#angst scenario

[gutghost]

Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?

It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.

It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.

That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.

Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?

bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.

"My love, my everything, oh please-"

"Dont."

Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.

A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.

"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."

Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.

"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"

You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.

"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."

They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.

"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"

You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggle to breathe. Whether it be from guilt or heartbreak, you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so

"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"

Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.

Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?

Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.

They will have you be their's again.

that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.

[ladybyakuya]

are we still friends? + (ren kaji, hayate suo, umemiye hajime, sakura haruka)

cws. | gn!reader, headcanon + scenarios format, sorta character study, fluff, angst, comfort. | redirect to blog navigation.

syn. | How do they react to confession when the feelings are mutual?

notes. | Will there be part two? who knows? but for now please have these. I forgot how to write smut so I'm writing fluff. 

☆ Ren Kaji: Ren does not like talking or listening so he pretends that he can not hear and with his headphones on it's easier to convince but when you specifically ask him to take it off so that you could talk it annoys him. He rarely takes his headphones off since it was a gift from someone. So all he does is to take the lollipop out of his mouth and say, "You can talk. I am not listening to anything," It really irritates you but you do not wish to act on it right now. He has started to grow a little too comfortable with your presence around him and maybe. . .just maybe it's time to create a ripple in his stagnant heart. At the rooftop of the school, where gentle breeze and sunlight prevails you say you like him and watch his eyes go bigger. He takes off his headphones with utmost haste demanding, "Say that again," but now it is your turn to annoy him. All your comebacks are full of: "no." , "Did you not listen when i said once?" , "This is why i told you to take your headphones off," and so on. You are so engrossed in conversing with him that you fail to notice his swift motion of leaning and planting a kiss on your cheek. Your lips cease to move for a while yet it is ever so quick and swift that it happens within a blink of your eyes. "Okay, I'll say it for you then," Ren says. Gulping and continuing, "Y/n likes Ren Kaji. and I like you too." in one breath and just vanishes out of your sight. The next few days he is spotted sleeping at unusual times because he has spent sleepless nights regretting why he did not take his headphones off.

★ Hayate Suo: Suo has known for a while that you like him. Well, he is not too sure but he always had a pretty good idea when it comes to emotions. He has probably known even before you that you could harbor feelings for him so when he hears the rumors from other students he does not react much except with some snarky comments to shut those rumors with his sickly sweet saccharine smile. But hearing it from you, at some secluded place near the bike stand of the school is certainly is out of the syllabus for him. At first, he does not know what to say, what to do, or how to react but when your eyes slowly look up to meet him the first thing he thinks if you did it because of rumors or some sort of dare. If so, then both are wrong. He thinks confession should come when it's time not when it is influenced by others. So, all he says is: "I know." eyes blinking a little too much, unable to consider you as his focal point. " I've known for a while." And then, he asks for some time to think about it which is unexpected because from what you have heard he has rejected every other proposal that came his way. You came prepared to be rejected when you decided to confess but this goes out of the syllabus for you too. So, you end up thinking if this is his new way of tormenting people who like him but he really needs time to properly think because he thought there is no way he thought you would like him back. He does not want to hurt you. That goes against his morals. He could feel his cheeks being warm, ears too, palms tucked behind his back cold, and rapid heart rate. "So, this is how it feels to be confessed."

☆ Umemiya Hajime: Being an older brother to everyone has never been a bother until he developed a gut wrenching crush on you or that is how he would like to put it. Not only that, you have developed quite a friendship with Kotoha ever since you started helping her out in her resturant. You are probabaly same age as her which makes things a little more complicated. Was it not enough that you might be under the impression that Kotoha is his girlfriend? Like most other people; But thanks to Sakura for clearing that confusion up. Still. . .still he feels his heart twist whenever he visits the resturant. All he does is to silently watch you. He could have easily creeped you out if you had not developed a crush on him. When Umemiya's visits became you became a little bold, like talking to him, asking about his day, exchanging numbers but never have been alone with him. He always comes with his band of boys. It denifitely nice to hear him laugh, talk and sometimes steal sneaky glances but it does not help with the wave of emotions he makes you feel. So, one day when the door bell chimed and as usual you said, "Welcome" looking in the direction of entrance ceasing your chores all you could do is stare for a moment since the customer is none other than Umemiya Hajime and he is all alone. So, you repeat again, "Welcome Umemiya-san." tearing your gaze away from him. "Kotoha is busy. Should I let her know that - he cuts you off with," i'm not here for her today." sipping water ever so slowly from the glass you just served on the coaster. Is he nuts? is he really doing this? Right now? why is he not freaking out? or maybe he is, internally, just like you. "I'm here for you today." And, when he confirms you turn around to get a proper look. 

"I see," you say.

"You didn't answer my call so i had to come here," Umemiya remarks. 

"so, you are here to scold me?" Umemiya's heart drops in some bottomless pit. He did not mean it to come out this harshly. He is just tensed, especilly after how you texted last night : "I like you Umemiya-san." 

"did you check your phone after last night?" and to that you just nod. You do not want to and who honestly would after confessing to the brightest star. You are so out of league from him. Umemiya smiles. "I see," he speak softly. He gets up and then he is about to leave but just before exting the door he says, "Please, check you phone."

★ Sakura Haruka: Sakura has a habit of talking, and going on and on about it unless someone interrupts. If possible, he would talk in one breath. So, when you say that you like him he dismisses it as a joke. "quit kidding. Nobody likes me. y'know that. . ." And there goes your probably hundred-and-fifth confession. He never takes it seriously no matter how serious you try to be Sakura manages to bungle up your intentions so quick yet you can not seem to blame him. If anything he is too honest, so often he comes as rude and obnoxious but his intentions are so pure that sometimes it makes you think can a person be this stupid? But this time when you confessed you thought this would go in the usual direction; him dismissing it as a joke but this time when he looks at you he is faced with something new, something he is not good at handling. "you. . . are you crying?" And it dawns on you how heavy your heart has become with his oblivious nature. all those "I like you-s." never reached his heart, only his head. You quickly wipe away your tears and try to cover it up with the most brilliant lie ever to exist. "It's just dirt." given his oblivious nature he is supposed to buy but he is asking questions again. "You. . . all these time. . . were serious?" Yes, you absolute dimwit. You can not even nod to confirm his thinking. You swallow hard trembling lips parting to speak and you are met with his chest with his arms wrapped around you. " I-I ... was told that if you like someone...you can hug them... y'know when they ...say they ...like you," he starts to stammer and it creates a swarm of laughter arises from your stomach. "Whoever told you that must know a lot about dating," you say having a fair idea who it might be.

[2-dsimp]

I'm feeling quite sadistic today hehe so I'm craving ANGSTT

What if Xavier learned that darling fears he will be left alone after they died? Like they don't want them to be lonely and so they stayed and gave Xavier the attention and all the time of the world they had at their behest

Thank you for heeding my request, Your Grace 😈

Cw: angsty hours

———-/——-/————

Yandere Poltergeist! Who Would just cackle and call you a dumb baby. As if you’d ever got a chance at deserting him even after your death in the first place. He’s been mooching off your company and he intends to keep it that way. No matter if you’re being put down 6ft under, bones n all, you’d still be his.

You think he’d let those pesky Angels guide your soul to heaven? No, they’d have to try to do so over his pure spite. At anything standing in between you and him. He’d keep your soul hostage inside this house so you both can rot in lingo together.

Though Xavier can’t deny the faint stinging from his eyes. No, those aren’t tears! He’s clearly destabilizing his corporal form is all. It’s not as if your death would break him down even more than he is already. But why does his soul waver at the thought of not being able to feel your fleshy body? At not hearing your beating heart, and the prospect of seeing the light of life within those vibrant eyes slowly fade away…

“Fuck, instead of thinking useless shit with that pretty head of yours. How about you focus more on living till you’re old and gray? You’re my flesh bag and I intend to use ya to the fullest...”

“So don’t ever think about leaving me. I won’t let you. And that’s a promise.”

[luvmake]

10 TROPES (I guess?)

1) crushing on your child’s preschool teacher who you find out thanks to your very outspoken kid that they’re very much single, and now you feel less guilty about kissing them after hours in their colorful office.

2) falling for your sister/brother’s best friend but it’s unrequited, and your sister/brother confesses to them before you can.

3) enemies to lovers but you’re both heirs to your respective kingdoms, and once you start to realize you’re falling for them, you’re informed they’ve been arranged in marriage to someone else.

4) sharing the most intimate kiss in the world with your best friend, only for them to say in the end after stealing the breath out of your lungs that it meant “nothing”.

5) your childhood friend grows up so beautifully it quite literally leaves you breathless, even more so when their greek god-like face is so near yours, whispering how they’ve always wanted to be yours.

6) waltzing in the dead of night with the so-called ostentatious vampire of the hill castle, and realizing they’re not as bad as the townspeople make them out to be.

7) right person, wrong time where with an aching heart, you bid your farewell under a crooked umbrella, outside a train station and the only warm thing about that day was the feeling of your lips pressed against theirs.

8) morning aftercare with your very hungover and very gorgeous roommate, and you think they’re still buzzing with alcohol when they give you a half-smile, lean over and slide the pad of their thumb on the corner of your lip, cleaning off a little breadcrumb.

