#anyway hey guys do you like this image? cause i like it.

[fujouppy]

[gender-trash]

I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant

by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat

so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.

meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)

with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this

(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)

i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).

even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.

oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!

or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.

also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.

tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?

also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!

[goldfades]

STOLEN MOMENTS IN PARKING LOTS──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request!

─ summary | rafe tries to provoke jealousy by showing public affection for sofia, but as tensions rise, he confronts you and reveals his feelings.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x ex!fem!reader

─ warnings | NSFW!! (with plot) under the cut!! p in v, praise, pretty soft, nothing too cray but it's in the backseat of his car soooo. some angst in the beginning, rafe tries to fight someone (when does he not?), mention of drinking, ummm maybe cheating cause i lowk forgot about sofia cause bro does break up with her... but wtv! it's for the plot!

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! i actually love rafe more than i do life itself and... i wanna feed yall so PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME ANYTHING. anyways... sorry i just had to get that out there!!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The air feels thick around you as you weave through the crowded beach, trying to keep your gaze anywhere but on Rafe. His laugh, louder than it needs to be, cuts through the noise of the party, and you can’t help but notice Sofia wrapped around him.

She leans into his touch, her smile bright as his hands roam casually over her waist, like he used to do with you. You catch a glimpse of them, Rafe pulling her closer, his lips moving to hers in a display meant for everyone, but especially for you. You look away, forcing yourself to focus on the bonfire, the drinks, anything. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull. It’s like he’s everywhere at once, the weight of his stare pressing into you even though his attention should be elsewhere.

And maybe it is—his lips are on her—but his eyes, whenever you risk a glance, are always searching for you.

You tighten your grip around your drink, jaw clenched against the swirl of emotions building in your chest. Each stolen glance at Rafe pulls at something deep inside you, but you refuse to let it show. The heat of the bonfire warms your skin, the crackling flames a welcome distraction as you will yourself to block out the image of him with her.

The party hums around you, but all you can hear is his laughter—so familiar, yet distant, like he’s a world away, even though he’s right there.

But before the thoughts can spiral further, someone steps into your line of sight, blocking the view you’ve been pretending not to care about. You blink up, surprised to see a guy you vaguely recognize from around town, his easy smile and tousled brown hair a stark contrast to the tension thrumming inside you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth, the kind that carries well over the music. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You offer him a half-smile, more out of politeness than genuine interest, but something in you shifts—an instinct, maybe, to distract yourself, to prove to yourself that you’re fine. If Rafe can move, so can you. So, you shrug, meeting his gaze for longer than you have with anyone all night.

“Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice light despite the ache still gnawing at the back of your mind.

He steps closer, leaning casually on the railing next to you. “Name’s Tyler. You’ve been to these parties before, right?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, your eyes drifting briefly toward where Rafe stands before snapping back to Tyler. He follows your gaze but doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, once or twice,” you say, playing along.

Tyler’s grin widens, sensing an opening. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of the scene? You don’t seem like the type to be into the chaos.”

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. “Not usually,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But it’s better than staying home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, his eyes roaming over your face, lingering a second longer than necessary. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

There’s a warmth in his words, a casual flirtation that makes it easy to forget the lingering tension in your chest. You tilt your head, giving him a look you haven’t given anyone in a while—playful, even if only for the moment. “And why’s that?”

His smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “Because I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

You feel a small spark of satisfaction flare inside, the kind that comes from knowing you’re being noticed, admired, even if it’s fleeting. You toy with the edge of your cup, glancing up at him beneath your lashes. “Well, aren’t you charming.”

Tyler laughs, a low, easy sound that feels like a balm against the tension in your mind. “Just telling the truth,” he says, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the fire. “Want to grab a seat by the bonfire? I’d hate for you to be stuck standing here all night.”

You hesitate for a second, glancing toward the beach where Rafe and Sofia are still tangled in each other. But the sight no longer stings as much—it’s dulled, replaced by a sudden urge to push back, to be seen with someone else, just as he’s parading her around. It’s petty, you know that. But right now, you don’t care.

“Sure,” you say, offering Tyler a real smile this time, one that lights up your eyes. “Why not?”

As the two of you make your way to the fire, you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning hotter than the flames, but you don’t look back. Not yet. You settle onto one of the logs beside Tyler, letting his easy conversation and light touches distract you, pretending for a moment that you don’t feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze following your every move.

A few hours (and drinks) later, you find yourself leaning against Tyler’s car, his hands on your waist, lips trailing down your neck as the distant sounds of the party fade into the background. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out here, away from the noise, away from him. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, making it easy to forget about the tension that had been gnawing at you all night.

Tyler’s mouth finds yours, and you lean into it, closing the gap between you. His kiss is heated but unhurried, his touch light on your skin, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself slip into the moment. The back of your mind, the part that’s always aware of Rafe, quiets—just for now. Tyler’s hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace soft patterns over your waist.

For a few blissful seconds, you don’t think about Rafe at all. It’s just you, Tyler, and the cool night air pressing in around you. Tyler’s touch is comforting, a distraction, a way to escape the complicated mess of emotions Rafe always drags you into. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of what used to be.

Tyler breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours as he grins. “You sure know how to make a guy’s night, sweetheart,” he teases, his voice low and breathy, pulling you in even further.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I, really?” You reply, matching his grin, feeling the haze of everything slip further away.

Tyler’s hands tighten around your waist, his mouth once again capturing yours as you press against the cool metal of the car. His kisses are eager now, more insistent, and you match his energy, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. The taste of alcohol lingers between you, the sound of your breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves and faint music from the party you left behind.

You close your eyes, momentarily letting go of everything—of Rafe, of the tangled mess he left behind in your head. Tyler’s lips move against yours, and for just a second, you feel light. Free.

But then, everything shifts.

The tension in the air thickens in an instant, and you sense it before you even open your eyes. A sudden presence, looming and charged, like a storm about to break. When you finally pull back from Tyler and glance up, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his expression dark—dangerously dark. His eyes lock onto yours first, blazing with an anger so intense it makes your stomach flip. Then his gaze flicks to Tyler, and you can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe’s voice is low, almost a growl, but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

Tyler, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into, straightens up, his arm still loosely around your waist. “Relax, man,” he says, trying to sound casual, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “We were just—”

Rafe doesn’t let him finish. He takes a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits, his eyes still fixed on you. But then his gaze cuts back to Tyler, and something dangerous flashes there. “But if you don’t get your hands off her right now, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Tyler scoffs, dropping his arm but not backing down. “What’s your deal, Cameron? She’s not your girl anymore.”

Those words are like a lit match thrown into a gasoline fire.

In an instant, Rafe’s on him, shoving Tyler hard against the side of the car. “What did you just say?” Rafe’s voice is low and menacing, his face inches from Tyler’s. His fists are white-knuckled, trembling with the need to unleash the anger bottled up inside him. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?”

Tyler stumbles, but he manages to push back, his hands coming up defensively. “Chill, man! It’s not that serious!”

But it is. For Rafe, it’s everything.

You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the wild, desperate look in his eyes as they flicker between you and Tyler. He’s spiraling, and you know this side of him all too well—the part that lashes out, that destroys when he feels like he’s losing control.

“Rafe, stop,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended, cutting through the haze of tension. You step forward, placing yourself between him and Tyler, your hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. His muscles are taut beneath your touch, coiled and ready to explode. “This isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Rafe doesn’t move. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours, searching, desperate for something he can’t find. He looks down at your hand on his chest, and for a second, you think he might back down.

But then he shakes his head, his voice tight with frustration. “What’s your fucking problem?” he snaps, his words aimed at you now. “Do you not miss me? Is this how you move on?”

