie (*＾ω＾)人(＾ω＾*), yes I am biased as my partner is grey and though they don’t play IFs they were thrilled to learn about your character! Also your writing is just phenomenal, your fans are fun and creative, your characters give such warm and positive energy I love them so much they’re perfect, the inclusivity is such chefs kiss ( ´ з `) 🤌🏻✨, the angst is delicious, the fluff is so sweet and comforting, the spice is ... very blush-worthy (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄). This has been a journey I laughed, I cried, I giggled, and I blushed and I have enjoyed every bit of it from pasta discourse to Moldien cult wars to Arthur bunnies, I’ve had the most wonderful time. Now my mind is gonna be filled with Arthurian stuff for months my maladaptive daydreaming is having the time of its life I have a road trip next week and I’m so looking forward to just staring out a window for 6+hours while my Hound's just alternating daydream adventures with the cast o(≧▽≦)o. Also speaking of your amazingly wonderful, sweet, and supportive cast I have decided my (though I love them all) favorite poly pairings are Arthur/Morien and whole crew polycule I’d sell my soul for those but I 100% understand why you can’t really do that. I don’t think I have the endurance in me to code a single poly no matter how much I wish it so the fact you’re doing any let alone several is just god tier you are awe inspiring.

Alas I have rambled far far to much I wish I could be more eloquent in expressing just how much I enjoyed experiencing all of this but for now this is the best I can do (╥ω╥). Thank you for sharing your wonderful work it’s truly a gift to experience. ଘ(੭ˊ꒳​ˋ)੭✧ I wish you wealth, health, and all the best in all your creative endeavors. -🐌

No, please please do not apologize. You made my entire week <3 This ask is straight up going into the folder where i keep my motivation to write and to be just a little proud of my work, thank you so so much for sending it.

For anyone having the same thoughts about liking or reblogging old posts: please do it. When I see the notifications, get very giddy and pleased, and I hope you are enjoying the food. Liking, and especially reblogging things, even more so if you add tags and reactons, not only fills me with glee but it also reminds me of old asks that I want to reblog again for new followers. So yeah, I love it, please feel free to go on a liking/reblogging spree!

You are so relatable for the maladaptive daydreaming (this game was absolutely born out of my own mental movies), I wish I could speed up the writing and editing for the next update so you can read it while you travel but I'm afraid it's a lost cause (I have been working on things, even now, but I am currently rewriting like half of it and while it is way better it takes sooo much time and energy). Knowing my characters and story are in someone's thoughts it the best kind of reward I need. I will never likely monetise this game, so this is the thing I wish to leave people with, and I hope the characters can be comforting and keep you company <3

You have no idea how much I would love to write the full polycule... maybe one day :,) But don't lose hope for the Arthur/Morien poly yet, as I decided to cancel the Gwyar/Morien poly and now I have a potentially free slot. In any case, awww, please know that this ask made me so happy today and will be in my thoughts as tkh is in yours.

Please have a lovely day and a lovely week and also a very lovely trip! Thank you again so so much!!

[makedonsgriva]

Random, what are your top favorite fics that you've written (feel free how much that you want to list)? Why they're special to you? Is there a specific inspiration when you wrote them?

Oh this is a pretty cool ask!

I will list five here!

1. We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do)

I’m actually pretty proud of this fic because it’s the first one I wrote after a pretty long hiatus and I was very nervous about it because a) it was my first fic for a new fandom b) it has explicit sexual content and I wasn’t sure if could pull it off nicely c) writing calamity xie lian and wu ming was a task alright like this fic took me almost a month i guess?? and d) since it was something I’d written after so long I was nervous my writing would be crappy

But people liked it and even I was very satisfied and pleased with how it turned out in the end! I’m pretty proud of it. Idk how I was inspired to write this fic because I started on a draft of it in the notes app of my phone while I was commuting back to home after my internship (harrowing experience fr)

(Maybe the fic made me channel out all my frustrations caused by the internship via xie lian)

2. I Really Like Your Company

I love this fic because it’s the first multi chapter fic I completed and posted. Also because it was my lifeline fr while I was grappling with many things. I’d started it as a gift for one of my dear friends and then it just became so much more. It’s so warm and comforting.

I was throwing in tropes and all cute stuff I could imagine in it and it made me happy. Writing that fic, getting comments on it made me very happy. I love that fic.

3. Once More We Try

Okay I’m actually still working on this fic and as a matter of fact I was working on its latest chapter before this and I truly think this fic has quickly become one of my favourites because I love writing all the characters in it so much. There’s so much to explore and so much to write and it’s a challenge but such a good challenge!

Idk how I got the inspiration for the fic I was just scrolling through tumblr one day and I randomly got this thought that huh what if SY had died instead of throwing Binghe in the abyss? And then I posted that idea and.

IT BLEW UP?

so I thought whoa why wait for someone else to write it when I can write it so I got down to business and here we are! It’s super fun. I love this fic so much. It’s also my first fic for scum villain fandom and I’m so glad it’s been so well received ❤️

4. Song of The River City

Another TGCF fanfic! I’ve put it on hold for now as I’m planning to complete OMWT before I get back to it. I’m actually very proud of this AU where we have ghost king! Xie Lian who had died during the hundred sword scene and cultivator! Hua Cheng (who had dispersed his soul as Wu Ming and was re incarcerated as the cultivator). I’m planning to do great things with this AU and I also love writing a darker XL.

The inspiration for this fic was that I was just thinking about the hundred sword scene and I thought, huh what if that guy died here? So I got down to work.

I love this fic and writing all the characters in it and plotting out the backstories is very fun! Especially the latest chapter where I’d posted the fengqing backstory is one of my favourites. I’m proud of it.

5. I Remember It

So this is just 100 words long and I love this fic because I feel like I managed to break mine and all its readers hearts in so few words. I love writing drabbles because they are always a good challenge for me and this one is a particular favorite of mine. The inspiration for it was actually a fic idea that I later scrapped away. The fic was supposed to be from the pov of snowbaz’s kid and her experience with them as she got older and they aged too and yeah.. somehow it turned into that.

Thank you so much for the ask!

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = I've been on a really weird music kick - for me, anyway. Stuff like Otis Redding, Etta James, Solomon Burke, Bill Withers. And originally, I had Sanemi as the leading man. This goes along with For The Record a little bit in that the music is similar. I may keep trying to work on these damn things until I feel like I've gotten it right. Maybe I'll start a small collection or something where these older songs inspire me to write. Idk. Funny blip, I actually typed out 'Nemi at one part instead of 'Nami. Could you imagine? Living with both men, fucking Nanami and you say 'Nemi or the other way around. Sanemi and say 'Nami. They're so close. It's the perfect threesome. Hmm.

C/W = Sex. Overused italics. Spanking with panties. Nothing too horrific. But ... MDNI.

Sir 'Nami

You stood at the kitchen sink, mindlessly preparing the green beans you were going to cook with dinner. Your favorite mix, the one Nanami made for you, was playing over the inlaid speakers in the ceiling as you swung your hips from side-to-side to Misty Blue.

Nanami had good taste in everything; Clothes, music, cars, houses, investments. Right down to his toothpaste.

You were about halfway through the bag of beans when the garage door opened.

He was home at 5:19, just like he always was. Unless he had to put in some overtime.

He pulled into the driveway, ready to park the car away for the weekend, gathered up his briefcase and anything else he'd need and came in through the door to the side entryway.

You never cease to amaze him.

At first it was day after day, then weeks turned to months and months turned to years. Tonight is your 5 year anniversary and you still look at him with that same warm, sweet smile when he comes in and kicks off his work shoes for his house slippers.

He looks forward to it every evening. And he's elated every evening when he sees you standing there to greet him.

You act like newlyweds whenever you're together. In public places or in the privacy of your own home. Always kissing on the other, holding waists and hands, interlocking arms as the pair of you cross the street.

"Smells good, swee'heart." Nanami says as he stands behind you and joins you in the swaying. Turn Me On now playing softly through the air.

"Thank you, 'Nami. I missed you today, y'know that?" You said, turning around to face him.

He leaned down and put his head in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath in. "I'll never get over how lucky I am to have landed you, y'know that?" His arms wrapped around your aproned body; one around your waist, the other on your butt.

You pulled your head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "How you ... landed me?"

He kept his face in your neck, not bothered by the weird look you gave him. He didn't want to have to defend his choices to the woman he loved with all of his heart.

"Hmmm mhmm." He hummed. "You just have to accept it, darling. I'm the lucky one here."

Your arms made their way to rest around his neck, the two of you still swaying together. 'Crazy' by Patsy Cline, filling your ears as you stood with your husband in your custom-built home that he gave to you on your wedding night.

"I have to accept it, huh?" You said playfully as you nudged his face with your nose to rest against yours. "Well, you are the man of the house. Whatever you say goes, I s'pose."

"I may be the man of the house, but you're queen of the castle."

He untied the apron strings from where they sat at your belly and hung it carefully in the pantry. A place for everything and everything in its place, he'd always say.

"Whoo! 'Nami!" He scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal-style to your king size bed. Laying you down so gently like you'd break any other way he released you from his hold.

"It's Friday, my love." He said just as calmly as he'd say anything else. "We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want." He kissed between the knuckles on your hands, looking up at you as his lips brushed your soft skin there.

You played dumb. "I - no, it's Thursday, 'Nami. You're losing your mind. Come, let me show you the calendar."

He pulled you back down as you tried to stand from the bed.

"Mm-mm. I know it's Friday. I have been living for this day since Sunday. Now," he began to nuzzle into your chest and kiss your collarbone, "what sort of trouble can we get ourselves into this weekend?"

He had the dress pulled down off of your shoulder by now. Licking little circles into your exposed skin before he kisses it all away and starts over.

"We could ..." he continued as his hand slid from your knee to your thigh so lightly it gave you goosebumps, "go to dinner?"

You scooted back a little on the bed, "'Nami, I almost have dinner ready to cook."

"That's right, that's right, darling, forgive my thoughtlessness." His fingers were squeezing the fattest part of your thigh now, his kisses trailed down further toward your breasts.

"Mm," you said, breathing a little harder now. "I - I don't know, honey. I mmm ... I might have to punish you for your foolishness." Your fingers found their way into his belt buckle and you started to toy around with it.

"'Nami, do it ... do the thing you do." Your face got a devilish little look on it as you tilted your chin and looked up at him.