9) popular student and nerd, but you’re honestly forgetting what subject they should be tutoring you in (was it calculus? physics? you could care less) when all your focus was on their cute pouty mouth speaking in geek, how glistening their eyes are and how badly you wanted to shut them up with a kiss.

10) falling for the ghost haunting your apartment complex, only for them to hold you fondly one day and tell you they’ve found peace (in you) and that they must now go rest.

[unforgivenn]

HIDE AND SEEK

The night crept in with a cloak of chilling silence, broken only by the distant howl of the wind.

Whumper stood amidst the gnarled trees, a figure shrouded in darkness. He moved with calculated grace, each step a predator's silent stalk.

Whumpee cowered in the corner of the neglected cabin, the wood groaning in protest against the weight of its own decay. Fear coiled around Whumpee's heart like a serpent, its icy grip tightening with every ragged breath.

The door creaked open, hinges protesting the intrusion. Whumpee's gaze darted towards the entrance, trembling with a mixture of dread and desperate hope for help.

Whumper's silhouette loomed in the doorway, a specter of nightmares giving form. His presence suffocated the air, tainting it with the stench of fear.

"Come," Whumper's voice slithered into the room, a serpent's hiss laced with promises of pain. "It's time to play." He said in a sing-song voice as if it was nothing but a mere child's play

Whumpee's heart hammered in his chest, a primal rhythm of terror. He knew escape was futile, trapped in the web of Whumper's twisted game. He slapped a hand to his mouth, trying not to make any noise and drown out his pathetic sobs.

Whumpee could hear whumper's steps coming closer to them as he shut his eyes tight wishing that the walls would somehow swallow him whole. It would be much better than what whumper would have in store for him.

He knew he never should have ran. He should have been good. Now he's going to get himself hurt all over again.

Whumper suddenly jumped up behind whumpee grinning at how the other flinched violently, his eyes widening in terror, to afraid to look at the sadist behind him.

Whumper grabbed whumpee's shirt lifting him up in the air. A task much easier than thought.

"Found you"

[shu-box-puns]

Listen I might have made myself guilty of devouring your grumpy!Dad Tsu'tey AU and loving it. (Unironically bless your heart for giving us that gift.)

I DO however love angst. So imagine a scenario of the "AU" where Spider got captured in which he also lost his memories ? And Quaricht took that ball and ran with it ?

How would Tsu'tey react when after MONTHS of Spider having been captured, of him not knowing where is son is or how save he is, Tsu'tey is met with a Spider not knowing who he is.

How'd Tsu'tey react to seeing his boy with hair cut short, decked out in RDA/military garb fully believing he was always with them ? How would he react to Spider not only having no idea who Spider even is (calling himself Miles) but also calling the demon Quaritch "father".

And worst of all, how's Tsu'tey dealing with the fact that Spider views him nothing more than another enemy ? Having no recollection of anything before he got captured - fully believing the story Quaritch told him of "savag Na'vi warriors".

(Bonus if when Tsu'tey manages to ring him down/take him with him, he sees actual genuine fear in Spider's eyes)

As an angst enjoyer myself, I AM IN LOVE! *Is visibly vibrating with excitement* I love this concept! The ANGST would be delicious and plentiful! As if this poor man hasn't already lost everything, and now you plot to take away his son too! You're evil and I LOVE it!

To put it simply, Tsu'tey would be devastated.

He would be absolutely devastated, to see every aspect of Spider's childhood wiped from his son's appearance, only to be replaced with RDA military attire instead.

Let's imagine Tsu'tey's somehow comes across Spider in the forest, and he's tucked out of sight in a tree, whilst the recom squad passes noisily below.

Tsu'tey is tense on his branch, reaching for an arrow as his eyes scan their numbers. The sight of avatar sized guns strapped to the recoms' backs make his stomach turn. His bullet scars itch at the memory of what a mere human sized weapon could do, he could only image the devastation those weapons could create.

And then his breath faulteres as his eyes fall on his son.

His son who has been missing for several months, and now looks alien to him.

His boy whose braids that Tsu'tey spends every second week brushing out and rebraiding, had been hacked off, the blond hair shorn close to the scalp all over. His boy, who has switched out his loincloth for stuffy trousers and a stiff shirt. His person entirely devoid of all Omaticayan accents and his jewellery that the Sully kids made him completely gone. His boy who no longer wears the blue painted stripes that closely resembled Tsu'tey's own markings. His boy who is wearing BOOTS of all things!

Since he could walk, Spider had always rejected boots to the point of breaking down until his feet were free. Eywa, the boy could not even tolerate socks.

What really unsettles him however, is how at ease Spider clearly is in the presence of the recoms. How he jokes with the lower ranking officers and easily accepts rough shoulder pats from the demon clone of his biological father. It's such a stark difference to when Tsu'tey last saw him biting and screaming at them all, in a feeble attempt to get away, that it makes him freeze.

Now lets also imagine that Spider is briefly separated from the recoms, perhaps to refill his canteen in a nearby river whilst the patrol walks on ahead. Meanwhile, Tsu'tey silently descends from the canopy, and appears at Spider's elbow. He crouches low so the patrol won't see him, his bow tucked over his shoulder, before he leans in close to his boy, keeping his voice low.

<"Spider-"> He gets out nothing else, as the boy abruptly flinches away and turns on him. His canteen tumbles into the river and is washed away by the current, but Tsu'tey is only briefly distracted by it, because Spider has drawn a utility knife and is pointing it at Tsu'tey. But worst of all, he's not seeming to recognise him.

<"Spider."> Tsu'tey soothes, eyes searching his son's wild gaze. The boy is visibly shaking, the knife waving in his unsteady grasp as it hovers between father and son. <"Be calm. It is only me."> "Who the fuck are you!?" Spider demands way too loudly. "And why the hell can I understand you?"

Tsu'tey's ears fall in dismay. He can't image what his boy has been through that he cannot remember his own father's face. Licking his lips, Tsu'tey shifts on his hunches. He keeps his hands visible and his posture relaxed. Spider isn't calming down in his presence, and it is almost as unsettling as the obvious fear in the boy's expression. "Spider, it's me, your Dad, remember?" He points to himself.

"No you're not!" Spider instinctively corrects, he swallows loudly, and seems to get the message that Tsu'tey isn't about to attack him and sits up. He's still clearly uneasy, keeping the knife firmly between them, but he's no longer looking like he's about to bolt. "Now look, I have no idea who you are or why you keep calling me 'Spider', my name is Miles. But, you cannot be here! If my Dad catches you he will kill you."

<"I will kill him first!"> Tsu'tey knee jerkingly promises, only to quiet again when Spider looks startled. Tsu'tey can hear the recom squad circling back, and needs to make a decision. <"As you said, there is no time. We must go now!">

"I don't know you!" Spider repeats, "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

<"Yes you do, and you are!"> Tsu'tey insists. <"Now stop being difficult!"> Mind made up, Tsu'tey abruptly leaned forward and scooped Spider out of the dirt and up over his shoulder. The boy is startling light in his arms, way lighter than he had been months before his capture, but there's no time to think about it, because Spider is wriggling and getting louder.

"PUT ME DOWN!" Spider screeches, thumping his fist down on Tsu'tey's shoulder blade as the hunter rose to his feet and leapt across the river. "STOP! PUT ME DOWN!" Spider begs frantically as Tsu'tey hauls him away from the river and into the undergrowth. "DAD!" His boy screams, yelling for the help of someone else. "DAD! HELP! DAD!"

Shouts from the recom squad sound from beyond the river. There's splashing and then the snap of twigs.

"DAD!" Spider screams again, the volume of his voice startling the birds overhead.

"Be quiet Spider." Tsu'tey finds himself pleading.

"PUT ME DOWN!"

Tsu'tey does not.

Spider keeps yelling for help.

The recoms begin to gain on them.

And then suddenly, there's a sharp pain digging deep into Tsu'tey's shoulder blade. He cries out, his grip instinctively loosening on Spider who finds his opening and rips himself free. He tumbles from Tsu'tey's shoulder and flops heavily into the dirt with a groan, as the hunter feels warmth flip down his spine from the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

<"What did you do?"> Tsu'tey asks through gritted teeth, trying in vain to see why he hurts, whilst Spider sits collapsed in the undergrowth, looking pale. His knife is no longer in hand, and Tsu'tey can see blood dripping down his lower back and onto the backs of his thighs. <"You stabbed me."> He says aloud, his voice wobbling with the realisation.

And the knife is still in him.

Whilst Spider rolls onto his back and stares up at him with his jaw hanging open in shock, Tsu'tey tries to wrap his head around what has just happened. Spider stabbed him. Spider raised his knife to him. He has NEVER done that before.

The recoms are definitely closing in, but Tsu'tey is too preoccupied.

His throat is tight as he strains to see over his shoulder, his hand pulling his side forward so the skin shifts painfully. But there it is. Buried hilt deep into his flesh, puncturing one of the old bullet scars from the very first war.

Eyes wide in disbelief, he looks back down to his son. His beautiful boy who is shaking and pale, tears collecting along his waterline.

"Leave." Spider whispers wetly.

<"Spider."> Tsu'tey soothes, he swallows tightly, hating the feeling of blood running down his back and dripping onto the back of his thighs. It would heal, he told himself, this didn't mean anything. <"It is okay, I am not angry."> Instinctively, he steps forward to soothe his son as he has countless times before, but for the second time today, Spider scrambles back desperately, eyes wide and frantic.