You flinch, taken aback by the raw vulnerability buried beneath his anger. His words hit harder than any shove, cutting through the defenses you’ve been trying to build all night. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat.

Rafe’s hands grip your arms suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching, the anger faltering for a split second as something else flickers there—something almost like hurt. “Tell me,” he demands, his voice quieter now, but no less desperate. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

Rafe's grip tightens for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on yours, searching for something, anything, that will ease the storm raging inside him. His question lingers between you, thick and heavy, but you can’t answer him, not here, not like this. Tyler, still lingering nearby, lets out an irritated scoff, but there’s a tremor in it. He knows better than to challenge Rafe further—everyone does.

You feel Rafe’s breath against your skin, shallow and ragged, as if he's waiting for the moment you confirm his worst fears. But instead of answering him, you take a deep breath, your hand brushing over his chest. “Come on,” you murmur, voice softer now, low enough that only he can hear. “Let’s go.”

For a brief moment, Rafe hesitates, his gaze flickering toward Tyler, like he’s still deciding whether to throw another punch. But your hand slides down, gently tugging at his arm, and his attention snaps back to you. Slowly, his grip loosens.

Tyler, sensing the shift, straightens up but keeps his distance, his bravado from earlier slipping away as he watches you lead Rafe toward the beach. “Whatever, man,” Tyler mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying the fear he's been masking. “You two deserve each other.”

You don’t even look back at him, and Rafe doesn’t either. His focus is entirely on you now, the tension between his clenched jaw and the way he follows your lead without protest. Tyler slinks off, disappearing into the crowd as if he’s suddenly remembered who he’s dealing with.

As you walk further from the party, the sounds of the bonfire and distant music grow fainter, leaving only the soft rush of the waves and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. Rafe’s fingers brush against your hand, and though the anger in him hasn’t fully burned out, his pace slows as the two of you near the shore.

The silence between you is heavy, electric. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His frustration, his desperation—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. But now, without an audience, without the pretense of Tyler or Sofia, it feels rawer, more exposed.

Rafe stops just shy of the water, his grip on you tightening again, though not out of anger this time. It’s almost as if he’s holding onto you for stability, for some anchor to stop him from drowning in whatever dark place his mind has gone. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, his voice quiet, rough around the edges, but no longer carrying the rage that had consumed him moments before. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

You feel the words clawing at the back of your throat, the urge to lash out or deflect, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you stand there, caught between the pull of the past and the mess of emotions swirling around you now.

It’s all too complicated, and yet somehow, painfully simple. You’ve never stopped caring. But Rafe… Rafe has always made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Rafe’s question lingers in the salty night air, hanging between you like a taut string waiting to snap. His eyes search your face for something—an answer, an apology, anything to make sense of the confusion brewing in his mind. But you’re not ready to give him what he wants. Not yet, at least.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore fills the silence between you, your pulse racing in time with the waves. You look away, focusing on the dark horizon, your toes sinking into the cool sand as you try to gather your thoughts. Why are you doing this? The question echoes in your mind, but it’s not as simple as Rafe seems to think.

Maybe it’s because you’re tired—tired of feeling like he’s pulling the strings, tired of the toxic push and pull of your relationship. Maybe you’re doing it because it hurts too much to care about someone who only seems to care when you’re slipping away. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that no matter how hard he tries to provoke you, to force a reaction, the person who’s really hurting is him.

You glance at him, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself really look. His eyes are still wild with anger, but there’s something else there too—something that cracks through the hard shell he’s built around himself. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breathing ragged from the tension that’s been gripping him since the moment he saw you with Tyler. His hands, though no longer tight on your arms, still linger, as if afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go entirely.

“I’m not acting like I don’t care,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended. There’s a vulnerability in the admission that makes your stomach twist, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I just… I can’t do this with you, Rafe. Not like this.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, his brows furrowing, but then he hesitates, the frustration flickering in his eyes giving way to something closer to desperation. “Then how?” His voice is quieter now, too, though it’s laced with an edge of exasperation. “Tell me how, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the ache in your chest keeps you from it. He doesn’t know what to do? The guy who’s spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, parading Sofia around like some twisted declaration of victory, now stands in front of you, unsure, vulnerable.

But this is Rafe Cameron. The boy who hides his insecurities behind anger and control. The boy who pushes you away just to pull you back in, like some sick game where neither of you ever really wins.

“You think this is all my fault?” you ask, taking a step back, breaking the physical connection between you. His hands fall away, and though his body stays rooted in place, his expression twists as if the loss of contact has left him exposed. “You think you can just act like that all night, throw Sofia in my face, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Rafe winces at your words, and for a moment, he looks away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—” He stops, gritting his teeth, clearly wrestling with what to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Right,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “Because trying to hurt me is the only way you know how to get my attention?”

He stares at you, his lips parting like he wants to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he clenches his jaw and looks down, the anger draining from his posture, leaving behind only exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, so quietly you almost don’t hear him over the waves. “I just… I didn’t know how to make you miss me. I don’t know how to do this without screwing it up.”

The confession hits you harder than you expect, a crack in the armor he’s always so careful to maintain. It’s the first time all night he’s shown you anything real, anything beyond the bluster and anger he uses to shield himself. And it leaves you speechless.

Rafe lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the sand, avoiding your gaze. “I know I’m not… good at this. At us.” His voice wavers slightly, like admitting it is a betrayal of the tough, unshakable image he’s spent his whole life building. “But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. Especially not him.”

There it is. The raw, vulnerable truth buried beneath layers of anger and bravado. The truth you’ve always known but never heard him admit out loud.

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words settle into the hollow ache in your chest. “Rafe… I can’t keep doing this. The fighting, the jealousy—it’s too much.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how exposed you feel saying it out loud. But it needs to be said.

His eyes snap back to yours, wide and frantic, as if he’s afraid you’re slipping through his fingers. “I’ll stop,” he blurts out, stepping closer, the desperation back in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t—don’t walk away.”

You bite your lip, torn between the part of you that wants to believe him and the part of you that knows it’s not that simple. He’s said things like this before, made promises in moments of weakness, only to fall back into old patterns when the anger returns. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a genuine fear that this might really be it.

“I don’t know if you can stop, Rafe,” you say quietly, the honesty of your words hanging heavy between you. “You’re always so angry… and I can’t be the one trying to fix it every time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he absorbs what you’ve said. But then, to your surprise, he nods, his expression shifting from desperation to something more resigned. “You’re right,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am angry. But not at you.”

You blink, taken aback by the admission. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that the rage he carries isn’t about you—not really. It’s always been deeper than that, rooted in things he’s never fully let you in on.

“So what then?” you ask, your tone softer now, more searching. “What are you so angry about?”

Rafe looks away again, his jaw clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back. But then he sighs, running both hands through his hair in a gesture that screams frustration. “Everything,” he mutters, his voice rough. “My family, my life… I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You watch him, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so broken. For a moment, all the frustration you’ve felt toward him melts away, replaced by the familiar ache of wanting to help him, to fix what’s been broken between you.

But you know that’s not your job. It never was.

Rafe’s confession hangs in the air, weighty and raw, his vulnerability exposed in a way that catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and frustration that has built up between you feels insignificant. The walls he keeps so tightly guarded have crumbled, and in their place, there's a boy you recognize—a boy desperate for something solid in a world that’s been spiraling out of control.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach out, brushing your fingers against his arm. His breath hitches at the contact, and slowly, his gaze finds yours again. His eyes are dark, a mix of anger, longing, and something deeper, something that’s always been there but never fully spoken between you two.

“I’m not walking away,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice as the tension between you thickens. “I’m still here, Rafe. But you need to figure out what you want… and stop trying to hurt me to get there.”