Nanami stood and undid his belt with his right hand and ripped it from around his waist. How hard he already was became more evident as the seconds passed.

Now on your knees in front of him. "Please, sir, please give me your belt." You begged. You were ready for anything, even if it meant being submissive to your husband.

"I can do that, my love, but I think I have a better idea." He pulled his belt back up to his pants and tucked it into the pocket.

"You wanna know what I want to do to you, sweetheart?" He was pulling at the button on his pants now.

"Yes, sir. Tell me."

"I want to lay you down on your back," he said as he did just that. "I want to take my belt and tie your wrists together. And I want to take your pretty panties off and spank you with them."

Your mouth was open in anticipation. "Sir, please."

He pulled the panties from your waist and rolled them up to the top of his fist. "Don't worry, my love. I'll be gentle at first."

He tied your wrists together with his belt and then pulled the panties out from his fist.

"Are you ready, my darling?" He asked.

You nodded your head in agreement.

He brought the panties down on your backside with a loud crack.

"Oh! Sir, please. Again."

He spanked you again, harder this time.

"Mmhm, yes. Again, please."

He hit you again and again and again. Each time you would beg for him to do it harder.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each slap.

He stopped after a while and flipped you onto your back. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for his touch.

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly, his hands tracing your body. He trailed his tongue down to your chest, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

His fingers found their way to your clit, circling around it gently before slipping a finger inside your folds.

"’Nami, fuck me." You said, trying not to sound as desperate as you were feeling.

He pulled his pants off and threw them to the floor.

His cock was rock solid.

He grabbed your panties from the bed and rubbed the head of his dick with them before tossing them to the side.

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside you.

"Ohhhh, yes’sir." You moaned as you felt his cock fill you up.

He started thrusting in and out of you, slow and steady at first.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every thrust.

"Ohhh, sir, please fuck me harder." You begged.

He picked up the pace and started fucking you faster.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. 'Nami oh my fucking god ..."

He grabbed your tits in his hands and started kneading them, his cock still pounding away at you.

You were so close to cumming, you could feel it building up inside you.

"Sir, m’gonna cum. Please ...?"

"Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." He said as he fucked you even harder.

You came with a loud moan, your whole body shaking.

Nanami came right after you, his dick twitching as he filled you up.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, 'Nami." You said as you looked at him with a smile. "That was incredible."

"Yeah," he said as he kissed your cheek. "It really was. Thank you for letting me have my way with you, baby." He chuckled.

You both lay there for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.

After a while, you got up and started to get dressed. You had dinner to cook, after all.

As you walked to the kitchen, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have a man like Nanami in your life. He was everything you could ever hope for. 

[redrose10]

Read your post about us requesting BTS stories annnnnd i´ve had this idea since forever so maybe you can make it come to life?

Also, wanted to say i found your account some time back and i absolutely LOVE your conten. Its so, so good honestly. I´m so happy one random day you popped in my titmeline.

So here it goes, sorry if its too much, of course you can always skip parts or change it if you feel like it. Since Christmas and New Year are around the corner i think it would fit.

So Namjoon, Jin´s bestfriend both majorying in some nerdy career. Happens to one night take a light liking in you after almost 7 years knowing you, seeing you as Jin´s little sister. Where it gets tricky is that... both Jin and her have abandoment issues and he is SO OVER PROTECTIVE or her it borders toxic but its just trauma response (like the background is so angsty, idk father used to be an abuser, mom never taking care of them, leaving money and dissapearing for days, cursing them out for existing like Seokjin with just 13 learned how to cook do laundry and braid her sister´s hair every night? etcetc) So both Jin and her only trusted each other, that´s until they both found angels as friends few years ago. So one night, escaping from Seokjin, Jimin, her bff convinces her of sneaking to a frat party or something and- wait- What time is it? Her head hurts... And why is she grinding hips at the beat of the music and making out in a frat room with, tall, big thighs, glasses, dimple smiled and clearly drunk... K-Kim Namjoon?!

Like i want HEALING, i want development ...what if Namjoon is head over heels because he starts seeing her as a woman for the first time after that and he absolutely loves eveything about her? He tries but he just cant stop his heart from doing cartwheels everytime he sees her. Like, he KNOWS her. How was he so blind before? What if she´s too scared but after hundreds of flirting and tries from him,.. how can she not fall for him? So they give it a try...While, hiding from Jin? What if there´s a toxic ex she cant get rid of that left her even more scared of relationships. IDK you can twist it as you like of course! xx

First, I am so sorry this is so late and it’s way past the Holidays. Things have been crazy and I don’t have as much free time as I used to.

Second, This kind of strayed away from the request a bit. I’m really sorry, but I hope you still like it!

Third, Thank you so much for you kind words! I love hearing that.

******************************************************

College Student Namjoon x Jin’s Little Sister Reader

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Slightly Suggestive, Alcoholism, Drug Use, Non-Consensual Activities, Drinking, Money being accepted for sex, Yoongi and Jungkook are pretty terrible (it’s just for the story. I don’t think they’d really be like this in real life.)

“Hey so uh you busy next Saturday?”

You looked the guy in front of you over several times. You heard his name was Yoongi. He appeared to be your typical college fuckboy. Definitely older. Had more money than the average college student. He claimed to be a rapper, going by the name Suga, but you knew most of his money probably came from dealing. You knew what he wanted and you also knew you’d never hear from him again once he got it. The thing is that even knowing all of that information you were still interested.

“Why what do you have pla-“

“She’s busy!”, a familiar voice declared before grabbing your arm. As you were being drug away by your older brother you turned to get one last look at Yoongi who was staring at you dumbfounded before shrugging his shoulders and walking back into the party to find a new plan.

“What are you thinking talking to guys like that?”, Jin scolded once you were far enough away, “He’s just going to use you.”

“So what?! I’m an adult and I can consent to it if I want to.”, you said crossing your arms. So far your college experience had been a lot of sneaking around trying to do things without your overprotective brother breathing down your neck. You knew he meant well and only wanted the best for you, but it was still frustrating.

“Come on. Let’s grab some dinner. My treat.”, he said opening the door for you.

“Namjoon.”, you smiled before taking a seat across from him at the table. Of course he would be there. Him and your brother had pretty much been inseparable since high school which was both good and bad for the huge crush you harbored on him.

“Y/N.”, he nodded, “You know Jin is right by the way. You really should stay away from guys like Yoongi. You deserve much better than that.”

Your heart skipped a beat hearing him say that, but you quickly came back to reality when he followed it up with, “You’re my best friends little sister and I’d hate to see you get hurt like that.”

“Thanks.”, you mumbled before burying your face into the menu. You were never going to be more to him than the annoying little girl in pigtails who use to tag along with them everywhere they went.

“Are you two seriously studying on a Saturday night?”, you giggled after finding Jin and Namjoon surrounded by papers and books at the kitchen table.

“Hey Astrophysics is like really really hard.”, Jin whined.

“Yeah that’s why I’m a dance major.”, their other friend Hobi spoke from behind the counter where he was biting into a pizza slice.

“Okay well I’ll be out late so don’t wait up.”, you said trying to quickly make it to the door.

“Whoa whoa whoa where do you think you’re going?”, Jin questioned.

“I have a date.”, you mumbled knowing you were about to have a fight.

“A date? With who? And where? It better not be Yoongi.”, he said walking over to get closer to you.

“It’s not Yoongi. It’s just uh…It’s just some guy I met.”, you whispered, “I’m meeting him at the restaurant.”

“No way! I don’t like that. I’ll take you there so I can see this guy for myself.”, Jin said already looking for his coat.

“I’m an adult Jin. I don’t need you babysitting me all the time.”, you spat.

“I don’t care if you’re an adult. You’re still my little sister.”, he said sternly, “Namjoon help me out here.”

Namjoon was a little taken back after being pulled into the conversation, but he composed himself, “I mean…I think it’s a good thing for him to check it out and make sure this guy doesn’t seem like he’s up to something.”

You sighed, but stormed out of the apartment knowing that Jin was close behind.

“See.”, you hissed while pointing through the large window of the restaurant, “His name is Taehyung. He’s a biology major. He works part time at the campus coffee shop even though he hates coffee. He likes theater and the color red. Good enough?”

Jin side eyed you, “Call me immediately if he tries anything.”

You rolled your eyes and entered into the restaurant towards Taehyung whom you did know from being partnered together in your intro to biology class. Thankfully he was a talker so you knew a lot about him and by some miracle he also happened to be at the same restaurant. Because once you were sure that Jin had walked away you turned and walked towards your actual date.

Yoongi was sitting in the back corner. He greeted you with a smile and got up to pull out your chair and help you get seated, a nice gesture you weren’t expecting from him.

You liked him, maybe even a little more than you had planned but you couldn’t help yourself. He was handsome and charismatic. He knew just what to say. He also had this “he can be fixed” aura about him. You always seemed to go for the guys with the most traumatic or saddest backstories, probably a product of your upbringing thanks to your severely alcoholic father whom you grew up trying to take care of before he passed away.

“Earth to Y/N.”, Yoongi chuckled, “Did you wanna meet up at The Winter Fest next Saturday?”

You were stunned by his request. A second date with THE Min Yoongi was unheard of.

“Yeah sounds great.”, you managed to speak still in shock.

“Cool, I can’t wait.”, he smirked.

“NO absolutely not!!”, Jin slammed his hand down on the table, “You are not going to The Winter Fest. It’s just an excuse for too many people to shove themselves into a house and get blackout drunk and have sex. You are not going!” He was actually angry. You knew he wasn’t going to be happy when he found out, but you didn’t expect this level of aggression.

“Why do you treat me like I’m still a child? You’re not my father!”, you shouted back instantly feeling guilty when you saw his face fall.

“Fine Y/N. Do what you want, but I cant promise I’ll be there to save you.”

“Jinnie.”, you said reaching for his hand but he pulled away.

“I may not be your father, but I had to step up at a young age to raise you, to protect you. I practically gave up my youth to take care of you and for the longest time you were all I had. I’m sorry that I’m overprotective of you. I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”, he said before walking off to his room.

“He has a point.”

“Not now Namjoon.”, you pouted but he continued anyways, “He just wants what is best for you. I know he comes off strong and like he’s just trying to ruin things for you, but he means well. Especially about this Winter Fest thing. Nothing good ever happens there. The school has been trying to get it banned for years. I’d have to agree with him on this one and you should skip it.”