"Please." His boy emphasises, his legs drawn up close to him as if to block a blow. And he looks so scared and so pale, Tsu'tey is forced to retreat back.

He doesn't want to leave him. Not like this, confused and malnourished. But there is no time.

The shouts of the recoms grow alarmingly close. And Tsu'tey has to go. Every instinct rebels, but he knows he must. He must return to the village, get patched up an return with backup. Anyone, he would even take Jake with him if it ensured Spider would return home safe.

<"I will be back."> He promises, despite how the words clearly unsettle Spider. Whatever this is, they will get past it. Tsu'tey promises himself, as he slips away back into the undergrowth, the pain of his shoulder finally beginning to make itself known now that the shock was wearing off. One way or another, he would get his son back.

[viaarts404]

Adam: owowowowow-

Lucifer: Calm down! It's not that bad!

Lucifer is putting a bandage on a cut on Adam's finger.

Lucifer:ADAM! DAMMIT DONT YOU DARE TO CLOSE YOUR EYES, YOU BASTARD!

Lucifer is putting pressure on a wound on Adam's chest.

Adam: Calm down...it's not that bed.

Adam smirked as everything went dark around him...

[cult-of-husbandos]

toji fushiguro [☯︎] - Himo Romance

synopsis: toji fushiguro takes you on a romantic date to the most fanciest place on earth.

genre: hella crack, angst(?), fluff(?)

word count: 4.9k

warnings: cursing, if you care

The scent of incense lingered in the air, mingling with the warmth of the setting sun as you waited in your small Tokyo apartment. It was a modest space, cluttered with polaroid pics and random shit from either thrift stores or shady internet dealers. Why spend $90 on an air fryer when NutCrusher2378 will sell you one for the low, low price of one feet pic?

Inhale. Exhale.

You once read an article that stated that meditation can decrease stress, pressure, and homicidal tendencies within a person. You glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time, your patience waning as the minutes ticked by. Clearly, fifteen Blood Dragon Mango Orange and sitting in silence for 30 minutes wasn’t doing much for the overbearing burden that is your life. Now, why would a well-balanced person with their own apartment, car, and a source of income need to destress. Despite what your parents tell you every text, call, and holiday you were actually doing very good for yourself. So, why do you have the urge to burn down your apartment building and start smashing every building within a 25 mile radius?

One man.

One incredulous hot as fuck piece of shit man.

Toji Fushiguro, the enigmatic man who had become an unpredictable fixture in your life. You are currently dating a sorcerer that can’t even afford getting a Twix from a vending machine. To be honest, you wouldn’t even really call what you two have a ‘relationship’. Your so-called relationship was nothing more than a precarious balance of convenience, a twisted dance of give and take where you supplied the resources and he… well, he took. The more appropriate name for this would be a ‘situationship’. You cringe any time you or your friends bring up your relationship with him. Like a gross, oozing pimple on prom night, you just want to cover it up and pretend it doesn’t exist. Except the gross, oozing pimple is a 6’1, 190 lbs., lazy, overconfident, sex machine that kills and bums money from everyone just to bet it on a horse named ‘Lucky McCock’ because “with a name like that, he fucks the competition”.

The sound of keys jingling outside your door broke the concentrated silence, and you inadvertently flinched and felt your heart sink as Toji’s unmistakable footsteps echoed through the hallway. Without so much as a warning, he barged into your apartment, his devil-may-care grin lighting up his face. Why in the name of Kwon Ji-yong did you ever think giving him a key would be a good idea?!

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greeted casually, tossing his dirty musty jacket that you bought for him onto the couch. “Miss me?”

You rolled your eyes, the familiar blend of annoyance and resignation settling over you like a thick, suffocating fog. “You were only gone for three weeks this time. Hardly long enough to miss you.”

Toji shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze wandering around the room before landing on the half-empty bag of potato chips on your coffee table. “Hungry,” he declared, making a beeline for the kitchen without waiting for your response.

You sighed inwardly, resigning yourself to yet another evening of Toji’s impromptu visits. As he raided your fridge with the same energy as an ungrateful college student that drops off his laundry and eats your food, you couldn’t help but wonder why you continued to tolerate his antics. Perhaps it’s his gorgeous face that even when nothing but bullshit and snarky remarks come out of it makes you want to sit on it. Or it’s his amazing daddy body that can go round after round with you, but can’t be bothered to move two feet to pick up the remote. Or maybe you have an undiscovered broke as fuck boyfriend kink that makes you dummy stupid.

“Why does it smell like a bunch of temple bastards took a shit in your living room?”

Or maybe, just maybe, you died long ago and this is your eternal hell.

*****

The weeks passed in a blur of half-hearted promises and fleeting moments of intimacy. Toji’s presence in your life remained as unpredictable as ever, his disappearances becoming a twisted routine that you had grown all too accustomed to.

‘Are we even dating?’

A thought suddenly popped into your head. You felt as if your stomach had hit the brakes hard after going over 90 on the interstate. What was really the point of this relationship? Well, it’s not like you both don’t get anything out of it. You both get amazing, mind-blowing sex and he gets a place to crash, food to eat, and money to spend on whatever dumb shit he likes.

…

You know, after laying it down like that, there’s obviously a clear winner that benefits from this in the long run.

However, just when you thought you had reached your breaking point, Toji dropped a bombshell that caught you completely off guard.

“I’m taking you out,” he announced one evening, his expression unusually earnest as he met your gaze. “A fancy date, with all that romantic shit you always bitch about.”

You quirked your eyebrow skeptically, crossing your arms over your chest. “The words ‘fancy’ and ‘romantic’ don’t fit your vocabulary. Your idea of fancy is wearing a button up shirt and your idea of romance is wearing a condom and buying flavored lube.” You sighed as he laughed obnoxiously. “What fancy place do you even know? Aren’t you, like, banned from almost every restaurant, café, dive bar, and soup kitchen within 50 miles of here?”

Toji grinned mischievously, a spark of excitement hinting in his eyes. “It’s a surprise,” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk. “But trust me, you’re gonna love it.”

You honestly doubt that. You know better than to get your hopes high when it comes to Toji’s promises. He either doesn’t deliver or doesn’t show up. Either way, you end up looking like a dumb bitch at the end of the day in your friend’s group chat. Yet, for some unknown reason, you found yourself getting excited.

*****

“Why do I have to be blindfolded for this?” you groaned as Toji guided you throughout the crowded sidewalk. The city buzzed with life around you, its neon lights casting an otherworldly glow as you navigate your way through the labyrinth of alleyways and side streets. You felt the slight breeze of people walking past you and felt the questioning gazes burn into you.

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if you could see where we were going, would it?” he whispered into your ear. “We’re almost there anyway…”

You felt anxiety and interest build in the pit of your stomach, your curiosity piqued as you drew closer to your destination. What sort of extravagant affair had Toji planned for you that you need a blindfold to go there? An underground Michelin-starred restaurant? A moonlit stroll along the riverbanks? An eyes-wide shut party?

As Toji finally came to a stop, you felt your stomach drop and heart race as he reached up to remove the blindfold from your eyes, his lips curling into a triumphant grin.

“Voila!” he exclaimed, gesturing grandly at the dimly lit building in front of you.

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took in the scene before you. You both stood outside a familiar chain restaurant, its red gaudy mascot sign illuminated in garishly bright white letters against the night sky.

Red Lobster.

You blinked in confusion, struggling to process the sheer absurdity of what was happening.

“Red… Lobster?” you echoed incredulously, your voice laced with disbelief.

Toji shrugged nonchalantly, his grin widening into a boyish smirk. “Told ya it was fancy as shit.”

…

“WHAAAAAAAAATTT?!!!”

*****

Words could not describe the unbridled rage you were feeling right now. You could power a small village for 5 years with the amount of fury emanating from you. You sat slumped in the booth with a furious scowl stuck on your face as you stared fiercely at the lying moron currently stuffing his face with Cheddar Bay Biscuits. After gulping down three of the biscuits, he finally looks up at you.

“‘s matter with you?”

“You know damn well what’s the matter with me, Toji.” you seethed.

A few seconds of silence passed as he gulped down the rest of the biscuits. His face remained stoic as he looked you in the eyes.

“You gotta take a shit or somethin’?”

You slammed your fists against the table, sitting up straight and leaning over the table, the jarring sound of the utensils and cups on the table shook people from their conversations and turned their attention towards your table. You could care less what those slack jawed NPCs thought of you. Your attention was focused solely on your smug ass boyfriend.

“Toji,” you breathed harshly, “what the fuck am I wearing right now?”

“Huuh?”

“What the fuck do I have on right now? What kind of clothes do I have on?” You were shaking at this point.

Toji grinned at you smugly. “Whatever it is, it’s hot as fuck.”

“Of course it’s hot as fuck, Toji. And you wanna know why I’m wearing this hot as fuck outfit in this building of impending salmonella poisoning? Because you told me that we were going to a fancy and romantic place. Where people, oh I don’t know, don’t need to take a Pepto Bismol before and after dinner, where waiters speak in a posh accent but you know deep down that they only make 12 dollars an hour, where the food is served relatively fresh and not sitting in a deep-freeze for half year and warmed in a fucking microwave! But no! Here I am, looking like a 100 out of 10 sitting in a stained red booth, at a sticky table, sitting across from a man who looks like I just dragged a homeless man off the street just so I don’t look like a desperate loser coming into a fucking Red Lobster by myself!”