His expression softens at your words, the desperation giving way to a flicker of hope. For a moment, he just stares at you, his lips parted like he’s trying to say something, but no words come. Instead, he steps closer, his hands brushing your waist, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries between you.

“Tell me what to do,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how to fix this.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and despite everything—despite the anger, the games, the toxic cycle—you find yourself leaning into him. The truth is, you don’t have all the answers. You never have. But standing this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, you know one thing for certain—you miss him. As much as you’ve tried to push him away, you can’t deny the pull that’s always been there, the magnetic connection between you.

“You start by being honest with me,” you say quietly, your fingers finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself. “No more games, Rafe.”

He nods, swallowing hard as his hands slide up your waist, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. “I’ll be honest,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a rush of heat through your body. “I’m done with the games, baby.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry, all the frustration and longing pouring into the contact. It’s not gentle; it’s raw and unfiltered, like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely. The world around you blurs into nothingness—the sound of the waves, the distant party—it all fades away until the only thing that exists is him. His hands roam your body, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, and you melt into him, the heat between you building with every passing second.

He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips move with a kind of desperation that makes your heart race. It's overwhelming, the way he kisses you, the way he holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You feel the intensity of everything he's been holding back—the anger, the pain, the desire—and it ignites something deep within you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, but he doesn’t let you pull away for long. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. His name tumbles from your mouth in a breathless whisper, and you feel him tense against you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and hoarse as his hands slide under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Your heart stutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice taking you off guard. It’s not just the physical connection that’s pulling you back in—it’s the raw emotion behind it, the way he’s finally letting you see the side of him he’s been hiding for so long.

And then, somehow, you find yourself back in parking lot, against his car. His lips never leave yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

“Rafe…” You barely manage to get his name out as he lifts you slightly, pushing you against the side of his car, his body pressing you firmly against the cool metal. His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Your mind spins, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the way he touches you, the way he kisses you like he’s afraid this might be the last time. There's a desperation in the way he clings to you, like he's trying to make up for every moment he's hurt you, every second he's pushed you away.

Rafe’s hands grip your hips as he pulls you tighter against him, his touch searing through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way his body presses into yours is almost suffocating, but in a way that you crave, like you’ve been starved for this kind of contact for too long. His lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, a contrast that leaves you dizzy, struggling to catch your breath.

Every kiss feels like a question, as if he’s asking for more, for you to let him in completely again. And you want to. Despite all the games, all the hurt, there’s something undeniable about being with him—something that makes your heart race in ways you haven’t felt since the beginning.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as his hands slide up your back, his fingertips grazing the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt. It’s almost like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, as if this is his last chance to make things right.

His lips leave yours for just a moment, trailing down your jaw and finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver as his hot breath fans against your skin, your body reacting instinctively to his every move. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, and you feel him pause, his breath hitching at the sound.

You feel his hand reach for the door behind you, opening it before he practically threw you into the backseat. Rafe climbs on top of you, and his lips are on yours again. You moan at the contact, your head falling back into the cool leather of his backseat. God, how you missed those cushions.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding himself together. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, and you feel his desperation in every touch, in every kiss that follows. It’s not just physical—there’s a vulnerability there, a need that goes far deeper than the surface.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s truly saying. This isn’t just about the heat of the moment or the chemistry that’s always drawn you two together. It’s about him finally letting you see past the walls he’s built—past the anger, the bravado, and the façade he shows everyone else.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his lips move lower, trailing down your collarbone, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The world around you seems to blur, the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the party fading into the background until all that’s left is the two of you, tangled together in the dim glow of the night.

He leans back slightly and all you could hear in the darkness of the night was the clink of his belt, and a shiver went down your spine as you think about what's coming. You almost immediately slip out of your shorts as you slid back, giving yourself enough room to spread out before Rafe is in between your legs.

You can make out his face in the darkness, the faint moonlight casting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that have always had a way of making you feel seen—and sometimes too exposed—are locked on you, and it makes your heart (and pussy) beat faster.

“Rafe,” you breathe, your voice barely audible as his lips return to yours in a searing kiss. It’s slow this time, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands slide up your sides, taking the edge of your shirt with them, and your breath hitches as you feel the cool night air against your skin.

Then, you feel his warm tip against your thigh. Never leaving your lips, Rafe slowly leans his cock right into your sopping pussy. You let out a soft moan, the feeling of being filled up by his cock again making your head spin with pure bliss.

“Oh, shit,” he draws out as his head falls back, the feeling of your warm cunt overwhelming. “God I missed you, pretty baby.”

And it feels like time has stopped, like the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly, like this is where you’re meant to be. His hands roam over your back, your sides, exploring with a kind of urgency that makes your pulse quicken as he pushes in deeper into your pussy.

It hurts, at first until he bottoms you out. He's still for a moment as he leans his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. After he felt you tighten around him, he instantly pulled your hips before he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, as if he was warming up.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as your hands find his shoulders. Your breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as you cling to him, your body responding to his in ways that are both familiar and intoxicatingly new.

He's fucking into you at this point, his own grunts echoing in the empty car. You could feel the windows begin to fog up as his thrusts become more sharp, more meaningful. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you can’t stop yourself—you don’t want to. You’ve missed this, missed him, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

At the sound of your cries of pleasure, Rafe chuckles breathless. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”

All you could do was nod as he begins increasing the speed of his thrusts, he was rocking into you with brute force but he was still gentle, somehow. His hands reach up to find your throat, holding it as he fucks into you harder. Rafe lifts your hips a little more so that he could reach that sweet spot, and you knew it was over.

“Rafe, fuck!” You cry as your head falls back into the cushion, your mouth slightly open and your eyes rolling back in your head. You're shaking, at this point—you're not holding back whatsoever.

Anyone who was walking by his car could probably see and hear what's happening, and probably think he was murdering you. And they were right, he was absolutely obliterating your insides. But you didn't care, and neither did Rafe.

His breathing is heavy, matching the erratic rhythm of his hips, and he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. His scent—a mix of saltwater, cologne, and something distinctly him—invades your senses, grounding you in the moment, making everything else disappear.

“Oh, my god I'm gonna—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the tight knot in your stomach snaps and it feels like everything is still for a moment. You can't even hear yourself anymore, it feels like you were on a cloud as you cum around his cock.

A few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you, his own body shaking above you. His lips find yours in a sloppy and desperate kiss, his hips keeping you placed right beneath him. He doesn't pull out—no, he wouldn't even dare. He doesn't want to. Not yet, of course. You both just lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“I missed you,” he finally whispers, his voice rough and edged with something almost like pain. His fingers tighten around your waist, as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and your heart stutters at the vulnerability laced in them.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting, like a weight you didn’t know you needed. You want to say something, to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

Instead, you reach up, your fingers grazing his jawline, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—an acknowledgment of what you both know but can’t yet fully voice. His eyes close at the contact, and for a split second, the tension melts away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Then his lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different. It’s slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands trail up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer, and your body responds in kind, the need for him growing stronger with every kiss.

You lose yourself in the feeling of him—how perfect he feels when he's inside of you, the heat of his skin, the way his fingers trace patterns along your back. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in the darkness, tangled together in a way that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything else fades away. The jealousy, the anger, the hurt—it all dissolves into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, caught in a moment that you know you won’t soon forget.

You’ve been through hell with Rafe, and maybe there’s more waiting ahead, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, all you can think about is him—the way he touches you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that’s real.

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[petew21-blog]

Friends for life

This Zack, my best childhood friend. When we were kids, we were basically inspereable. We spent so much time together. We slept over each tohers houses. Even better was the fact that our moms were best frinds. So not only they spend so much time together, but so did we. But that was 6 years ago. Everything changed when my dad died. Zack was there for me, but over time we grew apart. I had to help out my mum with my two sisters and she had to get another job to get enough money for us. Zack's mom on the other hand got divorced and found a new boyfriend. Who I heard didn't really get on well with Zack.