“Why so I could be the one person on campus who doesn’t go to it? Be deemed a social outcast?”

“Why do you want to go so bad?”, he inquired, “Do you really think Yoongi has good intentions by asking you there?”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “H-How did you know that?”

Namjoon started packing up his belongings. “Let’s just say your brother isn’t the only one that worries about you.”, he mumbled before seeing himself out of your apartment.

“Wait so Jin is out of town which means you can freely go to Winter Fest?”, your best friend Jimin asked.

“Yep, I guess I got lucky. He said something about going to some astrophysics conference somewhere. I don’t know. It sounded boring.”

“Wow I thought for sure he’d lock you in a tower somewhere and throw away the key.”

You both laughed at the thought of that.

“And Namjoon?”, he questioned a few minutes later.

“What about him?”

“Well…I mean he’s kind of like your other protector. He’s always got his eye on you and stuff. He’s just not as obnoxious about it as your brother is. I think he might kind of have a thing for you. He gets like weirdly jealous some times.”

You scoffed to yourself, “He thinks I’m just some dumb little girl who can’t take care of myself. That’s all. And I don’t know where he is tonight and I don’t really care because I have a date with Yoongi to get ready for.”

The music was loud, almost excruciatingly loud. The floors were sticky and covered in what you were hoping was just spilled liquor. All you cared about was finding Yoongi which was a lot harder than anticipated thanks to strobe lights and hundreds of other people packed into this house shoving each other around.

You were making your way to the back when someone grabbed your waist startling you and making you scream.

“Calm down baby doll. It’s just me.”, Yoongi whispered in your ear.

“Sorry you scared me.”, you giggled and wrapped your hands around his arm.

“Don’t worry. I wont let anything bad happen to you.”, he grinned while leading you into the kitchen to get a drink.

It happened fast, but one drink turned into three and next thing you knew your hands were running through Yoongi’s hair as he pushed you up the stairs while his tongue wrestled with yours for dominance.

Somehow you managed to find an unoccupied bedroom in which Yoongi pushed you down onto the bed.

“Are you sure about this baby doll?”, he asked. The nickname making your heart beat a little bit faster.

You nodded and pulled him down on top of you.

“H-Hold on. I’ll be right back.”, he said leaning away. “Need condoms.”, he laughed when he noticed your confused expression before leaving the room.

You laid on the bed adjusting your skirt and unbuttoning your top a little more when the door swung open and then quickly slammed shut. You expected Yoongi or even another eager couple, but you never expected to see Namjoon standing in the center of the room. When you saw him glancing at your exposed cleavage and hiked up skirt you quickly adjusted yourself feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Namjoon what are you doing here? Please leave.”

He shook his head, “You need to come with me. Please Y/N. You don’t want to be here.”

“No I’m sure I do want to be here because that’s why I’m here so please leave before Yoongi gets back.”

“Y/N listen to me?”

“No Namjoon. I’m sick of it! I’m sick of you guys being overbearing. I’m sick of you treating me like a little kid. I’m an adult and can make adult decisions on my own.”

He nodded, “Fine.”, and walked out slamming the door behind him.

The door opened once again. This time revealing Yoongi. But also someone else. A someone else that made your legs shake and your stomach nauseous.

“J-Ju-Jungkook?”, you whispered.

“See I told you man.”, Yoongi said patting Jungkook on the back, “I’ve got her prepped and everything. She’s all yours.”

You watched as Jungkook handed Yoongi a wad of cash.

“I…I don’t understand.”, you said, “You’re like a pimp or something?”

“Oh God no.”, Yoongi laughed, “I’m just a good business man. The first time… I was genuinely interested in hooking up with you, but after our little run in with your brother I didn’t think you would be worth the trouble. But fuck you’re gorgeous and I couldn’t get you out of my mind so I gave you another chance. Then I saw your crazy brother follow you to the restaurant and knew I was done with this mess. When you got up to go to the bathroom I was just gonna pay the bill and leave you there, but then Jungkook here came over to the table and asked for a favor. He said he knew you and wanted to get with you so I said for the right price I’d make it happen. And here we are!”

You were appalled by him. An arrogant fuckboy is one thing, but accepting money to trick you into hooking up with someone else, especially Jungkook was another. You wanted to give him an ear full, but he was already in the hallway letting the door slam behind him.

You tried to chase after him, but Jungkook put his arm out to stop you, “I don’t think so Y/N. I paid for this and I’m not leaving without it.”

“Leave me alone Jungkook. I wouldn’t fuck you back when we were dating and I won’t do it now so let it go.”, you said trying to shove past him but he was much bigger and stronger and threw you down onto the bed with ease, “We will see about that.”

You wanted to fight back, but all of the horrible memories of your past came flooding back making you freeze in fear. Your addict of mother letting random men into the house at all hours of the night and you screaming in terror begging for them to stop. Jin always bursting through the door not caring what happened to him as long as he got you safe. He’d always wrap you in his arms and tell you everything was going to be okay and you would give anything to have him here right now so you could apologize and tell him he was right about all of it.

“Y/N are you okay?”

“Y/N?”

Cautiously you opened your eyes to see Namjoon staring at you. The bedroom door had been nearly busted off its hinges and Jungkook was rolling around on the ground with blood pouring from his nose and mouth.

“Joonie.”, you sobbed as he picked you up and pulled you onto his lap.

“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”, he asked.

“N-No”, you shook your head, “I just want to go home.”

“Okay. Let’s get you home.”, he said carrying you out of the party.

The snow had really picked up outside and you were freezing. You were a little embarrassed. Also still a little scared and shaken up.

So when Namjoon came in your room to bring you some hot tea and a snack you couldn’t help but break down all over again.

“I…I think, maybe I should call Jin.”, he said trying to walk away, but you grabbed onto his hand and stopped him, “No please stay here with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay. I’m here.”, he whispered before gingerly getting into your bed with you trying not to cause too much of a disturbance.

“How did you know what they were up to?”, you asked after a while of silence and watching the snow fall.

“Well…Yoongi and Jungkook aren’t exactly the smartest so they were running their mouths about this whole thing and it eventually got back to me.”

“Oh.”, you said, “Well uh thank you for saving me. I’m sure Jin made you promise to take care of me. Honestly I can’t believe he even left knowing all of this would happen.”

“He doesn’t know.”

“What?!”, you gasped.

Namjoon nodded, “I didn’t tell him. I knew he would loose his mind over it and probably get himself hurt or even worse so I never said anything. I was uh I was actually supposed to be at the conference with him, but I pretended to be sick so I could be here instead.”

“Thank you Joonie. I’m sorry your hand got hurt.”, you said gently rubbing his bruised knuckles.

“Worth it.”, he chuckled, “I’ve wanted to punch Jungkook ever since the first time I saw the two of you together.”

You laughed along with him, “Yeah I apparently have a type and it’s not a good one. I just… I don’t know. I want to find someone who’s a good guy. I can certainly take care of myself, but I want someone that will put Jin’s mind at ease too you know. Like someone he trusts and I can trust. I want him to enjoy his life and stop worrying about me so much. I don’t know if I’ll ever find anyone like that.”

“What about me?”, Namjoon asked after a long bout of silence.

“What about you?”

“Well I mean your brother trusts me and I think you trust me otherwise I wouldn’t be laying in your bed right now.”, he awkwardly looked around, “I also kind of really like you a lot Y/N. I have for a while. I just…I didn’t want to make things weird because you’re my best friends sister and I never wanted to push anything on you. But I can’t keep watching you go out with these dirtbags.”, he said before turning in the bed to face you, “I can take care of you. I can protect you. I’ll always be there for you. Y/N, I can show you what true love looks like, feels like, sounds like. I want to fill all of the voids that you have in your life. I-If you’ll have me that is.”

“You have…You have no idea how long I’ve liked you.”, you whispered now crying tears of happiness, “I know I come with a lot of baggage and I’m not perfect, but I would really really love it if you gave us…gave me a chance.”

“Hey hey don’t cry.”, he said softly wiping away your tears, “You know…some of the most beautiful pieces of art in the world have imperfections in them, but that doesn’t make them valued any less than the others. If anything it makes them even more special.”

“You’re always such a dork.”, you chuckled hoping to lighten the mood a little., “Thank you for always being there for me Namjoon, especially tonight. I don’t know what would’ve happened…”

“Hey don’t think about what did or could’ve happened any more. It’s over. You’re safe here with me.”

You nodded your head against him before resting on his chest allowing the beats of his heart and slow breathing to help lull you off to sleep. You felt warm and comfortable and safe for the first time in a long time.

“Ahhh what the hell?! I leave for two days and you two end up cuddled in bed together.”, Jin groaned after dropping a bag of food on the bedside table, “Eat and get dressed. We’re having a family meeting to set some ground rules before I walk into something I don’t want to see. I need my brain to be in prime condition and not scarred by this nonsense.” Then he stormed out mumbling something about holy water.

Namjoon laughed as he handed you a breakfast sandwich.

“He took that better than I expected.”, you said feeling quite relieved.

“Don’t be too comfortable.”, Namjoon chuckled, “He’s got a whole PowerPoint presentation prepared for this moment.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Seriously?”

“Yep”, he nodded, “It has graphs and special effects and everything. He’s been saving it for when you finally started dating someone he thought was decent enough to stick around.”

“Oh god.”, you whined before falling back onto the bed.

“Hey!”, Jin’s voice came from outside the door, “None of that funny business until we go over the PowerPoint. I discuss it on slide 27.”

You thanked Namjoon after he handed you a sweater to wear and walked into the hallway.

“Just so you know…it has 118 slides.”, he whispered.

“Well…maybe I’ll give you a little reward if you get him to cut it in half.”, you smirked while squeezing his hand thankful and grateful to have him…both of them…by your side.

[souryogurt64]

Would you recommend dating apps for actual serious dating? I feel like I wanna try bumble but i fear everyone there just want hookups..... idk hows been your experience so far?

Dating app manifesto under the cut because I think I've probably been on at least 20 dates since moving to chicago

Which app

Bumble is the worst in my opinion and I feel like a lot of guys I matched with never responded. I havent gone on a Tinder date in years because I feel its getting geared more towards hookups because other apps are getting more popular.

Hinge definitely has its downsides but it's pretty much the only one I use. I also bought Hinge Premium when I was drunk (???? stupid decision) and I also got a random survey from Hinge recently and I complained very passionately and IDK if it was coincidental but I do think I started getting likes from more attractive guys and also have been on a lot more dates since paying.