You ended your rant, panting and dropped back into your booth and cradled your head in your arms on the table. You knew this would happen. You just knew it! Leave it to a man with no concept of child support or how a garbage disposal works to take you anywhere relatively nice. The soft chattering and murmurs of the other patrons around you continued on, but you could feel eyes on you specifically. You groaned, not even bothering to raise your head.

“Jesus Christ… you couldn’t even pick a fucking Papadeux? Fucking Red Lobster…”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it,” he quipped, his mouth full of Cheddar Bay Biscuits.

“I have tried it, Toji. Everyone and their great-grandmother comes to fucking Red Lobster at least once for a birthday-anniversary-graduation-bullshit.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

“Toji, your “thought” doesn’t count for shit.”

You didn’t see it, but Toji flinched at your words. A pang of dejection flashed across his face, but just as you rose your head he turned his face back to stoic.

“Where’s the damn waiter?” he muttered, looking around. “AYO! Can we get some damn service?!” Toji loudly called, snapping his fingers.

Your eyes widened and you quickly grabbed his arm. “Oh my fucking… Toji!”

Before he could say anything, a nervous looking waiter walked up to your booth.

“Hello guys, my name is Tommy and I will be your waiter today. Can I get you guys started with anything?”

“Uh, yeah, lemme get a mufuckin’ uuuuhhhhhhhhh…” This went on for a full two minutes. “Lemme get the unlimited oysters.”

You quirked your eyebrow at Toji with a perplexed look as the waiter jotted down his order. “Really? The oysters?”

He lazily nodded.

“Are you sure you wanna lock that in, baby?”

He nodded again, looking disgruntled that you would question his choice of food.

“Like, 100%? Are you really, really sure that’s what you wanna get?”

Toji tilted his head at you. “You questioning me?”

You raised your eyebrows passively and opened your menu. “Alright…” you remark, “It’s your funeral…” You muttered the last part under your breath.

The waiter sensing the tension amongst you two, hurried along the order conversation. “And what would you like to drink?”

“All your drinks are boring, so nothing.” he answered in dismissal, tossing the menu at Tommy who barely managed to catch it.

“And what would you like to order?” He directed his attention towards you.

“I’ll have the grilled half lobster with lemon butter, a tomahawk steak, and a bottle of Gin, please.” you answered, handing the menu to him.

“A-A bottle…?” Tommy the waiter stuttered. “We can mix it into a drink if you preferred–”

“I said what I said.” You looked at the basket on the table. “And can we get some more cheddar biscuits please?”

Tommy nodded with a bow. “Of course. I’ll be back with your drinks and some more biscuits for the table.” And with that, he scurried off.

Toji threw you a smug grin and whistled cheekily. “Wooow, babe. I didn’t know I was dining with royalty.” he chastised and you groaned. “Don’t expect me to pay for your share.”

“Pssh. Please Toji. With what money? It’s so obvious that I’m paying for this meal.”

“Wait, really?”

“Duh, Toji! Of course I’m paying for it! It’s practically routine at this point.” You groan out, annoyed and rolling your eyes. “It’s the main thing you use me for anyway…”

The air is immediately coated in awkward tension between the two of you. It’s not like you said anything wrong. This is Toji Fushiguro you’re talking about. The man only wants three things out of life: sex, money, and to sail through life never paying for anything. You fiddled with your fingernails to fill the dead air when you heard Toji smack his lips at you.

“Can’t you go one fucking second without bitchin’ at me for something so worthless?” he muttered. “What the hell’s wrong Red Lobster? Red Lobster is the epitome of sophistication. The ambiance, the seafood… it's all about setting the mood, babe.”

“Sophistication?” You scoff and look your boyfriend dead in his eyes. “Toji… you eat at fucking Burger King.”

“What the fuck’s wrong with Burger King?!”

“Oh! Hmm! Let’s see! Lemme think! Ummm! Ummm! How about, fucking everything Toji!”

“Do NOT disrespect the King!” Toji's smile faltered slightly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone.

“The King is dead, Toji! Deeeaaad! He OD’d 25 years ago just like everyone else who eats at Burger King!” you shout, no longer caring about raising your voice. “People only eat Burger King because they have to! Never because they want to! Because if that were the case, then everyone would go to McDonald’s! Their food is leagues better!”

“Their Whoppers are a culinary masterpiece.” he seethed at you.

You snort. “Oh yes! You’re so right, Toji. Mm-mm! Yummy! Because nothing turns my appetite on more than a soggy burger and a 72% chance of food poisoning! Or you could just spend the extra dollar and get a Big Mac like the rest of society! And chicken nuggets with actual chicken!”

It was now Toji’s turn to scoff. “You just don’t understand the peak gourmet culinary complexities that is Burger King.”

“I would rather lick the inside of a Taco Bell bathroom toilet than eat a single chicken fry from Burger King. At least with the Taco Bell toilet there’d be remnants of edible food! It’s bottom tier, Toji. Where else in the world do you get “buffalo nuggets” for $3?! And why would you pay for that?! 10 piece chicken nuggets for $2?! What’re you, suicidal?!”

“It’s cheap and delicious!”

“It’s rat meat and smells like something threw up in a deep fryer and you fucking know it! It’s right there next to Arby’s.”

“Oh! So, now you’re dissing Arby’s?!”

“You bet your beautiful chiseled ass I’m dissing fucking Arby’s!”

“And what’s fucking wrong with Arby’s, huh?!”

“It’s rat food, Toji! It’s all rat food!”

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

“Have you ever been inside an Arby’s, Toji? Hmm? The people that eat there are either tasteless morons that think Jack in the Box is ‘too expensive’ or using the spot waiting for their Fentanyl dealer. It’s just like Burger King. You only go there because you have to, not because you want to.”

Toji leaned in, eyes dark. “You wouldn’t know good food if it came up to your doorstep with roses, wiped its feet off at the door, and fucked your throat.”

“Oh, is that right?!”

“Um! Excuse me…” a meek voice spoke up. You both whipped your heads to see your waiter trembling with a bottle of Gin and basket of cheddar biscuits in his hands. You both leaned back in your seats as he hurriedly placed drink and food on the table. “Your food will be here shortly…” Before he could dash off, you grabbed him by the sleeve.

“Hold on there, Tommy. Settle something for us, would’ja?”

“Oh, please don’t incorporate me in whatever this is–”

“Arby’s, Burger King, or McDonald’s? Which one would you eat?”

Tommy stood in silence for a few seconds before whispering a tiny scared “what?”

“The fuck you asking him for?!”

“Because unlike you, he has a job and doesn’t live off of gambling tickets and random women to buy his meals! Now Tommy, choose!”

“U-U-Ummm… well, considering I’ve gotten food poisoning from all three restaurants, I’d still choose McDonald’s any day…”

“What?!”

You smirk at Toji victoriously. “Thank you, Tommy. You just earned yourself a 80% tip.”

And with that, Tommy scurried off again.

“God! You can never just be fucking grateful for anything, huh?! You just have to whine and nag and complain about everything in that pissy little condensating tone of yours!”

“Tell me, Toji. What should I be grateful for? Hm? Sh-Should I be grateful that you put in the bare minimum for a date or that you even remember my name at all?”

“…”

“Should I be grateful that you even came back to me at all and not dead somewhere, shanked and killed in the street, like an overlooked hooker that the cops don’t give a shit about?”

Toji remained silent.

“You know what, Toji. You’re right. I should be grateful. I’ll be grateful knowing that when this dinner ends I can go back home and not have to deal with you for another 4 months. Maybe around that time you’ll find someone else to be a wallet for you.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, ending the conversation dead in the water. Again, you missed the pain in Toji’s eyes as he furrowed his eyebrows and slowly continued chewing. Not too long after, Tommy came back with your food. Staring down at the shiny, plastic-looking food before you, you grimace. The overpowering smell of the oysters churned your stomach and waned your appetite with each passing second. Pushing past your mixture of disgust and resignation, you begin to eat your food.

This dinner is the definition of ‘absolutely donkey dicks’. You couldn’t even consider the food you were eating as actual “food”. Plastic toy food from a child’s playset looks and smells more appetizing. The only thing that you can swallow without gagging is the bottle of Gin which is slowly asking for a refill. You sighed as you looked up from your plate and saw Toji slurping down oyster after oyster. You pushed the food around your plate with little enthusiasm.

Toji attempted to start a conversation multiple times, but his efforts fell flat in the suffocating silence that hung between you two.

Toji cleared his throat in an attempt to once again start a conversation causing you to look at him downcast. “So, uh, how’s the food?” he asked tentatively, his voice tinged with unfamiliar uncertainty.

You glanced up at him with a weary sigh, your disappointment written plainly across your face. “The lobster tastes like those bouncy balls you get from quarter machines drenched in garlic and butter and the steak is both ice cold and boiling lava hot.” You look back at your food. “How’s your oysters? Good?”

“Delectable. Like slurping down The God of Lust and War’s plump pearls.”

“Ugh…”

The silence stretched on between you two, the weight of your unspoken frustrations hanging heavy in the air. Toji let out a heavy sigh bringing your attention back to him.

“Look, uh… Y/N…” Toji started fidgeting. “I know this date is total shit. Worse than shit probably. Nobody likes fucking Red Lobster. Being in this place makes me want to set fire to the building trapping all these wrinkly white-haired fucks and servant dicks to burn. Agonizingly. But I would save you! And the Cheddar Bay Biscuits fuuuck that shit is amazing!”