Me and Zack talked from time to time, but it was mainly superficial. Zack was now a very well respected guy in the school. He was always into sports. But now he was a swimmer, basketball and a football player as well. I don't know where he got all that time and energy. Even if we saw each other in the classroom we just smiled or waved at each other. Maybe even this very tiny friendship was the reason why no bullies dared to touch me. Not that Zack would every bully anyone, but if he knew that the other guys bullied someone, he always stood up for that person and ended it. And the bullies even apologized sometimes. That's how respected he was.

So yeah Zack's a jock and I am a classic nerd. Or maybe not classic. I don't really have much time to play games on the computer because of my job, but when I have some spare time I read comic books. So yeah, that makes me a nerd I suppose. And I do quite well at school too. Maybe not the PE, I kinda suck at that, but I get by.

Present time

Me and several other classmates were assigned to start decorating the halls for upcoming prom. Most of my classmates were really excited for that, but not me. I didn't have anyone to go with. Not anyone I wanted to atleast. Ok, I'll say it. I am gay, which complicates things a bit. And the person I would really like to go to prom with is Zack. But that will never happen. Zack is 100% striaght and it would totally ruin his reputation in the school.

But that doesn't stop me from obssessing about him. I saw him a few times in the locker rooms which gave me a pretty consistent image of how he changed over the years. He was pretty much the same Zack I grew up with, but I bet that his junk is much bigger than I remember. Truth be told, Zack was the first (and only) person who I had any sexual experience with. I know it sounds sus, but he only wanted to experiment jerking each other off as most boys do at their younger years. Back then I was really puzzled and didn't know what to do. Now I just wish I could go back to that moment once again.

I was one of the few remaining students. The rest headed to the shops to get their dresses and suits. I told them to leave and that I would finish it by myself, cause I wasn't planning on going anyway.

I entered the gym to get a ladder, to help me set up the last few letters over the door. And there he was, on the other side of the room. Zack was lifting some weights I didn't even know how to name. He noticed me battling with the ladder nd hurried up to help me. I mean... wouldn't you crush about him too?

Zack:"Hey, man. Nobody came to help you with this? It's pretty heavy."

Me:"Hey, no. They all left to get their suits and all. So it's just me now."

Zack:"Oh, that's sad. You need help with something?"

Me:"No, it's fine. It's just final touches. But thanks"

Zack:"All right, man. But if you need, don't hesitate to ask ok?"

He smiled and went back to finish his set.

I was basically drooling, As I was climbing the ladder and trying to reach the letters, I stumbled and grabbed onto a light. I must have been shocked or something cause then I found myself on the floor. But I wasn't on the ground, I was standing. And on the ground was my body, unconcious.

I looked at my hands and they were barely visible. I tried to reach my body but it wouldn't accept my soul. Fuck, am I dying? I tried to call out for Zack but he didn't hear me. I ran to him and saw him lifting his weights. I tried to reach for him, but before I did I felt a force pulling me towards him. And as I was pulled away I felt something being ejected out of his body.

I opened my eyes, looking in front of me. But Zack was gone now. I turned around but he wasn't anywhere. As I looked down, I noticed I was now wearing bright red shorts, and on top of that a very sweaty torso, which definitely wasn't mine. I reached out my hands. Fuck, is this really happening? I searched the pockets and found a phone. In its reflection I saw Zack's face. Oh my god. Did I really just possess Zack's body? And where is he?

The responsible flow of thoughts was now interrupted by the two huge sweaty biceps now in the way where I usually didn't mind them. I flexed and oh my god, the tightness, the strength. I felt amazing.

I knew it was bad, but I just had to give it a try. What if I might never have a chance to do this ever again, I stuck out my new tongue and licked my new shoulder all the way to my biceps. Which also allowed me now to inhale the scent of my sweaty armpit. "This is so amazing!"

I then proceeded to touch my new belly full off abs. "How the hell did he get these?"

"Lot of working out and calorie deficit" a voice called out from the other side of the room, where I was before. And there was my body. Standing.

"Zack? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Would you mind telling me how this happened?"

I wanted to be completely honest, I swear, but I think that he doesn't need to know the part where my soul travelled to his body and was pulled by it.

"So, are we gonna try to reverse it the same way? Cause your body is really hurting from the fall and my body needs to be ready for a game tommorow. So I'm not really sure about that"

"I'm really sorry about that Zack. I mean, you're right that maybe it was my near deth experience that caused this, but I don't know if endangering our lives would allow to swap us back. What if the other one dies and the remaining one will have to keep on living the other ones life?"

"Yeah, you're onto something. Well, we're gonna have to figure out how to pass on as each other."

We spoke some more about how we were gonna live our lives without anyone thinking we have gone crazy.

"Ok, Zack. Just one question. How about... you know. Private stuff?"

"You mean my personal things at home or phone? Well that shouldn't be so bad I think. I don't have many secrets to tell or something, haha"

"No, I mean. Eventually we're gonna have to take a shower or go to a toilet."

"Oh, right. I haven't thought of that. Well, than my body is your body? I mean, I don't really like to think about somebody else using my body like that, but I know you're a good person and all, so I know you'll treat my body well. Maybe just... no sex? Could you do that for me please?"

"Zach, I haven't had sex yet even in my body. I mean, your body is attractive and all so, I know I could get a date in your body or smth, but that's not something I would do."

"Ok, thanks man. Just making sure. And also another thing. I..."

"What is i Zack?"

"Give me a second, it's kind off embarasing for me. I have to jerk off in the evening everyday. If I don't I sometimes have wet dreams the next morning"

"Dude, that's nothing to be ashamed of. That happens, Zack"

"Thanks. I know you mean well, but I just know my body. So I know you'll have to take care of that now or you'll have a very unpleasant morning including the washing of the clothes and bed linens."

I felt Zack dick in my new shorts getting hard just by hearing about this. Not only am I in the body of my crush, but he himself gave me permission to jerk off his dick. How crazy is that?

"Ok, Zack. If that's what needs to be done, I'll do it." I said it in a way to make it sound like I wasn't thrilled to jerk off his dick

"And in exchange I'll get to jerk off your dick. Do you have any other secrets I should know about?"

OH FUCK NO I am not telling him "Well... not really. I think."

"Good, then let's get to it. In case you won't know what to do, just text me and I'll help you"

I was approaching Zack's house. The one where I basically grew up secondary to mine. I knew where all the rooms were. What stuff was placed where. But that was before the death of my dad and before the divorce. Who knows what's different

I entered the house anticipating horrible things. And then a strange man left the restroom. "Hey, dipshit. Back from school already? Jesus fuck. The kids these days. Why don't you get a job kid" he left for the kitchen to grab himself a cold beer and left for the living room.

Now I understand why Zack spent so much time at school doing sports. He didn't want to stay at home longer than necessary.

Anyway, up to Zack's room. His room was not filthy, it was kind of clean, but at the same time it was a but disorganized. Some of his used clothes were lying on the ground. I grabbed one of his boxers and grabbed it to my face. This is my smell now. The smell of my dick. I inhaled and held it to my nose.

As I felt my dick hardening, I didn't waste no time and started undressing myself. Zack's small mirror didn't do the trick for me so I left to the bathroom.

"Ok, modern shower. That's new. Gonna have to give it a go"

I took off all my remaining clothes. I left his necklace on and then just stared at my new reflection in the mirror. How amazing is this?