Older = more serious

I would say there are a lot of guys looking for hookups but most of the guys who are 28-30ish (as high as I will go) have realized they don't have a lot of time and are looking for a very serious relationship right now immediately to the point where it is a little overwhelming. Or at least they are claiming to, idk, but none of them have made it past like date 4.

I would not recommend doing this if you were in undergrad or lower, but I think dating 3-5 years older gives you guys that are more mature and better dating material for a lot of reasons.

Kind of sucks but it's objectively true, guys tend to want to date girls that are slightly younger so this increases your quality of matches and the desirability of potential dates. This is also unfortunate but true in that a lot of guys who are desirable tend to just not have a problem getting women and there's no societal pressure for them not to be players so there's just like no point in dealing with them until they've gotten bored of this.

Which dates to avoid

I also wouldn't accept zero effort dates either. Like I think dinner is a lot for a first date and coffee or a dive bar is perfectly fine. But if a guy is asking you to go on a walk when it's 30 degrees outside, he most likely is either unemployed, has some serious issues around his perception of women and gender roles, or doesn't really want you that badly.

Personally, I almost always pay for myself on first dates (or split the bill some other way) because I don't think the guy should pay for everything. I let the guy pay a few times when I was younger because he insisted, and they can often get mad if you don't go home with him so it's a safety thing. But no zero effort dates still applies.

Similarly, if he is asking you to come to his place he is probably just looking to hook up, which was something I think I didn't really understand when I was 20 and just starting to date and I think that led to me getting my heart broken a lot.

Which connections to pursue

If a guy sends you a like and not a message with it, 90% of the time he is just looking for validation and not planning on responding to you if you message first. I would just ignore likes with no comments and not message first.

If a guy sends you a rose with no comment this doesn't apply and he is probably legit serious about seeing you. I think guys see women sending roses as desperate so I don't think it helps women. Superlikes on Tinder are usually accidents but on Hinge they aren't.

Reevaluate your criteria

Dating apps as a girl can be extremely overwhelming with likes and messages, the majority of which are likely low quality, so it can force you to make snap judgements or semi-stupid rules in an effort to pare down your options. Like if I don't regularly purge on Hinge it will get to like 300+ in a few weeks and it becomes just insane.

I feel like I am blowing this guy I'm seeing out of proportion because we’ve only been on 3 dates in like two weeks so who knows he could be gone tomorrow or turn out to be insane or horrible in 3 months. But this is the first time I’ve kissed someone in like two years.

But I think with him, I think I made exceptions to things that normally would have been immediate nos because he sent me a rose instead of a like and most of my friends are getting into relationships so I felt like I wanted to take a chance on a guy that was more serious.

And I definitely thought hard about going out with him. But the reason I would have said no to these things was because they were indicators of political ideologies (former military and from the south) that somehow miraculously didn't apply in this case. I'm a bit concerned these things will become an issue in the future but I also think they came with a lot of unexpected pros as well. Such as if a guy has airlifted people to hospitals he is probably a lot more calm, level headed, and responsible than 99% of the male population, and he's also very athletic.

And also I think he thinks you should be nicer to girls because they're girls, and while I don't really believe in that it is pleasant. Similarly he lives a few miles away and in my experience, guys often start acting bizarre and resentful and like you owe them sex if they drove fifteen minutes to see you and paid two dollars for parking so I usually wouldn't go out with a guy that lived that far away. But these two things cancel each other out so it's fine.

Also, his first photo wasn't good and he was on the edge of being at my height cutoff (only because guys on dating apps usually drastically inflate how tall they are) but I took a chance anyway and he happened to be more attractive and was telling the truth about his height lol. He was also pretty persistent about responding whereas if I forget to respond to guys on dating apps for like a day they usually won't message back after that.

So I guess prioritizing intention and persistence over other stuff. My only friend that has a boyfriend off an app said that she ended up dating him because he just kept showing up and was really serious about dating her so there's also that.

Physical connection

I got this advice from someone else on here (the artist formerly known as Billiemania) but ignore guys who say anything remotely sexual.

I have a very subtle hint on my profile about something I'm into that can pass as not intentional and I think I was mistakenly pursuing guys who would open with a comment about it because I wanted to find someone that was mutual with. The only guy I ever found this opened with hey and had nothing in his bio but I think he clocked this on me and knew what he was doing.

Anyway, guys who opened with something sexual would never make a move on me period even if we had been on like 5 dates and I also didn't feel any chemistry with any of them.... period. This also goes for guys who have something sexual in their bio but don't want you to come to their place. They're just being freaks.

On the flipside, I feel like a lot of guys I have dated I have been on 3-5 dates with and they haven't even tried to kiss me and at that point it gets weird, IMO.

At this point I honestly feel like I would not continue to see a guy if he didn't try to kiss me after the 2nd or 3rd date because I just don't want to personally be in a relationship like that. This guy kissed me on the first date and keeps trying to kiss me in public and this might be wackadoodle and based on nothing but I honestly feel like a lot of guys on dating apps who aren't that serious about dating you instinctively don't want to kiss you in public because they are afraid of seeming unavailable to other women. But who knows.

Work on yourself first

Finally, I think I've recently had a lot better luck dating in the last 6ish months. I can't remember every single guy I've gone out with, but of the last 6 since March (as far back as I can remember lol), I have been the one to break it off with all of them and that wasn't the case at all when I was in my early twenties. I think I've had a lot better luck because I learned the advice I just gave you in this post, but also because I focused a lot on bettering myself.

Like I lost a lot of weight in college, got a real job after college, started working out frequently, did Accutane, started whitening my teeth, and started developing my sense of style and investing in better clothing and makeup, as well as heat styling my hair before dates. I also got a hobby I am successful at that has intrigue, fame, and fortune (/j YouTube).

This also gave me the confidence to not settle. Like I would go on dates with guys who lived with their parents and wanted to keep seeing me but weren't sure if they wanted a relationship and it was easier to say no because I know I'm out of their league, whereas when I was younger and more insecure and knew I was less desirable as a partner I would put up with more bullshit.

[witheredsnow]

My first blogged short story awhile ago that I just thought of posting to... Idk. I guess to relieve myself of some things by turning it into embellished fiction. It was more well-received than I thought. Now this is the third. Thanks for reading. -Rei

It's Not the Same, a short story on an aroace POV

Sunny mornings, cool windy breezes and the sparse green. That was what most days were like with you, my dearest friend.

Sprawled on the ground of your small yard. Green was hard to come by sadly.

We were both young and lived like the world was a fantasy.

Although, I wished I could be in a better fantasy. With you, of course.

A cottage in the woods, surrounded by green, yellows, blues, pinks and violets. Even young, I wanted an idyllic life.

Wouldn't that be a great fantasy.

And I told you about it. Would you want to be there with me too? When we're both older and have to live in reality, let's have this piece of fantasy. Together.

Oh how happy my words made you look. Sparkly eyed youth with red tinted cheeks.

Then you held out your pinky... Oh, right. Of course I would promise.

I want to be with you even years later. And I know you feel the same way as you told me too.

...

.....

But perhaps, it wasn't exactly the same way.

...

We grew older into bigger kids though still kids and still the closest of bonds there is.

Adults say we look cute together as we continue to grow older. Mmm... I mean, I suppose? Individually we look cute, so together we're cuter. I think I understand the logic.

Or maybe I misunderstood.

... I don't know.

Hm? You seem more timid when they say that.

Everyone looked on with a knowing smile or glance.

I... Really don't understand.

...

....

And sometimes I wished I continued to stay ignorant.

But that would be unfair to you, no?

...

Getting even older. It wasn't that exciting to me, in all honesty.

I think I'm starting to get into the reality of growing older... Not that fun. Oh, how I daydreamed of our childhood fantasies when I'm bored.

I never gave up on that dream as I continue to dream it night and day. Do you still remember?

Of course you do. You would encourage and support me too. I know I will want you to be there with me.

You know, that was what I was most looking forward to in getting older. To be with you in that fantasy like I've told you many years ago.

You smiled softly at the declaration I said out loud.

Although, these days... I don't think it'll be just as I wanted. I... Don't know what it is. I don't know where is it not what I wanted.

...

....

But later, I know what it was.

....

Huh? Pardon? What did you say?

My mind stopped working. Or rather, it was working but it was working to block out the words I don't understand why I was denying. Did that make sense?

Hm... Anyway, erm, I understand what you said that you were feeling. Towards me to be exact. And I understand the context of said feelings...

Maybe I did a while ago...

If I said I don't feel the same way or rather, I never will feel the same and I never did feel the same... No, that's not an 'if'. I should say it and I did.

The eyes that looked at me fondly and with growing attraction I chose to ignore when I became aware of its nature now looked hurt. Because I hurt you with this truth.

You thought I felt the same. That I liked you... Or possibly even loved you.

And I did and still do. But... It wasn't ever the same way as you. It took me long to be aware of that.

I... I'm sorry.

...

.....

It wasn't the same ever since that day and I sometimes grieved because of that fact.

So this is reality for us, huh.

....

You looked great together.

I said that as I attended your wedding. Now those words are truly fitting.

You smiled a small smile as I did the same.

It really wasn't the same anymore. But that's not always a bad thing. If it meant that I could see you smile again and have your heart be reciprocated the same way, then it definitely isn't now.

You're still my dearest friend... No matter what.

...

.....

"Hey... So house—or rather, cottagewarming party soon?"

"Yeah. Don't be late."

...

[superfallingstars]

Hey! Wanted to send you another playlist ask prompt (if that's ok) ^^: Percy Weasley in his flat, trying not to think about his family. I'm genuinely wondering what he would listen to

send me playlist asks!