You raised your eyebrow, but let him continue.

“You were right. I am… banned from most places. Fuck, I mean did you know that I was banned from Chili’s AND Applebee’s? Like, why the fuck would I even be in those shitholes?”

“That… probably has something to do with you setting fire to their parking lot and spray painting ‘FUCK YOUR TAXES’ on their windows respectively at multiple locations.”

“Oh yeeahh… damn. That was a great Halloween.”

“Yeah… it was interesting… watching you eat an entire 5-pound chocolate peep marshmallow and utterly lose your mind in what I can only describe as a hellish sugar rush.”

“Whatever. The point is… I… I really tried, y’know?” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “I said a lot of shit and promised a whole fucking thing, but in reality… this is all I can do… Like, legally or whatever…”

You stared at Toji in somewhat disbelief. You were witnessing something striking and shocking. Were you actually seeing Toji being… remorseful? The Toji Fushiguro?

“So… not to be all… stupid and pathetic… but… y’know… I’m…”

“You’re?”

“I’m… thmrrry…”

“You’re what?” You leaned in.

“Mm mpfrrf!”

“Toji, I can’t understand you. Get your hand away from your mouth.”

“I’m sorry!” he shouted. “There. I said it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You bit the inside of your cheek just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. “Woah, Toji…” you mutter, stunned. “I didn’t think those words were capable of forming. I always thought that if you even tried saying it you’d vomit up blood and your intestines would explode.”

“Fucking… whatever, okay! Don’t make a big deal outta it. I only said it ‘cuz I wanted to…!” He was blushing and fidgeting more. “But that’s not all.”

Toji reached into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out a small velvet black box, his expression awkward and face slightly red as he pushed it across the table to you.

"I,… uh…, got you something," he grumbled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment and avoiding meeting your eyes. “Just— don’t make a big deal over it…”

You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Your skepticism warring at the unfamiliar genuine tone shift as you opened the box. You gasped softly. Inside the box, a beautiful arctic blue shone brighter than all the dim lights in the restaurant. You looked at Toji then back at the necklace. You were honestly speechless and your heart immediately softened into soft serve ice cream.

“Happy anniversary…” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.

“Toji, this is…” you began, at a loss for words as you struggled to adjust to the sweet gesture that was foreign to Toji’s entire personality. “This is the sweetest and most beautiful thing you’ve ever done. Thank you, Toji.”

Toji softly frowned bashfully, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Good,” he stated firmly. “But, uh… just don’t wear it outside. It’s stolen.”

“Stolen?” you echoed.

“Yeah. An old buddy owed me a favor after getting rid of a few… pests for him. He said I could take anything as compensation so I took The Tears of Benzaiten. I was gonna pawn it, but then I thought of you and… shit y’know…” he trailed off, the blush growing on his face. “Then a few days later, he put a bounty on it and got all fucking weird about it. So, just… don’t wear it anywhere, got it? I like your face and I wouldn’t want a bunch of scars and bruises ruining it.”

“Toji. Are you seriously telling me that I’m holding a Japanese national treasure with a big enough bounty that I could be killed just for holding it and you are just giving it to me in a Red Lobster for our anniversary?”

Toji shrugged nonchalantly. “Y/N, you’re much more beautiful than some stupid necklace made from the tears of Goddess worth 90 billion Yen. And you know that if anyone came within 20 feet of you, I’d rip out their esophagus and crumple their pathetic human bodies into nothing.”

You sat in stunned silence trying to process all the information that was just thrown on you. You looked down at the necklace. Suddenly, you started to giggle. Then, your giggles turned to laughter. You put your head down as your laughter grew louder and louder. After a few moments and murmurs from other patrons later, you raised your head and leaned your cheek against your hand.

“Toji Fushiguro, you’re so…” You tried to find the words to describe the absurdity happening right now. “Impossible.” you remarked fondly, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I love you for it.”

Toji smirked proudly.

“But, I hate to break it to you baby… today’s not our anniversary.”

Toji's smirk immediately diminished. “What?! Yeah, it is!”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Afraid not, baby. You see… we don’t have an anniversary.”

“Yeah we do! We had our first date and everything!”

“We met at the track, went to a bar, and then had sex. Then, you disappeared for a week then you came back and we had make up sex. Other than that, you’ve been gone for about 75% of this relationship. This is technically the only date we’ve been on that didn’t end with me getting drunk and us having loud sex in the bathroom.”

“So… it’s not our anniversary?”

You shook your head again.

“FUCK!” Toji shouted, slamming his hand on the table with a loud crash and groaning into the booth.

You slightly giggled and put the necklace in your bag. You gently grabbed Toji’s hand and he flinched slightly at your sudden touch.

“If this were our anniversary, it would be the best anniversary ever.” You kissed his hand and stood up, looking down at his flushed face. “Come on.” you gestured, throwing some money with a big tip as promised on the table. “Let’s go home.”

Toji smiled and took your hand as you both left the restaurant, much to the other patrons' relief. As you both made your way back to the apartment, you had a small flicker of hope. For the future. For the relationship. For Toji.

It started out as a really shitty date, but turns out, deep down, Toji can be romantic. In his own way, of course.

When you both entered the apartment, Toji grabbed your hips and kissed you deeply. You melted into arms and moaned into the kiss. He pulled away with a smirk.

“You taste like garlic butter Gin.”

“And you taste like oysters.”

You stepped away from him and walked towards the living room.

“And where the hell are you going?” Toji asked, following close behind.

“Well, we’ve had makeup sex, angry sex, drunk sex, bathroom sex, and Scandinavian Yeti sex. But I don’t think we’ve had “anniversary” sex yet.”

Toji grinned smugly as he rushed you and threw you over his shoulder. “Fuck yeah! I’m not gonna let ya sleep tonight!” Toji roared, giving your ass a smack. You let out a gasp and laugh.

You hated this man sometimes, but you couldn’t deny the amount of love you had for him too.

This truly was the best anniversary ever.

~Omake~

“Urrreeegh…! Urg… fuck…”

“I told you not to eat those oysters, baby.” you soothed, rubbing Toji back gently.

Halfway through sexy time, Toji jumped off of you and started to feel the horrible after effects of Red Lobster oysters. You cringed as Toji continued to retch, groan, and spit all of his dinner in the toilet bowl.

“I’ll kill those bastards…! I’ll slit their throats and dance on their backs! I’ll get those– ugh! Oh god… bleerghh!”

You sigh and smile softly at his very real threats. You stepped out of the bathroom and put on some clothes.

“Where you goin’! We’re not… urgh… done yet!”

“Well, we’re gonna be here for a while, baby. I don’t know much about sorcerers, but I’m pretty sure I can recognize the symptoms of food poisoning.”

Toji groaned. “Fucking Red Lobster… making me miss out on anniversary sex…”

“I’ll be back in a few. You’re gonna need some water, Pepto Bismol, soda, crackers, and light snacks to keep down.”

“Nooo… don’t go…” he wearily waved at you to come back.

You leaned against the door frame of the bathroom, smiling gently at the sick man. “Do you want anything? I can get you some scratch off tickets. Dragon Stars Lotto. Those are your favorite, right?”

Toji smiled weakly. “You’re an angel, baby.”

You kissed the back of Toji's neck and smiled as he shuddered against your lips.

“When you get back, I’m gonna fuck the memories of anyone else outta you.”

You laughed, grabbed your bag, and left the apartment. Smiling and hopeful for what’s to come next.

—

a/n: yo. sorry i've been gone for so long. been trying to find a new job and then suddenly decided to learn blender animation for some reason. (if anyone can give me tips it would be much appreciated) so i started working on this in February for like a valentine's thing then looked up and saw that is April so... happy april fool's! or whatever... enjoy a not so serious toji fic. more to come soon.

[yeojatoru]

SNEAK PEEK

hey.. are you guys up for some satosugu angst pls say yes i would cry if nobody likes this I WILL TRY TO FINISH IT I SWEAR!! pls... and try reading some of my posts on my blogs im trying to get back to writing fanfics and there would be series based on songs and idk how to write fluff i will try love u xx thx for reading this far

[obscuremantisman]

lerolerolero, giving out crumbs of what happened in one of the stuff i'm writing. gn cursed darling x their soon to be yandere lover ( I haven't written everything yet, yippe, yippe)

⪧ I appreciate criticism, ideas, and your opinions. ⪦

"So, you want to explore this far-away, super-dangerous cave that is said to be full of uncovered secrets?" Your lover asked amusedly, an eyebrow raised as they stared at the location marked on an old map you had in hand. Nodding in confirmation, you waited for their opinion on the matter.

"Of course, we can go, my love. I'll go pack my things right now if you want." They told you happily with a kiss on the cheek, smiling at your bashful reaction. You let go of the map, watching as your lover took a closer look at it.

"We should probably settle inside this one village. It seems like there will be a lot to do around it." They said while in thought, taping the area with a finger. A hum left your mouth, coming to their side and sliding an arm around their waist, catching their attention. "I'll take a bath in a few minutes. could you call me when dinner is ready?" You asked, nuzzling your face to your lover's hair slightly, thinking of what things you would find in your new adventure. ".. of course, I can, dear." They replied with a chuckle, their hand coming over yours, giving it a squeeze.