I touched his jawline, his already growing beard, scratching my hand. His lips, shivering underneath my touch. His beautiful nose. His eyes, that now contained my soul and not his looked a bit different, but same too. I took my right hand and place it on my neck while my left hand was already enjoying the hairtrail blow my stomach.

"Oh Zack, I think you'd be the type to shave. Might do that for you to fully embrace this massive beast" and with that I lowered my right hand that was before resting on my vibrating throat and now started jerking my new dick.

"Just doing what I had been told. Haha"

I jerked faster. I was slightly moaning but not loud enough to cause suspicion with Zack's step dad. I was observing the tense muscles just working hard to get me into the state of pure euphoria.

I was getting close. I couldn't stop myself from moaning. I jerked so hard that the cum flew out of my dick right to the mirror in front of me. Is I stood there, smiling with my semi-hard dick in my hand I just saw the door swung open.

I quickly covered my dick and whole self with a towel, but even the partial view could give the viewer enough information. His step dad was furious

"What the hell you fucker?!? You're jerking off here while you could do some usefull job instead? I will have a very long talk with your mother when she gets here!"

What the hell just happened. Why is he so mad at Zack all the time. He's a student and a busy one at that. I don't know what this guy's problem is

I cleaned up the bathroom and got ready for the next time. Just the fact that I got the privilege to smell Zack's scent all the time and sleep in his bed. But having his body was a whole new level. I never even dreamed of this

The next day was horrible. I started the day with PE at school and let me tell you, that having a great body full of muscles is one thing. But having a weak will to actually do it is another. I was exhausted. I felt like I wouldn't be able to get up again after finishing

I saw Zack aproaching me in my body with a concerned look. I was beggining to worry what was on his mind

Zack:"Hey... umm how was your first night as me?"

Me:"Gotta say that the stepdad you got there is an another level of douchebag. I can't believe how you can live with that"

Zack:"Yeah, he is like that all the time. I don't know what mom sees in him. He's actually super nice to her, but seems to hate me just for breathing"

Me:"Yeah. I'll tell you later. There has been a bit of embarassing encounter"

Zack:"Actually I might ask you about something else first. Last night as I was in the bed I was trying to jerk off your dick, very nice by the way"

Me:"Jesus, don't make it more awkward than it is"

Zack:"Sorry. We'll I was trying to jerk off as I normally would, watching porn and stuff, but I couldn't. Then my mind wandered over to the guy on the video... I have to ask you and don't be afraid to answer. Are you gay?"

Me:"Yeah... I've been meaning to tell you for a long time. Well... since we're already saying everything to each other. I'll just admit it right now. I... I have a crush on you Zack"

Zack:"That was my another question. I have my head filled with thoughts. Very naughty thoughts including my body, so I am happy that you cleared this up and I am not just another self centered weirdo. But the question is. Would you let me suck my dick?"

Oh man

Another story from the inbox: Can you do a classic swap story between a nerd and a straight jock? I always find those to be super hot

Hey guys. Sorry for the great break. I was finishing my exams (I passed them all, yay) and now I am in a different country on an externship trying to figure shit out. But I do have some free time during the day and I get to write a bit about my drafts and the stories in your inbox. And thanks to everyone who texted me all the supportive and kind words :) really appreciate it

[lyvhie]

HEY LYVIIIEEEEE…. ATE THAT VALENTINE FIC AWPPPPP like whoever requested that needs their ass ate cause…. Anyways! Thinking now about mark being all like lovey dovey with you in public and like “aw yes babe like I love u!” And corny but when he’s with u alone he has no mercy and like treats u like a ragdoll and shit… LOVE U!

-🦋

intensely loved | mkl

boyfriend!mark x fem!reader (18+ mdni) summary: he can't control himself when it comes to you. a/n: HII, 🦋ANOOOON!!! HOW U DOING?!! thank you for requesting again, i hope you like it! LOVE YOU TOO MUAH <3333 cw: smut, unprotected sex, a bit of praise, petnames.

mark lee has forever been the epitome of boyfriend material, a fact that was solidified even further when you became his official girlfriend.

whether it was his charm, his kindness, or his thoughtfulness, mark had it all. he was the kind of guy every girl dreamed of, and the perfect partner for you. whether it was the way he made you laugh, or the way he always knew just what to say, he was the ideal boyfriend, and your love for him only deepened with every passing day.

witnessing his affectionate and clingy behavior when you were near was incredibly captivating. he would constantly hold onto your waist, keeping you close at all times, and would whisper sweet nothings in your ear that always made you laugh and feel loved.

he was fiercely attentive to your needs, always checking in and making sure you were content and comfortable. as a result of his unwavering devotion and tender care, being in his presence felt like being ensconced in a warm and loving embrace. with his attention fixed solely on you, it was clear that you were the center of his universe.

to many outsiders, your boyfriend appears as the perfect image of a devoted and adoring partner. they perceive him as sweet, loving, and exceptionally caring, as if he idolizes you to the point of metaphorically worshipping the ground you walk on.

despite his loving and affectionate nature when in public, things took a contrasting turn behind closed doors. in private moments, you occasionally found yourself yearning for the softer, gentler side of your boyfriend that you were used to when surrounded by others.

“m-mark, please-” your voice, husky from the intensity of the moment, pleaded out for him, desperate to reach his ears. yet he remained oblivious to your attempts to communicate, focused solely on the intense rhythm of his hips against yours. with each collision, you couldn't help but roll your eyes in response to the overpowering sensation, the roughness of his movements leaving you breathless.

“you f-feel so good, baby,” he whispered breathlessly into your ear, his voice rough and filled with need. with each movement, he lost himself in the exquisite sensation of being inside you, his breath catching in his chest.

he would never tire of this sweet feeling of being consumed by you, of how your warmth envelops him so completely. the sound of his name on your lips, especially when your voice grew hoarse from his fervor, sent shivers down his spine and intensified his desire for you even more.

grasping you with a tight hold, his grip was possessively firm, leaving no doubt that there would be bruises. he held your lower back tautly, seeking a deeper angle as he slammed into you with unwavering force.

he threw his head back, fully immersing himself in the intoxicating sensations of taking you without restraint. he lost count of how many times he already came and filled your pussy with his hot seed.

you shared his frenzied need, and like him, you’d lost count of the number of times you’d reached your climax, but your body was exhausted.

every time you gasped and whimpered, trying to convey that you needed a break, he refused to stop. "just once more, babe," he kept whispering over and over again, his passion unyielding as he pushed you beyond your limits, determined to give and take everything the night had to offer.

your cries filled the room as his hand gently, yet firmly glided down to the tender bundle of nerves, massaging it with a rough circular motion. his gaze focused on your face, drinking in the mixture of pain and delight that contorted your features. he continued the relentless assault on your most sensitive spot, his touch precise and adamant as he watched your expressions twist between torture and ecstasy.

his ruthless rhythm never ceased as he whispered huskily, "one more, baby." he buried himself deeply within you, hitting every spot that sent waves of bliss coursing through your writhing body, his moans mingled with yours in a chorus of passion. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a frenzied kiss, eagerly drinking in your soft gasps and protests.

his words whispered against your lips in a seductive murmur "one more, and i promise you can rest.” as he uttered those words, you felt a wave of sweet relief wash over you, a soothing reprieve from the intense sensation of pleasure.

he sensed the way your body responded, squeezing him tightly, as if clinging to the hope of respite. in response, he whispered softly, "that's it, darling, let it go for me." his voice held a tantalizing mixture of dominance and coaxing, teasing the edge of surrender as he skillfully guided you deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

the sheer intensity of the experience sent you spiraling over the edge, your body unraveling completely under him. your mouth opened in a gasp, but the energy to utter a sound eluded you, leaving you in a state of blissful silence. your body convulsed fiercely, your vision clouded by a haze of ecstasy. as you looked at mark, his small smirk told you he was fully aware of the delicious mess you had created.

he continued to push you to the brink, now seeking his own release. he buried his face against the tender skin of your neck, his hips urgently grinding against yours, his own control unraveling.