First off, you can basically always send playlist prompts, I’m fine with it, I have a ton of fun with these. It’s just a matter of whether I answer them in a few weeks, months, or years LOL

I confess, before receiving this ask, I had thought about Percy for maybe a grand total of 5 seconds, so suffice it to say that I had no idea what to do about this. However I recently (VERY recently) started rereading the series and I’m slowly remembering who tf he is lol. My playlists for the other Weasley kids all have a huge Britpop influence, so I decided to continue that (along with some other alternative 80s and 90s stuff) on Percy’s. Hopefully it comes across that he is a huge stuck-up nerd, but he is also just a young guy trying to find his place in the world, going through the difficult process of realizing that he's made a mistake, and admitting to himself and the people he hurt that he was wrong... I imagine it was a very humbling experience. Also wow there’s so many great songs about moving on and starting a new life and I don’t think about you at all anymore so idk why you’re even sending me a sweater MOM. Basically I'm quite proud of the lyrics on this one (part of why it took me 10000 years to answer) �� so let's get into it

Track list:

Blur - There’s No Other Way: starting off strong with some early Blur. Tbh I don’t really know what this song is about but I enjoy that it starts out with “You’re taking the fun out of everything.” Soooo true Percy you killjoy

The Wedding Present - Box Elder: Great song about leaving (specifically a relationship – unfortunately most great songs about moving on are about relationships, but whatever)! “I’ve got a lot of things to do / A lot of places to go / I’ve got a lot of good things coming my way / And I’m afraid to say that you’re not one of them.” Yeowch!

Lloyd Cole and the Commotions - Are You Ready To Be Heartbroken?: I adore this song in all its 80s glory! The meaning is a bit ambiguous but imo it’s about being an opinionated, idealistic, pretentious young person (“Making your friends feel so guilty about their cynicism”) who doesn’t realize real life is going to – well – break their heart.

The Smiths - London: I just heard this song for the first time two days ago and omg it's perfect. Like it’s literally about leaving your friends and family behind to go move to London and work in the big city. Percy would 10000% listen to this (and uncritically agree that the only reason his family is mad at him is because they’re jealous of his success and his big boy job at the Ministry)

Ned’s Atomic Dustbin - Selfish: from what I can tell, this song is about being an insecure loser so you get all stuck-up and mean about it. "If I don't know what's cool / Will you call me a loser?" ... “I hope your head's aching from having too much fun” ... “The selfish gene in me / Has finally come into being / He’s teaching me how to be mean / But that’s a sorry sorry state to be in” ..Rather fitting, isn’t it?

The Wedding Present - Getting Nowhere Fast: read an article about this song (the original song, this is a cover) that described it as “the feeling that your failing life isn’t what you signed up for” and honestly I can’t describe it any better than that

Blur - Birthday: this song is about spending your birthday alone and feeling really weird and bad about it. Which is something I hadn’t even considered could have happened to Percy but now I 1000% believe that it did

New Order - Weirdo: These lyrics man. “It’s a life that’s made for me / Where I can be completely free / So long as I obey this sound / That echoes all around” Lollll

Dire Straits - Brothers in Arms: This song is a little dated for Percy’s time, but I quite like putting 80s stuff on here because I think older music adds to Percy's supposed maturity as well as making him seem accurately uncool. And “We’re fools to make war on our brothers in arms” wow sooooo true

The Verve - Neon Wilderness: truly captures the vibes of being a lonely young person living on your own in the big city. I can vividly picture Percy listening to this alone in his flat and slowly realizing what a sad and solitary life he has created for himself…

Pavement - Stop Breathing: THE REALIZATION. This song is technically about a soldier dealing with the emotional toll of war but it works fantastically well for this playlist (the guilt of realizing you were wrong, that you truly hurt others, and that your whole belief system was massively flawed). “Write it on a postcard / Dad they broke me / Dad they broke me.” Ummmmm screaming crying throwing up

The Rentals - It’s Time to Come Home: It really is.

WOWWW this one was so fun! It was a challenge to create a playlist for a character I’m not super familiar with, but honestly that was probably the most fun part about it! It’s so rewarding when you spend some time thinking about a character you (initially) feel neutral towards and force yourself to really consider their motivations and relate to them – I like Percy a lot more now LOL. Thank you so much for the ask!

[ghostampire]

"Now they definitely won't make a shitty movie."

Tara Carpenter x Amber Freeman

Summary: Amber survives the final and now Tara is going to get answers.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: idk blood death glass hardcore ending I think I died

25th anniversary of the Woodsboro murders. Back to that crazy night that changed this town forever.

A bloody series of murders had come to an end. It only seemed that way at first glance. After all, that's how movies with good endings end, right?

The sounds of sirens and ambulances pierce the air, reporters pull up. It's happening all over again. Sam, Tara, and Mindy, as the surviving trio from the new generation, get proper medical attention. Finally a long-awaited vacation after exhausting games of not only life but death.

The police officers are about to seal the house and get to work, but their attention is drawn to the scream of a man heard from inside the house.

“Stretcher required, we have another survivor!”

Another one. But who? Mindy's firm grip stops the medical worker who was carrying her to the ambulance. Her gaze read hope and fear as her brother was the only one she didn't see among the others. He's Chad-fucking-Meeks-Martin. Would it be any different in this crazy real-life murder franchise? Apparently this time yes, because it's not the tough athlete with the beaming smile who is carried out of the house on a stretcher, but the culprit of their headaches and new scars. Amber Freeman. Second Ghostface. 

At this point, it's as if everyone around the house freezes in anticipation or disbelief, watching the scene unfold, except for Tara. She can't look at her girlfriend, already an ex, of course, but that doesn't save her from conflicting feelings.  From facing reality. The squeezing pain in her ribcage from the realization of betrayal and the relief that it didn't end as horribly as it could have. But... what now? The chaotic thoughts in her head were making her physically nauseous, as was the fantasy of their reunion. Maybe this was just what she needed. Maybe only now would she get her answers from the one who'd treated her so cruelly, though she'd never thought of that earlier. Now she needed the truth. She needed to know who her ex-girlfriend really was.

The younger Carpenter didn't feel as strong now as the older one. Tears were hard to hold back, her lips were starting to hurt.

Not surprisingly, Sam noticed the change in Tara's demeanor, grabbing her hand tighter for support. It was clear without words how hard it was to get through this moment. How hard it would be to get through this night. As if the nightmare wasn't over yet.

It was obvious for sure that for Tara, this nightmare would be forever. In real life and in her dreams. As for Amber? She won't let this nightmare fade away as long as she's alive.

It was a mistake.

Definitely the stupidest and craziest thing the younger Carpenter had ever done in her life. However, this night had long been beyond normal, so it was worth the risk. It was something she wanted to believe in, otherwise it would cost her a broken heart or her life.

Strange to think her heart was still beating for her.

She'd been on such craziness with her girlfriend before, they often got into such messes because Amber wanted more thrills. Tara wanted love.

There's a reason they say that you can't see the monster in your lover.

Not until it was too late.

Tara knew she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight, wouldn't be able to be around the people who cared for her right now. She was drawn to the one who had given her the most love and who had left more scars on her body and soul that would never truly heal. She felt like a moth that was mindlessly giving in to its instincts and flying toward the brightest light of its life. That's what Amber was to her. And it was killing her in every way. So yes, it was definitely a crazy idea to sneak into the hospital where the brutal killer was being held.

The small town had its advantages, but it was also a disadvantage. Everyone knew each other, knew secrets and could use them for good as well as evil. Carpenter thought it was only fair to find out everything from Amber here and now and that was what she was able to convince the policeman who was on duty outside the hospital room today. Only fifteen minutes had been allotted, which meant the questions had to be chosen wisely. 

One short breath. One step forward. One question.

“Why?”

Why did she even think she could get through to Amber? Why did she need answers so badly? Why was her girlfriend a fucking murderer when they could live happily together? Why?

The door was only slightly ajar, so that only a tiny bit of light from the corridor penetrated the room. The room itself was dark and shiveringly uncomfortable. Even in that damn house, the closet hadn't been so scary when Amber had tied her up and locked her in, and it had been chaotic after that. Now it felt like the closet had gotten bigger and locked her in with the killer. Maybe her mouth and wrists weren't taped shut, but the girl was restrained by all those feelings inside her.

Fear. Doubt. Sorrow.

Tara stood a couple steps away from the bunk where the brunette lay in bandages, in such a horribly vulnerable state, but alive. It might have all looked like loving people coming to each other for support, but the reality was far worse.

The silence in the room was agonizingly pressing on Carpenter's so unrecovered psyche. Words stuck in her throat, no matter how much she wanted to say. It was like torture. 

Amber remained motionless, as if frozen in place. As if she was the only one in the room who was conscious. She watched her ex-girlfriend's every move. They both knew that now they would have to choose every word, every tone with extreme care. The last night had taken a lot from them, they were on edge and the slightest slip up could end in disaster. Instinct for self-preservation screamed to run right now, but she felt paralyzed. Tara couldn't move after hearing her girlfriend's husky voice.

“Because it's fun.”

As if that was what Amber needed. To open up to someone and just say, "I am who I am." Like she'd been storing that moment in her heart for a long time.

And she saw Tara's gaze lock on one expression as well, her breathing quickened and her heart began to beat faster. She saw herself realize that there would be no more excuses, no more 'I love you'. No more trying to change things. Just the truth.

Amber saw Tara break down in front of her. It was her choice to tell her everything about herself, to tell her feelings. She wanted to be the one to help her, but she couldn't do that right now. All she could give Tara was the truth, which would break her. Just like the words she'd spoken: "Because it's fun." They could sever all ties between people and destroy any hope of any kind of love.

Carpenter realized this, which was why it was hard to hold back the tears that rolled down her cheeks so scaldingly. She had to muster all the strength she had to look the sociopath in the eye.

“Did I even mean anything to you?”

Amber felt her heart skip a beat at that question. A second later, she nodded her head and a slight smirk appeared on her face. She didn't deny that this relationship had given her something, including the realization that she felt what a normal person should feel. But it wasn't love. She hated to admit it, but she felt something from her that she hadn't felt before. A feeling she could call attraction, but as usual, it couldn't last. A sense of control over someone or something, and a feeling she had never felt before - a desire to take someone under her wing. But this feeling wasn't love, and she knew it. She couldn't fake it. It was on the verge of obsession. She knew exactly how their relationship would end, and she actually enjoyed everything that was happening between her and Tara. Amber took pleasure in the girl's feelings, but that pleasure was selfish. And in a way, it was her way of loving, but it was a twisted feeling that she didn't hide.

“I was trying to help you.”

As soon as those words came out of the ruthless killer's mouth, Tara breaks down completely and all the negative feelings overwhelm her at once. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was absurd. It couldn't possibly be true. Tears stop rolling down her cheeks, her gaze becomes hard and filled with burning rage. Her voice trails off into a scream and she takes a step towards the girl.

“Help?! You ruined my life!”