Those were the last peaceful moments you two had together in each other's embrace before disgrace, the day you reached that village and entered the cave. A small kiss to the lips was delivered, words sweet as candy leaving each mouth before the farewell. You, oh so confident of the outcome you'd get, stepped deep into the forest, not looking back.

"m/n?!" They shouted upon seeing you at the front door, frozen in place as they tried to make sense of what was in front of their eyes, the love of their life, covered in blood, strange glowing cracks all over their skin, and a gigantic hole bored in the middle of their chest. Your body was resting in the doorframe as you turned to look up at them. Your dulled eyes met with horrified ones, and blood fell from your mouth as you whispered. "I'm home, swe.. sweetheart.." Your legs didn't have the strength as you tried to walk, making you fall forward. "m/n!" Your lover cried out, running up to you just in time to catch your body before it hit the floor, holding you close with trembling hands.

the next part will be where the curse and where the crazy yandere behavior starts (there will be also fluff 'n silly stuff as an appetizer) guys, I fucked something up and wasn't able to post the next part on the due date I said- it's prob coming out on like 2 days

[ciaossu-imagines]

Day 1, promot 1, nr 3 with me boy Dera

Honestly i know its supposed to be smutty and all but the thought of dera coming home to his s/o and he is drenched in blood and they help him shower bc he is just focking exhausted is a form of intimacy and sexual that doesnt even need anything more tbh.

The inherent eroticism of washing blood off of someone.

I totally agree with you and it’s such a compelling and evocative prompt this way! Thank you so much for sending this in and I hope you’ll enjoy the drabble. Where it never actually gets into smut territory, instead going heavily instead into angst territory, I’m going to leave this without a cut.

3) our muses take a shower together to wash blood off each other

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room echoed a little within the stillness of the room. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…boing! It announced the hour loudly, startling you out of your mostly asleep state you’d been in, curled up on the couch with a well-loved and oft-read paperback in your hand that now fell onto the floor. Cursing under your breath, a wry smile on your face at the thought of how silly you must have seemed, almost jumping out of your skin over a couple of loud sounds, you readjusted yourself on the couch, leaning down to pick up the book. You turned your face to look at the clock as you tossed the book onto the coffee table, your lips pursing a little as you noticed the time. Midnight already? Gokudera was a lot later than he thought he would be. When he’d messaged you earlier, he’d figured he’d be home by ten, ten-thirty at the latest.

Looking around, you spotted your phone where you must have tossed it earlier, over on the television stand. With a sigh at the thought of having to stand, you stretched out your body, hearing a couple creaks and pops from the way it had stiffened in the awkward position you’d dozed off in, and reluctantly got to your feet, heading over to grab your phone. Maybe you’d missed a text, caught up in reading or nodded off. While Hayato was a sucky texter, it was unlike him to not send at least a word or two to let you know he’d be late or was held up overnight, especially since you’d explained to him countless times that it made you feel a lot safer and less worried about him. Clicking over to his messages, you found nothing, just the last text telling you when he expected to be back. Your brow furrowed as you stared at the screen. Your fingers itched to switch over to the call screen, to hear his voice and know he was okay. Yet you kept hesitating, unable to press the button.

When you and Hayato had first gotten together, you’d fallen hard and fast. You’d wanted to be texting him all throughout the day. You’d wanted to spend as much time together as possible, had wanted the long phone calls. To you, it had only been natural, but to Gokudera, it had been stifling – you were clingy, too much, and the arguments had been brutal. Once or twice in the early days, the two of you had broken up, only to find yourselves back together. The arguments had continued, going on and on. While you’d worked on not being so clingy, Hayato had a bad habit of getting engrossed in something, some thing he was researching, working on, learning about, or in business with the Family, and completely losing track of time. He’d skip out on dates, only to apologize profusely afterwards when he realized, or he’d just not show up at night, staying all night in his office. Your anxieties had gotten the better of you and you’d started to obsess over the possibilities that he was getting into someone else, not something else. The arguments had started up in earnest again…through it all though, the two of you had always stayed together. You’d learned to trust him a bit more, to be more secure in both yourself and your relationship with him. He’d started being more mindful about things like texting you, about giving you the heads up when he’d be home, to be more considerate of you.

But you were both human. You slipped occasionally, and so did he. You figured this just must be one of those times. Maybe he’d gone to grab a late-night meal with one of the others, maybe he’d gotten caught up in paperwork or in reading one of his many collection of textbooks. Maybe he’d been training and gotten so into the groove of it all that he hadn’t realized it was now creeping into the early morning. There were so many possibilities. Him being late didn’t necessarily have to mean anything bad.

You kept reassuring yourself of that fact as you let the screen of the phone darken, putting it back down on the television screen. You stretched out your legs, walking around the apartment. You got changed into your pyjamas, brushed your teeth, did your skincare routine. You refilled the water and food in the cat’s dishes, anything, everything to keep yourself busy. Through it all though, you just couldn’t stop yourself from looking at any clock around you, counting the minutes that ticked by, keeping an ear out for the sound of your phone’s text notifications. Once you’d exhausted everything you could think of to occupy your time, you sighed, wandering back out to the living room. You knew that, until you heard from him, you wouldn’t be able to sleep that evening. Your eyes went back to the book on the coffee table. Maybe that would be the distraction you needed…that, and some coffee.

You padded into the kitchen. Your eyes went again to the digital clock on the oven before you shook your head. No, none of that. You busied yourself with making a little snack plate before you headed to the coffee maker. Turning on the facet, you let the water run for a minute, zoning out to the sound of the running water splashing against the bottom of the sink, before you filled the coffee pot with water. You leaned against the countertop, letting your mind wander as the coffee percolated, watching it drip down and fill up the pot. You were just taking down your cup, hand reaching to grab the coffee pot when you heard the sound of a door opening. Your eyes widened and you were so eager to put your mind to rest that you were almost running out of the kitchen towards the small entryway off the living room, coffee pot still in hand.

Moments later, the coffee pot was falling from your hand, breaking against the floor. You barely felt the hot liquid against your feet because it was only there for the briefest of moments as you dashed forward. How could you not? The sight in front of you, Gokudera leaning against the door as he closed it behind him, his suit jacket falling to the floor. But all you could seem to see was the great big swatches of still damp blood soaking his white button-down red, smeared along his face, tainting his silvery locks, spotted here and there on his dark trousers. You were barely aware of how frantic your expression was, how fumbling your hands were as they touched his shoulders, his chest, his neck, trying to turn his face towards you. Your brain seemed to be almost entirely white noise, focused on that crimson colour, on his turned in posture and how Hayato’s head hung down, his eyes refusing to meet yours, almost unfocused as he stared at the floor.

His large hands came up to catch yours, almost cup them as he pushed them away from him.

“Don’t worry. None of it’s mine,” his voice seemed to wake you up a bit, to shake some of that white noise out of your head. You could feel the panic surging inside of you, threatening to drown you.  

“Don’t worry?! Are you insane? You’re covered in blood, of course I’m going to worry! What the hell is going on, Hayato?” Your voice was high-pitched, almost bordering on panicky but you couldn’t seem to help it. Your hands reached out again, touching his shoulder as you made to step closer to him, to get a better look at him. Again, he reached up, his movements gentle but firm, removing your hand and taking a step away from you, keeping his distance from you.

“It’s fine…I’m fine. I just…wanna go to bed.”

Your panic was almost choking you. It was a palpable feeling, both seeming as if it lived inside you, a writhing, heavy creature inhabiting your skin and trying to burst free, and as if it was an actual heavy weight outside of you, dropped onto your shoulders and chest. Yet, even with all that panic, something in your mind clicked. It was in the way he was leaning into himself, his posture withdrawn, almost skittish. In the moment, in the way he moved and how he avoided you, it was like Hayato was suddenly some wounded, scared animal. It was in how he wouldn’t raise his head, as if it suddenly weighed a ton, in how he wouldn’t look at you. In the few glances you’d managed, his normally emotion-filled eyes were glossy, almost dead, his face seeming to belong to someone far older than him. It was in his voice, in that dreadful calm, monotonous, robotic tone. It was all those things that made it so that, despite all your own panic, all your own fear and worry, you were able to stuff all those things down for the moment. You knew you’d have to feel later on, you’d have to properly deal with everything at later, but for now – for now, you had to take care of Hayato, you had to get him back somewhat to his normal.

“No. There’s no way in hell you’re getting into our bed looking like that.”

“I’ll take off the clothes, don’t worry,” Hayato said, walking slowly away from you. Your feet were quick and within a couple of large steps, you’d caught up to him, grabbing him by the arm and not allowing him to shake you off this time.

“Even without the clothes, you’re not getting into the bed like that. You need a shower, come on. I’ll take one with you and after that, I can spot treat your clothes, get them into the washer before we go to sleep.”

“Don’t waste your time. Just throw them out…” Gokudera’s voice seemed to falter then, his tongue tripping over ‘uhh’s’ and ‘hmm’s’ as if he was processing a difficult thought. “Actually, just burn them.”

Hayato was always one to argue with you, to bicker and throw comments about you bossing him around while still going along with whatever was happening. It could be tiring at times, but mostly it was, in its own way, charming and very comforting and comfortable for you. His complete lack of protest at your words, the way he just let you grab his hand, leading him to the bathroom, combined with his words was making your mind race, going through all the horrific possibilities. Just what had he been through tonight?