“g-gonna fill you up, babe,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his breathing labored and quick. his teeth sank into the soft flesh of your neck, marking you with a possessive urgency. his body quivered involuntarily, trembling as he found his elusive peak deep within you, his muscles taut and tense, a low groan slipping through his lips.

with a few final, deliberate strokes, he ensured that every last drop of his cum found its home within you. slowly, he withdraws, his body trembling with the residual tremors of delight. he lowers himself gently over you, the weight of his body pressing against your tired form.

he can sense the exhaustion that courses through your body, the subtle quiver of your muscles. he knows that you're utterly spent.

"you did so good, sweetheart," he whispers into your hair, his voice tender. he presses gentle kisses to your forehead and your cheek, savoring the feeling of having you close before getting out of bed.

your soft, weak voice called out to him, “where are you going?” you were expecting some well-deserved cuddles after being so… "intensely loved".

he only chuckled softly and leaned in to place a tender peck on your lips. “get you some water before we continue.”

[kimhargreeves]

A Flashy Act part 2-Buggy x Reader (smut)

Summary: Buggy has decided to question you behind curtains in his private room, which leads you both to share an intimate moment together.

(A/N: The people have spoken and I delivered!! Enjoy this spicy Buggy smut for all you weird clown fuckers like myself. Special thanks to everyone who liked my post! I didn't expect it to become popular in just a day. Anyone enjoy cause this is nasty..or spicy however you want to look at it. A part 3 may be done once I finish the show since I'm on ep 3.)

(Tag list: @pookiesnatcher @alejandro0-0 @ghostlycrystobalove @lenu-i

"Luffy!"

"Don't worry, I got this!" Luffy shouted when Buggy had grabbed me and began to pull me away from the stage, where Luffy was now held. This fucking clown, I swear if he harms that boy. I frowned when the clown began to now pulling me away.

"Quit giving me such a hard time!"

"Hey! What do you think you're doing pulling me into this room-" I was immediately quiet when Buggy grabbed my shoulders dipped me a bit and he unexpectedly began to kiss me.

I started back at him surprised as he lifted me back up on my feet. The first thing I did was slap his across the face and I hid my face.

"I-I'm so sorry! What..why did you-"

Buggy began to chuckle to himself as he held onto the spot I had hit him. His lipstick was smeared around his lips, and it was a bit hard ti tell if I let a mark on his face.

"You're still annoying and hard to please. You haven't changed quite much, (Y/N). Now..Where is my map?!"

I furrowed my eyebrows and leaned closer to look at him. All of the sudden Buggy took a step back and froze.

"Buggy…sorry I don't know what you mean-"

"Ugh I knew it! That damn Shanks probably told you to forget about me. He always does things like this."

I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head. "Shanks you know him?! Wait…" I thought hard and suddenly remembered a certain memory of myself, Shanks and Buggy.

"Now I remember! You took a few punches once when-"

"When a guy threatened to toss you out into the sea." Buggy ended my sentence and sighed.

I started up at the clown and wondered how I had forgotten about him. "We used to hang out didn't we? The three of us."

"Yeah until I was left alone! Shanks returned one day without you, saying how he wanted you to have s nice and decent life, not a pirates one which I thought was bullshit."

"Language." I warn and smirked afterwards.

Buggy sighed and now looked at me up and down. "You really grew up, (Y/N)."

"Flashily I suppose?" I said giving a twirl and giving a wink. "But seriously, did you kidnap us just so you can have the map?"

"That map belongs to me! Not to some prepubescent boy who doesn't know what it's like to be a pirate. Why are you with him anyways?" He asked leaning his back onto the wall and crossing his arms.

"I made a promise to my brother, Shanks. That I would look after him."

"So you're a babysitter then? That's great." Buggy rolled his eyes as he said that and started to take his gloves off. "Really suits your character." He laughed.

I squinted my eyes at him and looked at him from head to know. "Never thought you would go with the whole creepy clown look. You look like you would eat children." I joke.

"I eat others things… I let the whole raw meat thing to my buddy you met back on stage."

Great. So not only are they all supposed to be freaks, but he has a cannibal among them. What else has he been up to for these last couple of years?

"Gross. How many times have you taken advantage of some poor girl..or boy."

"Don't be ridiculous. I would never take advantage of someone if they were against it. And those who accept?"

"Well, let's say we have a pretty good time." He grinned pulling himself back up straight and seeing me fake throwing up.

"Ew.. I did not need that image in my head."

"Don't tell me you're still a virgin! Someone like you? Traveling the sea?!"

I looked around at where he had taken me. Making sure to look well even if it was kinda dark, only a few candles here and there with a vanity mirror and a few makeup scattered around, a small bed with the same lights messily clinging above the room.

"Where's Luffy?"

"Now you're avoiding the question!"

"Just tell me where he is with his ginger girl and broccoli guy!" I said trying me my best to not seem nervous, but really wanting to know if they were safe.

"I'll gladly tell you, once you tell where my map is!" He shouted and seemed to quickly compose himself and curse under his breath.

Buggy dramatically sighed and sat down on the edge of his bed. "Rubber boy is fine, he's entertaining my guests. Other two are with Cabaji."

My eyes looked back at the entrance and worried about the people being held hostage, I even spotted a poor dog with an older man, probably the owner saving the last thing he has, "What about the people?"

"What people?"

"The towns people, you idiot. You have to let them go." I said hoping he'd listen.

Buggy jumped up and began to laugh. "Sure! I'll do it right now, wanna help me?"

I frowned looking at him and was thinking if there's some way I can somehow release some of them. I really need Luffy's help…I decided to be straight and harsh with him.

"No matter how many people you hold captive. You'll never make people love you."

I felt a bit intimidated by his stare when Buggy took steps closer to me and cornered me against the vanity mirror. I looked to the side and felt his stare on me.

"Don't think you'll get a pass out of this, sweetheart. You're doing this so I can let your little friends go." Buggy lowly spoke as he took his ungloved hands and wrapped one around my neck.

"You seriously think that I would take advantage of you?" I question looking back up at him and saw a cold stare on his face.

"I think you're the one wanting to take advantage of me. You want to know where the map is. Well, I won't tell you, because I don't know. Thanks to your bombs I collapsed before I got the chance to see where or who got it."

"And why should I trust you? We don't know each other well." He sang being sarcastic as ever.

"You like playing games don't you? Maybe I can show you that I am telling the truth." I said and smiled.

Buggy frowned and gave me a harsh stare. I reached my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I closed my eyes when Buggy leaned down to kiss me again. I felt him move my hair aside and leaving quick kisses down my neck and collarbone.

I gripped onto his shirt tight and began to kiss his lips again, ignoring how I would end up stained in his makeup. Quickly it began to deepen with me slipping out a moan when I felt his hands on my stomach and felt his pants getting tighter.

I moaned into the kiss when I felt him begin to get rid of my upper half clothes and began to palm my chest. Buggy's kisses began to lower until he reached down my breasts while his other hand played with my other one. While he was busy I started to reach my hand down to his pants beginning to unbutton the first few buttons. His breathing hitched and I could feel him freeze when I touched him.

"It's been years since I saw you. We were kids..I'm sorry I forgot about you. Shanks only wanted what was best for me-"

Buggy instantly grabbed my wrists making me stop and look back at him when with his other hand he grabbed my face.

"Shanks was being selfish as ever. Did he ever wonder what was best for me? He's taken everything from me, and now I have you back." He grinned and now grabbed the back of my head.