Carpenter didn't have time to think about what she said, but those were exactly the words, the feelings she felt after the betrayal. The lump in her throat again prevented her from saying the rest, but it also prevented her from giving in to her feelings. Biting her lip and glancing over her shoulder at the half-open door, Tara turned back to Amber and took another step so her words wouldn't sound so loud, but now they were soaked with all the pain she'd been through over the past few days. There wasn't much time left to talk.

“You killed people and now you're leaving me alone.”

Amber's face expressed no emotion other than indifference. Her expression remained calm and detached as she watched her lover come closer and closer. Perhaps she liked it when Tara's emotions got out of control, she expected the girl to react that way. Maybe she was waiting for revenge, maybe she was just waiting for her to try to hit her... She couldn't tell. But she knew she deserved it. Did she feel remorse for it? Not at all.

Freeman opened her mouth to say what seemed to be something very important, but she only exhaled and raised her right arm as far as she could. Her movements were restricted because as a criminal she was obviously handcuffed to the bunk. She tilted her head slightly to the side, lowering her gaze. She wanted to believe that Tara would understand her and even after all of this she wouldn't be afraid to touch her. At least one last time.

And that made Tara's breath catch. This was too much. She couldn't see her ex-girlfriend as just a murderer. The problem was, she couldn't love her like before either. It was tearing her heart in two and leaving her with nothing. It was an emptiness so consuming that she wanted to cling to every opportunity just to heal. Just so she wouldn't feel the shards of her broken heart crashing into her soul, and so she took another step. Tentatively at first, with a trembling hand she reached out to Amber, touching her bandaged arm with her fingertips and then placing her palm fully.

It was something Amber had never expected, but had always hoped for. She'd expected many other things from Tara, but not this. She felt the girl's warm hand on hers. It was a wonderful feeling, no matter what. It was as if the girl was trying to show her that there was always room for a little good, no matter how bad or impossible the situation seemed. She liked that. She was even surprised by it. Her fingers closed around the girl's fingers. That little movement was Amber's way of expressing the fact that Tara always had a place in her heart. But...

This wasn't the kind of horror movie that ended with a good ending. At least that's how Amber saw it, especially when her plan went awry. There was definitely nothing left to lose now and she was going to take the one thing that mattered to her with her. She certainly wasn't going to lose to Sam on this one.

Killing people was a lot easier than trying to free one hand from handcuffs by breaking a finger. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but it was worth it. She'd done even before her ex had arrived, but almost as soon as night fell.  Slowly sitting down on the bunk, she looked sympathetically at Tara, clearly in pretense, and then took advantage of the moment to grab her by the scruff of the neck and pull her to her, holding the girl with a dead grip as close as she could.

There was only frustration and horror in Tara's eyes. It was as if she realized what was about to happen and was trying to prepare herself for the final blow, the worst possible moment. But there was no fear. She had already experienced far worse, she had already experienced betrayal worse than anything else. Now she was ready for the final moment. To meet her death cuddled against her friend's chest. To die feeling her lover's warm body against hers.

“Sorry, baby.”

Amber's words sounded cold-blooded and cruel, yet so gentle at the same time. Deceptively so. Only the breath Tara felt against her ear was scalding hot, reminding her that this monster was human, that this monster was her girlfriend, and that none of that mattered because the younger Carpenter had lost. 

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Amber's soft lips pressed in a gentle kiss to her princess's neck, but only as a false sense of security, because just seconds later her teeth sank into the girl's flesh, digging in as deep as possible, as painful as possible, until she felt she had not achieved her goal. Tara may have been intended in her script as the final girl, but everything had gone to hell at the last moment in that house and now the script had to be urgently rewritten. No matter how much Carpenter resisted, she couldn't get out of this trap.

Hearing the girl's scream, a policeman immediately rushed into the room with a gun at the ready and another holding a walkie-talkie to his chest for communication. 

It was too late. Tara could barely stay on her feet and gave her last strength to cling to the bunk like a lifeline. Blood hotly began to flow profusely from her neck and her vision slowly began to fade.

This time Ghostface had taken his last girl. Now this was the kind of ending that could be called dignified. Not the one she and Richie had planned for.... But it was even better this way.

Amber's gaze shifted to the cop with a wide grin.

“Now they definitely won't make a shitty movie.”

[thatgirlonstage]

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by how ephemeral most art is. Even outside willful capitalist greed that pulls shows and films from streaming (or refuses to even release them in the first place) and refuses to make video game consoles backwards compatible—even with the best will and effort to preservation in the world—paints and dyes and fabrics fade and degrade over time. Stone and metal statues get worn down. Colors aren’t perfectly replicable on new monitors or with new ingredients. DVDs and CDs and records get scratched. Files lose data. Film gets worn out. Things can’t be copied with complete fidelity to their original — brushstrokes or colors or sound quality will have shifted, even with the most careful effort, even if you are using the same medium (and if you can’t use the same medium, eg digitizing something originally on film, you will inevitably lose some things you can’t get back. Fuzziness and timbre and color quality that artists knew they were working with and whether they leaned into it or worked around it they expected it to be there and their absence will inevitably be felt). Plain text is essentially the only thing that can at least theoretically be copied without any loss of information, but even that is only in theory! Typos and misprints and errors plague any copy. Debates rage over whether something in an older version was an error corrected in a later edition or an intentional choice that got revised for whatever multitude of possible reasons. I haven’t even touched art that is by its very nature ephemeral from the start — live performance and installations made of living plants and art where the whole purpose is watching something fall apart.

Idk. I am desperately and fiercely in favor of all efforts at preservation of art while also being painfully aware of how impossible it is to preserve anything forever. Go to the theatre and feel with your whole heart how incredible it is to witness something that will only be done exactly like this just once, just today, just right this moment, and then it will be gone forever, whether its alterations are obvious or almost imperceptible they will be there. Then expand that feeling to everything you touch and feel at once lucky and heartbroken.

[thedeathdeelers]

idk i feel like we’ve already talked about this (we did!! it’s here!! by the lovely @mac-lilly) but a sweet home alabama-ish juke au. yknow. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to enemies to lovers again

mostly for this scene:

“nice dress,” he shouts over the rain and the sound of waves crashing against the shore. “where’s your husband?” he barely throws a glance at her, his eyes quickly averting back to his task at hand — burying the rods deeper i to the sand.

julie is drenched from head to toe, her wedding dress ruined, her hair a nightmare — her make up is probably leaking all over her face, and her feet are aching. but as she gets ready to give him her answer, she can’t help but smile — a genuine one.

“i’m looking at him,” she says simply.

luke stops moving, his back to her as his arms hang on either side of the metal rod he was now gripping with a little more force than necessary.

for a moment neither of them say anything, with only the sound of nature roaring around them.

it represented them well — the pouring rain, the crashing waves; the thunderous clouds and blinding lightning: it was a lot, all-encompassing and overwhelming.

their love was a force of nature, and they both knew it.

luke slowly turns around, hands dropping to his sides.

“what are you talking about?” his eyes scan the darkened area behind her, trying to spot the blond head he knows will inevitably pop up. “where’s nick?” he finally asks when he fails to see him.

“he’s not here, luke,” she says, taking a step towards him. luke’s eyes are back on her, as he watches her warily. what was she up to? torturing him until the last minute?

“he left for new york an hour ago.”

just hearing the name of the city that had become julie’s new home reminds luke why he had tried so hard to guard his heart.

he nods brusquely at julie, walking past her as he shouts over his shoulder.

“you should hurry and catch up to him — wouldn’t want to miss your wedding night.” he grimaces as the words leave his mouth, instantly regretting it.

he sounded petty. and he also definitely didn’t want to picture julie on her wedding night with someone…..that wasn’t him.

luke stops to pick up his equipment off the ground, shaking his head as he digs around in the sand to make sure he doesn’t leave anything behind.

“i’m not joining him.”

luke stops moving, his fingers freezing mid-search as her words slowly sink in.

she couldn’t-

she didn’t-

“we didn’t get married, luke.”

her words hit him like a bag of bricks, dropping everything he had picked up as he slowly straightens up, his back still to her.

he takes in a deep breath- and another, eyes closed and fists clenched as he tries to squash down the hope that stubbornly started rising up in his chest.

“why not?”

“apparently,” she starts, her voice slowly getting closer. “…we’re still married.”

luke’s eyes snap open at her statement, swirling around to find her standing only a few feet away.

“still married? but i signed the papers, just like you asked me to.”

“yeah well turns out…i kinda forgot to.” she shrugs, shoulders moving up and down as a small smile makes its way on her face.

“forgot?” he asks incredulously. “forgot?”

luke groans as he rakes his fingers through his hair, letting out a humourless laugh.

“julie,” he says, eyes on hers. “what do you want?”

“you,” she answers simply. “you were my first kiss,” she continues, taking a step closer. “and i want you to be the last.”

that throws him off for a second, recalling a time when they were kids and julie had told him the exact same thing.

they were older now- things were different…right?

luke just shakes his head to clear it, and asks again.

“no i mean- what do you want to be married to me for anyway? wasn’t nick what you were always looking for?”

julie shakes her head as her smile turns blinding, taking a step towards him, and then another, until she was crowding him, standing in his space.

“so i can kiss you whenever i want.”

she grabs his drench collar, and pulls, until he was only inches away.

“and no luke, it was always you.”

[xspeter]

okay i see how much you love miss music industry herself and i was wondering if you would be open to doing a finnick x reader story like based off the betty augustine james love triangle (but like in an au where he never was reaped for the games bc when do you see that) where reader is like augustine and basically finnick has he just as a summer fling but goes back to betty and she's just kind of there watching them from afar being in love while she loves him but was only ever a heat of the moment thing but she really loves him, and then she just kind grows to hate him because he used her and her love, it would be cool if it ended on a kind of angry my tears ricochet kind of note maybe she gets reaped and he like comes back and is worried for her like he actually cares and shes all like "why tf did you come here, you dont care about me you don't love me you just feel fucking guilty bc i could die" i just love the idea of a female rage kind of ending where the sadness and love turns sour bc we never see that, its usually like the reader wallowing and losing themselves over an man and always kind of gets away without any real guilt or remorse, BASICALLY i just want him to feel all the pain and guilt for his actions and kind of just left floundering like that. idk of thats something that peaks your interests but i'd love to read it if you do( this is literally my dream fic to read)!!