Entering the bathroom, you let go of his hand, turning to face him. Despite all your efforts, you still couldn’t make him meet your eyes. With a sigh, you lowered your own gaze, focusing on his shirt. Your fingers reached up, starting to slip buttons through fabric. The job was harder than you’d thought, the half-dried blood making the fabric crunchy, making the buttons not want to slip through as they should and you struggled a little. Eventually, you’d finally gotten most of them undone. As you pushed the fabric off his body, checking for any evidence of wounds that he might have been hiding from you and feeling relieved at the lack of any, you hurt as you noticed how his body almost recoiled away from your touch, his muscles and flesh flinching away from even the slightest trail of your fingernails. You didn’t let that stop you though, moving on to unbuckle his belt (another arduous task, given his love of big, flashy belt buckles that were never easy to undo) and strip off his pants. While normally you’d be staring at his naked body, admiring it, all your brain could focus on was even the barest hint of a bruise or a scratch.

Even as he seemed to be resistant to your touch, Gokudera never once stopped you. Instead, he just stood there, like a doll, as you’d undressed him. The silence in the room was almost deafening and you welcomed the sound of running water as you moved away from him, turning on the shower and getting the water to just the right temperature. You stripped yourself quickly, not making any sort of production out of it.

“Come on, in you get,” you said, keeping your tone low, quiet and gentle as you steered him into the shower with you. For a minute, you just let the water run over the two of you, making sure he was largely centered under the showerhead. You watched as the water running off him turned red, the floor of the shower almost artistic in the swirls and whirls of red mixed in with the clear water before it went down the drain. It was a little hypnotizing, but you pulled your eyes away, feeling morbid and wrong for your brief thought.

Gokudera followed your soft orders, meeting you halfway to allow you to slick some of your favourite, lavender scented shampoo onto his hair, lathering it up. Your fingers massaged his scalp, rubbing little circles, never applying too much force, but feeling better at how he didn’t flinch so much away from that as you rinsed his hair. Even better than that feeling was seeing his hair, gray with wetness, completely back to normal, without any indication that it had ever been bloodied that night.

Your hands went next to grab a loofah hanging on a hook in the shower. Lathering it up with his body wash, you started your work. You scrubbed every inch of his body, from his face all the way down to his toes. You lifted his arms for him, leaned your head against his back as you scrubbed his sides and torso. You noticed, as you did so, that Gokudera’s eyes were now shut tightly, squinched down hard, and his chest was rising and falling quicker than it normally did. As you rinsed him under the water, you started leaving kisses – along his shoulder blades, down his arms, on his fingers, down the length of his back. You just needed him to know that you were there, that he was okay and safe here with you.

It took you by surprise, as you had turned your back on him to hang the loofah back up, to feel a pair of strong arms suddenly encircling your waist, squeezing you so tight, pressing you back against him. You could feel his forehead resting against the top of your head, could feel his hot breath against your damp neck. You allowed him to just stay like that for god knew how long. His breathing was labored, halting, and his voice when it came out was shaky. You felt the harsh inhale, the hard burst of exhale ghosting across your skin as his words came.

“She’s dead….Bianchi…my sister is dead.”

[somemydayy]

this is what losing someone feels like

warning: implied death of loved one, significant other loss, angst may occur.

A loud creaking sound of the door alerted the bartender. They were preparing for a bombardment of drunkards on their last stop. Youths who came for a drink after clubbing, or the occasional regular surge of office workers after a long day on the job. He expected the same from few to far between regulars who always came for a quick drink or two, sometimes more as they drowned down their worries with liquid courage.

But what they least expected was to see, you, and the sight of you was quite horrifying, to be completely honest. Mangled, knotted and twisted hair in what could be described as a rat's nest sat atop your head. Your hair looked messy, and that was putting it nicely. Disheveled, battered jeans that seemed to have way too many rips for comfort, that plain white t-shirt you oddly like to wear on the weekends, and those distinctive recognizable dreadful squeaky shoes he could hear from a mile away. Chapped lips, bloody, and bruised finger nails from that horrific habit of biting your nails whenever your stressed out, or feeling overwhelmed with your thoughts and emotions. He feared you were going to rip out your hair with the way you were gripping onto the roots of your scalp. Your eyes were bloodshot and held a distinctive glassy look to them that he recognized instantly; it was apparent to anyone that looked at you that you had been crying. From the way your mascara was smudged at the corner of your eyes, or the way your nose seemed to remind him of a cherry tomato.

He found himself focusing on your face. He noticed the way your makeup seemed slightly off, and more dewy then usual, or maybe it was the tear streaks dripped all the way down the apple of your cheeks. Oddly enough he thought you looked hypnotizing, similar to that of the heavy rain that was currently thrashing against the windowsill in a recurring stream. Was it the rain, or was it your tears, he didn’t really have the heart to ask.

“Bad day?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He didn’t ask you much about why you were doing out so late, it was a apparent to anyone you looked like you needed a break from whatever you found yourself enstrangled in recently.

“I can tell.” He didn’t mean to let it slip past his lips, but his mouth had a mind of its own. And he felt himself shuttering at the thought of being so thoughtless, especially towards you in your current state.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean, didn’t mean to intrude on your personal life. I was just worried about you is all.” He stammered out a apology, he was expecting a harsh response, maybe a demand for compensation, a scoff even, but he was taken aback by your reaction or lack therefore of one.

“It’s okay.” her lips were pressed together in a gentle smile as the teardrops fell down her flushed cheeks.

“Burbon?”

There was something about the taste of burbon that reminded me of the way he used to kiss me —gently, but with a bite to it.

“Your favorite, right?” he asks gently, in contrast to her rough swing of the glass against her hand. He stared as she gulped down the drink in one fell swoop.

She drank down her grief like it was the finest wine. Like it was the purest blood. After a while, she can never tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“Umm, no. It wasn’t my favorite, but I grew to like the taste.”

Actually burbon was never really her favorite, she only drank it because it was his.

You reply it over, and over like a broken record stuck on repeat. The memory overflows, and spills out into a harsh wave of regret, heartache and despair. The memories are so vivid, it’s so beautiful and painstakingly solemn at the same time.

“Bourbon is a type of whiskey, much the way that Champagne is a type of wine. So all bourbon is whiskey, but not all whiskey is bourbon.”

“I don’t get it.”

“All Bourbon is whiskey but not all whiskey is a bourbon.”

“Still don’t get it.”

“I hear they just opened up a new bar on main street, I’ll take you to there, next time. Maybe try some burbon while we’re at it.”

“I don’t think trying burbon is gonna help me understand the complexity of how it’s brewed or if it’s whiskey or not.”

“We’ll see, but I can’t wait for you to try it. I promise you’re gonna love it!”

The memories of him, you try to keep them ingrained within your mind, forever. From the way he used to grin after telling you a joke, the way his laughter almost always seemed contagious to a fault, the way his smile lines became more prominent whenever he grinned at you, the way his demeanor carried a sense of security, and love, the feeling of pure joy would fill his voice whenever he talked about his dreams, and aspirations for the future. The future that was painstakingly cut too short. The memories are still so vivid, and painful to recall, but they’re the only ones your left with now.

The air was warmer, and the sun shined brighter, and his voice sounded more prominent back, then. Now your faced with the painstaking truth of forgetting the way he used to call out your name, and it scares you. It feels like a nightmare, the terrifying feeling of being faced with never seeing the person you love the most in the world ever, again.

“You only drink hard liquor? Or are you going hard on me, huh?”

“Depends, I don’t think bartenders are supposed to drink with the customers.”

“We can make exceptions, I am the owner after all.” he says with a grin.

And he had no other words to describe what he felt, but heartbreak.

You’re never going to forget him. You’re always going to love the color of his eyes, and you’re going to search for someone with the same contagious laugh. You’re never going to fully let go of him. You’re going to have those nights when all the regret and pain comes rushing back. You’re going to miss him with all your heart, but you’re going to be okay.

Because that’s what living on means for you, and for him. He’ll always be in your heart, living on through you.

And now they’re only a memory. A fragment of his soul remains with yours. But how could you possibly live with this pain. This heartbreaking truth, of never getting the opportunity of telling them you love them ever again, never being able to feel the warmth of their embrace, the touch of their caress, hearing the ring of they’re voice greet you with such enthusiasm, nor will you ever be able to give them the love they gave you. But you must live on.

Maybe it’s okay to miss them when you’re trying to move on. Maybe it’s okay to cry on days like this and feel lost until dawn. Maybe it’s okay to constantly ask yourself why? Why did it have to end like this when all those times I thought it would end like in the movies, I’ve seen before.

Happy ending? But where’s mine, you continually ask yourself tearful, woefully.

Maybe it’s okay to hurt, somedays. Maybe it’s okay to heal, somedays. Maybe it’s okay to remember, and miss the person that gave you’re life a color. After all, they are the red stitch that was once woven into the fabric of your very soul.

But today, you’ll take one step at a time. Recalling memories, if that helps. Just today, you tell yourself solemnly.

You remember you were just a little less broken back then, and sometimes you wish that you could just glue the shattered pieces back together again, but how do you do that when someone took a piece of your heart with them when then left.

They say that grief is just love with nowhere to go.