He smiled as he placed his hand under my chin and I could see his blue pupils darken. I shivered when I felt his hands beginning to move lower into my pants, until his fingers started to tease my nub.

My breathing hitched and a moaned almost escaped from my mouth, quickly I covered my mouth which made it seem like it was irritating Buggy. With my mouth still covered I saw him beginning to lower himself down on his knees. Quickly he got rid of my pants quick and slowly pulled down my underwear.

I've never been this exposed to someone. I began to cover myself but Buggy held my hands back and he began to leave a few bits down along my thighs until I saw him begin to part my legs. I leaned my back against the vanity mirror making all the things that were on it fall to the ground.

"You are so beautiful, (Y/N)." I heard Buggy say when he saw me naked before him.

Buggy began to lick his smudged lips and I gasped when he grabbed my thigh and placed it on his shoulder. I threw my head back when I saw stick his tongue out and gave a slow and long lick to my entrance, he followed it with another lick until Buggy was swirling his tongue. I loud moan escaped from mouth when I couldn't hold it it anymore.

His nose would occasionally brush against my clit, causing my body to twitch and strain against him. Buggy's other hand continued to thrust his fingers inside me while he pressed his thumb against my nub. "Buggy..” I moaned lowly. My hand continuing to grab his hair tugging at it slightly, causing him to growl right into my cunt again. "I'm gonna-" I squeezed my eyes shut when he thrusted his fingers faster for me to come.

I began to buck my hips forward and continued to tug onto his blue hair which has been tied up. I squeezed my eyes tights and cried out in pleasure when I felt something build inside of me, and when I finally came, I felt my legs about to give out.

Buggy quickly wiped his messy face and quickly stood up and held me close to him. Holding me so I wouldn't fall.

"Not so fast, sweetheart. It's my turn." I was still coming back to reality when Buggy pushed me down on my knees and I was met with his long and big- "There's no way its gonna fit." I thought looking at him.

"Why don't you use your pretty mouth, (Y/N)?" Buggy hummed slipping his thumb into my mouth before pulling it away. I looked down at him and my entire face got red seeing him completely undressed now. What would people say if they saw me about to fuck a clown.

Suddenly I began to feel nervous as I watched him begin to stroke himself a bit until he began to guide his member closer to my mouth, his other hand running through my hair lovingly.

I did what I suppose I am to do, I opened my mouth sticking my tongue out. Buggy wasted no time and he began to gently fuck my mouth. I hummed when I tasted him and heard him groan above me as I took in more of him and took him out with a pop.

I reached my hands out to pump the rest that couldn't fit in when I took him back again and began to gag when he began to fuck my mouth faster. Buggy gripped my head tight and suddenly pulled be back leaving a string of saliva connected to him. I shrieked when he suddenly began to carry me onto the bed.behind him.

Buggy quickly getting rid of his remaining clothes and grabbed my ankles to part my legs when he got on top of me, his hands gripped my hips as he guided his dick between my folds. I shivered when I felt him toying with me and kept on teasing me before he grabbed himself again and began to slide in.

Both of us moaned when he slid deep inside of me. Buggy cursed a few words and he stayed still for a minute, before he began to thrust into me at a rough pace. He slid deep in me with ease as my juices coated his cock. I moaned out and looked to the side feeling shy again, my breasts bouncing with every hard thrust he did as I felt his fingers rubbing my clit harshly.

Again I felt that familiar sensation returning I clenched around his cock as I interlaced my fingers with Buggy when I felt that snap again and my vision got blurry for a second. I began to feel overstimulation when his hands buried into my hair again until one of his hands reached down my neck. His pace became even rougher and faster, making me come closer to my climax again

"B-Buggy!"

I began to cry when he learned down to whisper dirty things into my ear, his playful self no longer present in the room. Tears streamed down my cheeks as he continued to fuck me. Buggy reached down to rub my clit harshly, making me come again and stain the sheets beneath us. And just when I thought we were done, Buggy flipped me so my stomach would be facing the bed and my back facing him.

Another moan escaped from me when I felt a harsh smack against my ass and felt his hands grab my ass and stretching me to take him in better. At this angle I could feel him closer.

I shut to eyes shut and continued to moan and cry every time he would thrust into me. I bit my lips tight as I felt his harsh thrust inside of me. I reached down myself and stated to circle my finger over my clit, the friction along with this man's rough thrusts making my mind go blank as I rested the side of my face onto the bed.

"Buggy..I-I'm.." I cried out when I felt Buggy holding onto my hips tighter pulling me back against him.

I heard Buggy softly laughing as he watched the faces and moans I made. One last moan and cry came out of me when I came hard. I still felt extremely sensitive when I felt Buggy holding onto me tight until we both gasped, I grasped onto the sheets when I felt forward a bit and felt him getting closer

Buggy gripped onto me tight and moaned close to my ear when he came inside of me. I fell forward and began to shake at what happened. Slowly, Buggy pulled himself out.

I got myself comfortable laying on my side and felt something still slowly dripping out of me. I was too tired to speak or to even look back at the blue haired clown.

Last thing I felt was Buggy rubbing my hips and planting a kiss a quick kiss on my head before I watched him leave the bed. Too tired to question anything, I decided to shut my eyes for a quick nap and felt something warm being placed on top of me.

"(Y/N)! You're safe..where the heck where you?!" Luffy questioned seeing my tired face. "Where you kept locked up? Buggy didn't hurt you did he?!" Luffy grabbed my shoulders and began to shake me.

"Luffy! Now's not the time!" I said not wanting anyone to touch me at how sore I felt. I looked at the young boy and smiled, "…I-I'm fine. None of you got hurt?" I asked genuinely concerned for them.

Though I have no idea what had happened since I had blacked out. I only remember falling asleep and well, waking up alone and pulling away from some curtains and making my way outside of the huge tent. That bastard clown. How dare he leave me.

Everyone of the towns people were set free and thanking Luffy for his help. Everyone genuinely seemed happy and very grateful. That way they know that not every pirates are bad.

"Nothing we couldn't handle." Zoro calmly replied walking past me.

"Kicking the clowns ass was fun. You should've seen it." Nami told me after.

They defeated him then? I sigh and smiled looking at Luffy and pulled his straw hat down and chuckled. There's no way he can't know what happened between that clown and I. That fucking clown will pay if I were to see him again.

I looked over at my friend and smiled at him. "You did great Luffy."

I followed Luffy to the ship and saw him waving at everyone where the ship began to sail. We all got busy and I sat down rethinking what the hell I did back there.

Luffy came over and smiled sitting next to me. "Are you sure you're fine? I swear I heard you crying."

My blood ran cold and I grew pale. I noticed Luffy's worried look and he quickly placed his hand over my forehead.

"Are you sick? Don't tell me you're getting sea sick all of the sudden."

"…Nope. I'm sorry I shouldn't worry you. Nothing happened." I lie straight at his innocent face.

The boy smiled and nodded his head. "If you say so! Let me know if you feel any better."

I nodded my head and saw Luffy run over to the front of the boat. I turned around and spotted Nami and Zoro shaking their heads at me.

[celesteleoves]

“DIMPLES ARE SO CUTE!”

ೃ࿐ EREN YEAGER X FEM!READER

summary: eren only shows his dimples around you.

warnings: eren has dimples, fluff, mentions of spicey things (girls teasing girls ykyk), erens very stoic around people he’s not close with.

-

“can you imagine jean having dimples, mikasa? i mean that would boost his ego too much.” annie laughed as you all sat around armins house.

your friend group had decided to have one big hangout! currently, the girls were sitting in the basement catching up on gossip while the boys went out to get stuff for a barbecue later.

“he still looks insanely good annie, can YOU imagine your boyfriend having dimples?” mikasa retorted back as the rest of us girls laughed.