𝐁𝐘𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ఌ

sometimes, you feel like a horrible person.

annie cresta and finnick odair were practically royalty. they were perfect for each other, and you were just… there.

until finnick and annie suddenly split, and annie went to visit her grandparents for the summer in the southern part of district four.

then, life seemed to be looking a lot better. finnick came to you for comfort. he knocked on your window in the middle of the night. he wanted you.

he helped you forget about your older brother, who had died in a fishing accident the year prior, and you helped him forget about annie. it was a win-win situation.

the beginning of june had started off awkward, because his wound was still fresh. almost everytime you saw him his eyes were glassy, but eventually, when you saw him he was smiling.

he was smiling at you.

by the end of june you had both admitted your mutual feelings for each other, and had started meeting secretly under bridges, behind buildings, anywhere you could really.

your parents and friends found it odd how much you blew them off, but you had shrugged it off, using the excuse ‘i’m just really busy at work!’

by july you and finnick had already kissed, and you had given him something important to you, your body.

he was the first to ever see it, and you were praying, that he would be the last.

the end of august was when things started to go downhill.

annie cresta had arrived back home on the seventeenth, and as soon as she did, you could feel finnick pulling away from you.

he denied it of course, saying things like, “you’re the only one for me.” or “you know i only love you.”

did you know though?

because now, mid September, you watch them enter a cafe together, holding hands.

finnick never held hands with you in public.

you watch as he kisses her sweetly, paying for whatever it was she ordered with no hesitation.

finnick had ended things with you barely a week ago, and now he’s already back with her? did this summer just mean nothing to him?

you feel the familiar build up of tears and immediately walk away from the shop.

besides, you have other things to worry about. tomorrow, one boy and one girl would be reaped for the 73rd annual hunger games.

you had survived for four years now, but you know you can never be too lucky.

when you heard your name announced, you swear your heart stopped.

“y/n l/n!” selodona, your districts announcer, reads your name from her tiny slip of paper.

with shaky legs you walk to the stage, trying to ignore the eyes on you. trying to ignore his eyes on you.

you don’t need his pity. not after he lied to you for months. not after he tore you apart.

you barely even register the male tribute, until you’re both forced to shake hands. when you do look at him, you recognize him as martin fraser, a boy you often fish with.

he manages a small smile and you attempt to do the same.

“please, a round of applause for this years tributes!”

silence.

instead, numerous people kiss the tips of their fingers, and holds them high in the air. selodona, clearly unsure of what to do, ushers the both of you into the court house.

she shows you both your private rooms where you’ll be given fifteen minutes to say goodbye to whoever you would like.

the first to visit is your mother, father, and younger brother, jaxon.

your mother tells you to stay vigilant, your father tells you to utilize your strength in the water, and your brother pleads with you to stay alive.

after they leave, your friend, masriska visits. she’s crying and by the time she leaves so are you.

you don’t expect the doors to open again after she leaves, so when they do, your heart immediately drops.

you don’t even have to turn around to know who’s entered the room.

“y/n-” finnick starts, but you cut him off.

“dont even say anything.” you snarl, wrapping your arms around your chest and turing around to look at him.

his eyes are glassy and he’s shaking, but you don’t care.

he doesn’t get the right to care about you anymore.

“y/n, please,”

“why are you here finnick?” you question, “because the last time we talked, you told me that you had never meant for our relationship to move past just a summer fling. that you had always planned to go back- go back to her!” you shout.

finnick tenses and sniffles, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances to the side. “i’m sorry, y/n. i… i really am. and now this is happeing to you and i just-”

“you just what? literally, what?”

finnick stutters, but before he can get out the words peacekeepers are ushering him out of the room.

selodona enters when they leave, pulling you with her to bring you to the train.

and some, sick, twisted, part of you hopes you die in that arena, just so finnick has to live with himself.

has to live, with what he did to you.

bye i hate this. throwing up crying screaming at the sky

[clambuoyance]

ngl I know nothing ab your DC blorbos except they're gay and cool or something Idk I just think they're neat... I'd ask what comics I could read ab them being super blorbo-y but Idk...

OKAY so there’s a lot of characters in dc but the ones I draw/talk about the most are these group of friends!! They feature in Young Justice 1998, Teen Titans 2003, and Young Justice 2019, as well as having their own comics and other appearances :)

each comic run has different vibes but my personal favorite is yj1998 bc I like its wacky and zany vibes. It was not my first comic though, and it’s a little older so it might be hard to understand or read if it’s your first time reading comics like this, and again it is old soooo some stuff does Not age well such as certain jokes or depictions and it is of course not all perfect but overall I love it and think it has a lot of heart

I think i have a lot of fun with it bc it feels so…animated? And it has funny slapstick humor. Honestly I probably like it bc it makes me laugh the same way ninjago makes me laugh…a group of 4+ friends that have cute dynamics with each other and just Being Silly Together. I really don’t know how to explain it but between all three runs, I can see yj1998 in my head the most as a wacky animated show with exaggerated bouncy animation idk so that’s part of the fun for me. I think the moment I realized this was going to be a long term emotional investment was When I read the issue where they randomly end up on a planet and have to play baseball bc I am a SUCKERRR for baseball shenanigans

But yeah the group starts out with Bart, Tim, and Kon in JLA: A world without Grownups, and they just have a good trio dynamic 🙏 the banter between all three is so good 🤩and I liked seeing their friendship develop throughout yj1998 too! Especially for Tim, with his hesitancy at the beginning.They weren’t without conflict ofc but that adds to why I like them bc eventually they became besties for life. They are also quickly joined by others but the main one that stays w the group through all three runs is Cassie Sandsmark , aka Wonder Girl ii.

But yeah I guess some things I like are the way they actually Hang out? like they will do camping trips or go to the mall and games together etc etc, but there will be parts that feel more serious while never losing that humorous tint to it. For some examples, I love how Tim tries to be a leader in the beginning, but then one arc shows just how much Cassie is more fitting for it, and how they bond over Leader things like how hard it is to tell Bart what to do and then will share a really nice hug 🥺, and I love Cassie and Cissie’s relationship a LOT because they sometimes misunderstand each other but clearly care for each other (they aren’t canon but in my heart they are.) I also like Tim and kon’s build towards understanding and friendship for a similar reason, and cissie and Anita also have a nice development with each other, but yeah all the dynamics are just fun to think about tbh 🤷🏻‍♀️ I am pointing at them eagerly and going “wow! Friendship!!”

And as for the guy I never shut up about…well that’s a whole thing I could ramble about but i became obsessed with him the moment he quoted Peter Pan while lamenting about how he was afraid his friends would leave him behind after several issues of him acting like Hot Shit and erm I’m predictable so it got to me 🙄 also he makes dumb jokes every second like he expects someone to laugh at them like he’s so dumb sometimes….anyways I do not want to ramble too much so I will get on with it

I was only familiar with his black tshirt look before, so when I first saw this goofy looking dumbass with a leather jacket and glasses and an earring I WAS LIKE “THATS SUPERBOY? THATS REAL?” and quickly became interested in the notion of a Superman associated hero wearing something like this bc I don’t think my brain ever considered the possibility before….also it is something I cannot explain some panels just activate my cuteness aggression 😔 I just think he’s really cute 🫶🫶🫶

[f0point5]

hey this is not relevant but ive always seen you as a bit of an older sister figure, so i thought i'd ask for advice on a ~guy situation. im in my second year of uni and there's a guy i got super close to just as friends, and i thought here and there he was giving me signs. i did start to (and do) be into him a LOT but i never tried for anything or even genuinely wanted more (outside of my dreams lol) because i do think we're better as friends and ive had a string of 3 bad relationships for the past two years so about time i stick to single city yeah? for the past couple of weeks he's been a bit weird and distant and lately he's back to normal but honestly i think the hot and coldness i can deal with by just sternly giving myself a talking to and not getting carried away in the good times nor getting too down when im suddenly not getting that affection or attention.

but my question was how do you stay firm and confident and not get "whipped" i guess especially when its someone you really like but know you absolutely shouldn't go for? the only way i can think of is distancing myself which i really don't want to do because i like him a whole lot as a friend. and how do i remind myself of the benefits and importance of staying single and not develop crushes quickly or get bummed about not having a boyfriend?

I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to answer this my app has been glitching for days 😭

First, idk how serious the distance is but I’d talk to him about it if this isn’t normal. Lots of friendships have ebbs and flows, you have weeks/months where you’re not that close. Guys especially can be like that. But if the distance was unusual and he came back with no explanation, I’d casually bring it up. Just so you know if it’s something you can expect, or just to check in if he was going through something.

Thing is, if you like him, you like him. But if he’s just someone you get along with that you enjoy attention from, that’s different. Either way, though, what you should remember is that - signs or not - you deserve someone who is going to put a giant flashing light saying “I like you” if that’s the case. If he liked you, he would say so. And if he can’t say so, he’s not someone you want to mess with because that’s not a grown man that you can rely on and trust with your heart. Just my take. Have fun with him, enjoy his company, flirt a little bit if that’s the vibe lol but girl…the man who is going to be good for you is a guy who is going to go above and beyond to make you feel loved and appreciated and currently it’s not this one. So he’s a friend.

As for not wanting a boyfriend…that’s not a bad thing. It’s normal to want a relationship. But go out, date, focus on what you want out of a relationship and finding a guy who ticks ALL the boxes. Don’t focus on “I want a boyfriend” so much as “I want a man who is xyz and I want a relationship where I feel abc”. Because men are everywhere, anyone can get a boyfriend. It’s getting the *right* one that is going to make the experience worthwhile. Because women…we’re givers. We add so much to a man’s life. Our challenge is finding someone who is giving the same back to us. So if you’re not a person who loves being single, that’s okay, just never lose sight of the fact that a boyfriend is supposed to make your life better, not harder.

I hope this helps ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

[b0mblover]

Greed makes me sick. 

By: J

Woo fucking hoo, gotta love projection! (this was 100% self indulgent, idk how well it actually works with jiro but! Oh fucking well! At least im getting smth done ig) 

Cw; Selfharm, Suicide Ideation, Jiro generally being unhealthy, awful writing

Once again; sorry for your eyes, goodluck

Jiro laid in his bed, glancing at the clock on his phone every so often, around 21:34. Mindlessly scrolling through some of his friends' accounts, he never wanted to admit it, but he does in a way enjoy ‘stalking’ his friends, “friends” being mostly of people he's never met or talked to a day in his life, but that's never really mattered to him. 

Usually it's just to catch up on everything, ‘oh they finally got married’ etc. boring stuff, but why the hell not. 