And maybe you never knew what that truly meant, until you lost him; but that was then. Now you didn’t need to look back only forward. For something that was lost, because if it was meant to be, it would have been. But that’s just what people say to make themselves feel better.

But today, you’ll just take it easy.

He is many things, but one thing he couldn’t be was yours. For your heart belonged, yearned, and loved another.

“His voice. Please don’t let me forget his voice.” you often told yourself in moments of desperation, like a prayer you mumbled this to yourself on days such as this.

Lips up to a glass of liquid courage, and your heart set ablaze. Even as you downed cup after cup, and the alcohol began to burn at your throat you wondered out loud.

“I never understood why someone would drown their sorrows in alcohol, until now.” she said solemnly.

The only source of light came from the shallow lights bouncing off the corners of the room. The atmosphere was rigid. He stilled his sights upon you, who was seated infront of him. The words that were so heavily engraved in his mind overflow with curiosity and suspense slipped off of his lips, out onto the world.

“It’s okay for you to cry, the sky does it too.” he says almost apologetically, as he points to the nearby window being thrashing against by the falling rain.

Some people cry with tears, others with thoughts.

“I know.” you reply softly, with a hint of sorrow stuck within your throat as the tears begin to pour down your cheeks.

“I know.”

© Somemydayy 2024 | Please do not copy or alter this writing on Tumblr or any other platform.

[ladybyakuya]

| INTO MY KALIEDISCOPES ( part three ) + SUGISHITA KYOTARO !

+cw. — fem!reader, fluff, comfort, domesticity,pinning.

+wc. — 1k 

+syn.—  Sugishita Kyotaro was always the first target for every impromptu plan that Umemiya made while you were Kotoha's. Naturally, when they both made plans you and Sugishita had to face each other again.

+notes. — this is for the flufftober ‘fond moments’ collab event for prompt: date night hosted by @spookuna. m\dni cuz me iz eighteen plus blog. this is part of a mini drabble series that can be read as stand alone. |  redirect to blog navigation. 

The shop that was suggested by both Haji-kun and Koto-chan is the same shop that popped up in Google Maps when you searched for “grocery stores near me.” but now that you are finally here you can tell why it was so hard to locate the shop, even for google. The town guide, Sugishita, who is accompanying you was not much of a help. Besides, talking with him is still a boat you had yet to set foot on let alone sail on it. Never in the worst nightmares you had expected to run into him, again, after that embarrassing date night. 

The shop is almost empty except for the staff at the cash counter who is practically dozing off. It is already quite late at night so you do not see a reason to blame him especially because Makochi is a forlorn town. No shop is ever too crowded to come back home empty-handed. Haji-kun wanted to have a barbeque night; naturally, Hiragi was busy helping him, more like cleaning the mess he left behind after he was done with something, as always. Kotoha, Sakura, Nirei, and Suo are helping with the setup while Kaji and Tsubaki have gone to invite others, especially the members of Shishitoren and the people at show pub Ougi bar. As a result of these patiently concocted coincidences You and Sugishita were the only two people left with nothing to do but one of the most important responsibilities: “grocery shopping.”

A heavy sigh escapes from your chest as you lay your eyes on the entire display of products while standing in front of the fridge. Vibrant in color compared to the other parts of this dull silent shop, it piqued your interest first even though it is the utmost corner. The ground shelf of the fridge, which extends from one end of the shop to the nook of the staircase which would possibly lead to the second floor, is filled with dairy products. The shelf above it is filled with frozen foods and various types of treats with different tastes like salty, spicy, sweets, and alcoholic; the last, the uppermost shelf is filled with a wide variety of chocolates. Your concern is the middle section but the level above it is the most tempting. You pick a bunch of packets from the frozen foods section and look by your right side. 

Oh god! Where did this boy run off to now? He was following you like a stray puppy just a while ago. With the shopping cart in between the two of you, it felt like he was light years apart every time you turned back to keep anything inside it. You look around unable to spot him, slowly sinking into a rabbit hole of distraught since without him you would be lost in Makochi. You would not be able to go back without him. Relying on the phone? That’s pretty useless here. The network is bad besides you do not have anyone’s number except Kotoha and even if you did make a call she would be busy in the preparations of barbeque mostly probably unable to take the call . . . Oh God! Why did Haji-kun have to send you in the middle of nowhere. . . ?

A metallic screech sucks you out of your puddle of thoughts. You look in the direction of the source and a nonchalant Sugishita appears emerging from another section of the rack that has a lot of mangas, magazines, and books, by standing on the bar of the shopping cart while hunching his upper body to balance his weight, skidding it till he comes to a halt in front of you. His head turns up towards you, eyes blinking: one, twice, thrice before he straightens himself up to stand properly. He stands looking at the fridge, the cart in between you two as you inspect him for a few seconds. He is not hunching like he usually does around Umme! The inner flesh of your bottom lip faces a rough distortion against your teeth while you empty your hands into the cart. It already had drinks, soda cans, and different types of sauces neatly kept. It felt illegal to dump those packets messily into that apple pie setup but when there was a slow appearance of a visible crease along his eyebrows the pit guilt was now filled with surprise and  . . . joy perhaps.

“Alright fine,” You chime with an ear-to-ear smile jocking down to keep those packets of frozen foods in a well-ordered manner. The dull buzz of the air conditioner, the sharp ‘clicks’ when the rotating fans switch its direction, the crinkle of plastic packets inside the cart as you organize it, the low even syncing breaths of you two; then a gruff unfiltered voice turns up in a weak whisper, “This almost feels like a date night, wouldn’t you agree? ” and then, his hand on yours.  Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. You knew this was coming. You were . . . supposed to be prepared for this. It was you who avoided him at first. It was you who created an awkward situation like this. The fact that you saw him under those dim yellow lights in such an intimate manner does not help either. Those moments so unadulterated keep coming back to you in situations like this in flashes. It makes you close your eyes, and blink rashly to be back in all sorts of coherence. 

You look up slowly. His face is close, too close not to do anything—kiss or touch— your forehead against his, rub your cheeks against his. By now your fingers have found a home in between his fingers. He shoves his right hand into his pocket pulling out a half-eaten chocolate out of it and keeping it inside the cart. You feel a strong urge to smile but instead, wet your bottom lip rubbing the back of his palm with your lonely thumb that was not interlaced with his yet.

“Would you like to start over?”

[zootopiathingz]

I might've said this before, but if Zootopia 2 doesn't have a part where Nick or Judy gets seriously hurt and gets sent to the hospital, and the other sits by their hospital bed day and night, desperately hoping that they'll be alright, I'm going to RIOT

There must be ANGST

No because the amount of fics I’ve read/written involving this exact scenario is astounding, and if something even remotely similar to this doesn’t happen I’m going to be disappointed. All the potential is RIGHT THERE!!

[luvmake]

CONVO PROMPT.

“Forget about her.”

“She made this dead heart beat; I can’t simply forget the feeling of being alive again.”

[unforgivenn]

Failed escape/rescue attempts

Y'know, there's just something about failed rescue attempts or escape plans gone horribly wrong that just gets to me. It's not just the adrenaline rush of the chase or the thrill of the near miss, although those are definitely part of it. Being someone who's definitely more into psychological and trauma whump, It's the raw emotions, the sheer horror etched on the face of whumpee, when they realize that everything they hoped for is crumbling right before their eyes.

Picture this: you've got this poor soul, trapped in the clutches of their tormentor, clinging to the faint hope that someone out there cares enough to save them. Maybe they've been planning their escape for weeks, maybe even months or years mapping out every detail, every possible scenario. They've decided how to deal with the worst-case scenario and if they do get caught. They've played it out in their mind a thousand times, imagining the moment when they finally break free, when they taste sweet freedom once again. They keep dreaming about it, about how they'll greet and probably cry when they see their family. They think about what all things they'll do when they're free. They haven't been to a karaoke for a very long time.

But then, just when it seems like everything's falling into place, when they're on the verge of breaking out, it all goes to hell in a handbasket. Maybe the rescuers get ambushed, taken out brutally and mercilessly right in front of them. You can see the horror in whumpee's eyes when they see blood gushing out and covering their loved ones who decided to rescue them.

Whumpee screaming and shouting out their rescuer's names trying to get them up. Anything for them not to close their eyes. Whumpee's crying, their sobbing as whumper holds them back by their arms, not letting them run to their loved ones. They don't fucking care about what'll whumper do to them for showing this attitude. Right now, their world was just revolving around the near dead bodies on the ground. Maybe they even faint from the shock.

You can practically see the hope draining from their eyes, replaced by a bone-deep despair as they realize that their chance at freedom has slipped through their fingers. They feel so guilty. It's all their fault. All of it just like whumper said. If they weren't alive then the others would've still been alive. It's all their fucking fault. They feel guilty for even thinking of freedom because there's no way they deserve even a minute of it. The moment from the night keeps playing over in their mind making them break down more than just once.

Or maybe it's even worse. Maybe they're just seconds away from freedom, fingertips brushing against the promise of a new life, when it's all snatched away from them in an instant. It's like a gut punch, that moment when they realize that their fate is sealed, that they'll never escape the clutches of their tormentor.

And then there's the aftermath. The punishment for daring to dream of a life beyond their suffering. Maybe the whumper takes out their frustrations on the one they were trying to save, doling out punishment with a cruel and merciless hand. Maybe they're told, in no uncertain terms, that no one is coming for them, that they are utterly and completely alone in their misery.