But other times like today, it made him want to throw up. He was happy for them, sure, but there was a disgusting jealousy spreading throughout his chest, traveling down his esophagus, down to his stomach, and setting there. He’s felt it before, the first few times it happened, he thought he literally had to throw up, resulting in him essentially purging to get the feeling out; it didn't ever work. He gave up on trying, it usually went away on its own, just how long would it take was the question. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. It was all a possibility. The longer he felt it, the worse it became. He’d liked to say that it started off slowly, but it never did. Usually the first thing he jumped to was ‘I'll never be like them, no matter how hard I try, so what's the point in living?’ He wished he could say it was irrational, but it just wasn't. He knew due to one reason or another, he couldn't be like them, no matter how hard he tried, no matter for how long he never gave up. He would always fail. He wished he could also say that he had no desires, that would be a lie too. Seeing people do what you've wanted to do for years of your life, that you never came close to doing, so easily, it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It. Hurt. and he wished he could say it didn't. He wished something so very mundane didn't hurt. He hated jealousy, he hated greed, perhaps that's why it hurt so much more. Because he was a hypocrite. It's not like he wished that they weren't able to do that, he just wanted to be able to do it too.  

Jealousy, is an odd word. People always assume that if you are jealous- that you wish ill on whoever you’re jealous of. But that couldn't be further from what he felt. Sometimes, it was tiring to constantly work and work for something others have so easily, that you'll never get. Why does life deal such shitty hands to people who care? Or is it the other way? Shitty hands in life make you care? Either way, it still made him sick.  

Somedays, he got off easy, he knew it's not their fault, sometimes motivated by a ‘you'll get there someday, you just have to keep trying’. Days like this though, that wasn't the case. Trying is pointless, not that he just feels like it, but it is. No amount of trying or wishing will ever work. Shitty hand remember? So if he couldn't do what he wanted, what was the point in living? Maybe he was crazy, fucking insane even, no one talks about this sort of thing, there's probably a reason, right?  

He sat up on his mattress, took a look at his phone, then tossed it across the room. He would’ve thrown it, but he didn't see a point in breaking the phone or wall if he was angry. He wasn't even angry either, just like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should be, and that hole was filled with bile.  

He looked down and stared at his hands, disgusting. Failure. He was a failure. He had good grades, sure, but it really didn't mean anything. Grades are just numbers, and numbers that didn't matter to him. If When he gets older, he's probably not going to be sitting on his deathbed thinking about how he got a 100% on a math quiz. But this?  

He stood up and walked over to his ‘desk’, clean for 4 months at the simple request of a friend. It's not like she’d know or find out if he did it. Well, unless he couldn't keep his mouth shut as usual. Even if she did find out, would she care? Would she even remember what was said? Ha. Maybe she’d tell him how pathetic he was, unable to go past a small styro, he is really pathetic, so it’d be fitting.  

Even if she somehow did ‘care’ as much as she said, wouldn't it be tiresome? That was one of the main reasons he stopped in the first place, taking care of people, even if you love them can be tiresome. So she was bound to get tired and bored of it. She’d probably grow to not care, part of him wanted that.  

He admittedly fantasizes thinks about what would've happened if he hadn't stopped, more than he should. 

Maybe she’d grow annoyed of his break/melt downs, maybe she'd make fun of him instead, he couldn't really blame her either way. Part of him wanted her to grow bored of him, but the other selfish part, hated the idea. Even now, he considered reaching out “You don't have to suffer alone, I’m always here, you’ll never annoy me.” but..  

He appreciated it, but it probably wasn't meant for something like this. What was the point? It wasn't like he was gonna kill himself, no matter how badly he wanted to. Sure, it wasn't a necessarily ‘healthy’ coping mechanism, but. It's not like he could do much damage anyways right? This was just like scratching himself when he was pissed off, not healthy, but what could anyone do? It didn't really hurt, so what would be the point in taking it away?  

Without caring enough to think it through, he picked up the blade, and sliced through the mid of his forearm. It stung. More than usual, but who even cares. He spun his chair around, then sat down. He brought the blade to his arm again- he really was pathetic, wasn't he? Slice- even if someone for some reason cared- slice- it's not like they should, he was pathetic and needy- slice- maybe some people in this world are supposed to die? Or suffer at least- slice- but, he didn't really want anyone else to suffer. If he met someone just as himself, would he hate them too? Or would he take pity? Slice- He smiled. His arm felt weak. Hand shaky. No one was coming to save him. No one knew of what he’d done. No matter what, he’s always alone. He deserved it.  

He stared at his arm for a few minutes, the deepest he’s ever cut, after not even 5 minutes, it looks pathetic again. God he's stupid. What if she somehow does find out? She wouldn't outwardly say how pathetic he is, she wasn't that type of person. She’d probably show some sort of concern. Fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck FUCK. She’ll probably show some sort of care, attention. He didn't want that. Great. Now it looks like he did it all just for attention! Fucking wonderful.  

He glanced at his phone that had been lazily thrown on the floor, part wishing someone messaged, anyone, but dreading having to respond. No matter how much he loved them, responding right after this thing, he always seemed off, too off. 

He took a breath, trying to collect what little of himself was left. He should get something to drink. Yeah, that’ll probably make him feel at least a bit more level-headed.  

But there again, he is a waste of space, failure, etc. he’s heard most of the names by now mostly from himself but that didn't matter, does he really deserve something as simple as drinking? Even basic things do cost money, even if just a few cents. Why waste it on himself? But his throat is so dry still,,  

He walked out of his bedroom, hitting his face on the door, forgetting it was very muchly locked, precaution. He wanted to lash out, take every bit of anger out on it but then…. Nothing. Numbness. He didn't even have a good reason to feel angry. It was his fault anyways. He took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and walked out.  

Walking to the kitchen, slower than usual, he started to wonder again with how he was going to hide his awful wonderful misdeed. Makeup worked.. Well honestly for him it worked awfully. Nothing ever seemed to match in all lighting, plus that was only really an option for scars, tactile cuts didn't really improve much when paired with a powder or creme (?? sorry idk), plus it could run the risk of infection. Right? He's never seen anything warning against it so maybe not? But putting something that has chemicals like that into a cut, it didn't seem correct. Considering what minuscule things could cause infection. Not that he'd mind getting infected and slowly, painfully dying. He just didn't like the look generally.  

What could he do then? Wear a jacket like normal, sure, but she always finds out somehow. Gods know how, not him, but somehow. He could bandage it sure, but that ran the risk of even more questions, it wasn't exactly news that he didn't care about proper ‘aftercare’ like that. Sure, not properly covering it, cleaning the blade etc. could cause infection, but.. Well. He didn't have any excuses, he was just biased in some ungodly way that he never noticed right until that very moment! (Large cough. H e l p.) 

Grabbing a random cup, he decided to just tough it out like usual. Try to not show his arm in any setting but not be weird about it, try to act normaler than usual, sure it’ll suck, but it's between that and in his mind, ‘looking like an attention seeker’. He poured out what wasn't even 1/4th of a cup of water into the cup. His throat was just dry, it's not like he'd die from dehydration any time soon. Sure, he's human, doesn't that mean he just needs the absolute minimal amount of care? Hell, this couldn't even be considered minimal! He has a roof over his head, water, food, there's so much more he could go without, gods he's selfish huh? He sat down his empty glass beside the sink, very quietly laughing under his breath, pathetic, wasn’t it? He’s so selfish, he has it well, yet he acts like he has nothing! What more could he ask for in life? Stability? What a joke. He should really be more grateful. 

He stared at the glass glass beside him, staring into his distorted reflection. Well, at least there was always a way to fix it all. In the back of his mind, he was always running though, listing off methods, quickest, easiest, cheapest, messiest, etc. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never figured out the ‘perfect suicide’ in his own eyes. 

Though, recently, a method stuck his eye. Nitrogen gas. He’d heard it takes one out quickly, but makes them struggle and suffer beforehand. Perfect for himself. No time to back out because of how quickly it takes you, pain before death, he’d never wanted a peaceful one. It was near perfect. But one of the main issues was managing to get any. Or get around any in general. (little did Jiro know; he was only a few letters off from his actual suicide; that being Nitroglycerin!)  

But, he doubted it was realistic, for reasons already stated, so he was stuck with whatever other incredibly fucked method he inevitably decides on. It's not like he probably will anytime soon either, no matter how much he wants to. He walked back to his room, flopping down as soon as he was close enough for at least his face to hit the mattress. Thud totally comfortable.  

He stood up once again, actually closing his door this time. Then sitting on the bed properly, right, shit, his phone. No, no one probably texted, they're all busy. What can only be described as a mantra he mentally spoke, trying his best to not get his hopes up and what left of his heart shattered, even if he was always deep-down hoping, begging for any sort of message.  

He walked around to the far wall, and picked up his phone, quickly turning it around, anticipation and tension always left more room for disappointment. He seen the messaging app icon and- no one. A stupid update reminder. He’d rather’ve seen absolutely nothing than that. But whatever, they're busy, she's busy. He reminded himself, trying to subside the constant idea that they all fucking loath him for everything that he's ever done. But it's probably true though right? Of course it is. They all hate him. No matter how close, they all do. He’ll never change, will he? Why even bother at this point, he loved talking to them all sure, but why do they bother to talk to him? Pity? Perhaps. A disgusting feeling crept back up into his stomach and esophagus, it unknowingly had disappeared some minutes ago. Not like it mattered now. He tossed his phone to the side of his bed, on the ground, not bothering to charge it. It's not like anyone will message anyways. He's an idiot, everytime, everyday, why does he still feel such anticipation anyways? The answer didn't matter. He was tired. He didn't want to sleep, he hadn't gotten anything done, hell he was bored. But he had no energy to do anything. Just because of some stupid post. Sensitive. Weak. Pathetic. Why was he even still here? He's just dead weight to everyone he meets. What is the point. 

He laid there, he didn't know for how long, it didn't matter, he heard a door shut, they're back. He couldn't talk to them or face them like this. No. He’ll fake sleeping, maybe he’ll fall asleep in the process, that'd be nice, or if he never woke up, both seem ideal to him. 

He laid on his stomach, right arm obscuring his face, left in a weak fist. It was a default ‘I swear I'm asleep’ pose, shockingly comfortable too!  

Staring at the back of his eyelids, repeating bright colours and vague shapes started appearing, in a way it always felt a bit soothing, it was always there for him.  

Even when he wasn't there for himself.