“at least he’s good in bed-”

“hey, y/n, you like guys with dimples right?” sasha questioned as she downed a can of root beer.

“who doesn’t? dimples are so cute!” you said as the girls agreed.

“historia loves me and my freckles, dimples ain’t got nothing on us.” ymir pulled historia to her chest who only giggled and nodded.

you smiled at the two, they were so cute it drove you nuts. but at the moment, you remembered something about your crush and a feature you noticed about him.

“wait, eren has dimples guys!” you said with a smile on your face like you’d just solve the biggest mystery on earth.

the girls narrowed their eyes at you and then turned their attention to mikasa, who was a bit confused as well.

“don’t look at me, i can’t remember ever noticing eren having dimples. you sure y/n?”

“i swear, just wait till he gets back and look closely! you can see them.”

“she’s so in love she’s imaging eren with her favourite features a guy can have.” historia mocked and you rolled your eyes.

“i swear by it.”

mikasa laughed at your words as the girls listened closely to this newfound information.

“sure you do, i’ve known eren my whole life and i dont ever really see any prominent dimples on his face.”

“mika, let’s also remember she’s heavily obsessed with him. of course she noticed these things.” sasha joined in on the teasing as you groaned.

“fine, maybe you guys are right about the dim-”

“right about what?” jean asked as he, armin, and connie walked into the room with drinks and snacks.

“it’s girl talk, jean.” armin said while putting stuff down on a near coffee table before taking a seat on the couch annie sat at.

“well let me in on it!” jean pestered mikasa as he also joined her on the couch also.

“sasha! of course you ate my favourite chips bro.” connie whined as he noticed the chip bag he brought was in her hands and was now devoured by Sasha’s uncontrollable need for food.

“shut up connie!”

“anyways, we were talking about how y/n says she believes eren has dimples.” historia brought the conversation back and now everyone was listening intently.

“that mean bastard? doubt he could have something as attractive as dimples on his cold, ugly face.” jean said as he emphasized the last few words in a mocking way while mikasa slapped his arm.

armin paused and thought about it before speaking. “actually, he might. i think i almost saw his dimples once but he turned away from me, so i couldn’t see them.”

“see!” you smiled in victory and stood up to grab a coke can but before you could, a hand swooped and grab it right out of your reach. the person raised it above their head.

“don’t mind me, i’m really in the mood for some coke.” the person you guys had been talking about for a while finally arrived, eren.

and god damn, he looked too good even though you saw him thirty minutes ago. somehow, he manages to just get more attractive in your eyes day by day.

“eren, i was gonna have that actually so hand it over.” you smiled and reached to grab it, the visible height difference between you two causing troubles.

your friends went silent as they watched you bicker with each other. they had all been rooting for you two to get together, for a while now. you had easily fallen for him, what you didn’t know as of right know is that he fell harder.

although, one thing that made the whole groups jaws drop was the prominent dimples that appeared through eren’s smile as he looked down at you, his green eyes seeming brighter as he teased you and laughed.

“no fucking way.” annie whispered and nudged armin who only stared at the two with a smile on his face.

“shit man, turns out he does have something as cool as dimples on his face.” jean sighed and leaned into mikasa’s shoulder who only let out a chuckle at that.

truth is, mikasa knew eren had dimples. but, she only saw them when eren was around you or when he talked about you with a smile on his face.

-

a/n: heyyy, so i’m back with the aot oneshots too! im in a aot brainrot bc of the trailer and how sad i am that aot is going to be ending soon :( anyways, hope you enjoyed!

please message me if u have any concerns, suggestions, or a specific aot or mha work in mind that you would like me to write!

[sanaexus]

social's as yukimiya's girlfriend

-liked by megubachi, otoya.eita and 123.56k others

yourusername: i can't see i'm bliind BLIIIIND BLIIIIND (pun intended)

tagged: yukimiya.kenyu

oliver.aiku: THE CAPTION HELP FOUL ASF 😭😭 ↳yourusername: BITCH YOU NOW I'M SEXY ↳megubachi: UH DON'T CALL JUST TEXT ME ↳chigi.who: BITCHES SLOW CAN GET ON MY SPEED ↳kuniisuke: THEY STARE AT ME CAUSE THEY KNOW I'M THE ↳rin.itoshi: I-T-G-I-R-L ↳karasu_tabito: ok what the fuck is up with this edgelord ain't no fucking way he typed that ↳yourusername: you're right he didn't i did he went to let out expired water from his wonka ↳reo.miikage: what 💀 ↳hiyori: piss she meant piss

↳yourusername: SAME THING ↳nikkoki: are we going to ignore the original comment? ↳nikkoki: ok yeah ignore me too

yukimiya.kenyu: okay now who the fuck edited that 2nd image better sleep with one eye open ↳oliver.aiku: it won't matter if you sleep with both of your eyes open because you're blind anyways ↳yourusername: HEY DONR BULLY MY BF 🤬🤬🗣🗣🐺🐺ONLY I CAN BULLY MY POOKIE WOOKIE DOOKIE CUTE PATOOTIE APPLE HONEY SUGAR MELON PLUM PIE 10PC CHICKEN MCNUGGETS ↳yukimiya.kenyu: sigh why do i like you ↳yourusername: YOU DONR LOVE ME 🙁🙁☹☹ ↳megubachi: YOU MADE HER SAD NOW WOWOWOW ↳yukimiya.kenyu: no i'm sorry i'll let you paint my nails ↳yourusername: YIPPEE TY BACHIRA ILY 😘😘 ↳megubachi: ILYT POOKS 😘😘

isaichii: hear me out MAYBE just MAyBE giving me picture credits for the first one would be nice. a fucking dog nearly pissed on my show bc of y'all ↳yourusername: AND?? I NEARLY DIED BC THAT HOE IS A BLIND BITCH AND WALKED STRAIGHT INTO A BUS ↳yukimiya.kenyu: BRo?? DONR BLAME IT ALL ON ME ↳yourusername: I DIDN'T EVEN TAKE YOUR NAME WHY ARE YOU THINKING IM TALKING AB U ↳yukimiya.kenyu: BC OF THE FACT YOU CALLED ME A HOE AND A BLIND BITCH AND I WAS THE ONE WHO WALKED STRAIGHT INTO A BUS AND WAS THE ONLY OTHER PERSON IN THE PICTURE UNLESS YOU HAVE A SIDECHICK ↳itoshi_sae: so you admit you're a hoe who's a blind bitch? 💀 ↳yukimya.kenyu: what

user1: jokes aside they're so cute (i fucking hate couples) ↳yourusername: ty pooks (ikr same couples are so cringe imagine not being single) ↳yukimiya.kenyu: w h a t . ↳yukimiya.kenyu: WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR LIKE A YEAR?? ↳yourusername: what idk who u are :x ↳nagi.seishiro: srop txting like me :x ↳yourusername: fuck off

-liked by reo.miikage, julian.loki and 122.8k others

yukimiya.kenyu: my fav side chick xoxo

tagged: yourusername

megubachi: NO WAY BRO REALLY SAID THAT ↳yourusername: mom told me honesty is the best policy 🤷‍♀️ (also you're right he didn't it write the caption i did i stole his phone) ↳chigi.who: yes girl gaslight gatekeep girlboss ↳yukimiya.kenyu: AND WHY ARE YOU GUYS ENCOURAGING HER?? ↳yourusername: bc has balls = no opinion /j ↳yukimiya.kenyu: i see how it is ↳shiidoryu: BALLS MENTIONED RAHHHH 🤬🤬🐺🐺🗣🗣‼‼💯💯😎😎🔫🔫💣💣🔥🔥🔛🔝 ↳hiyori: who let this creature out

user2: my roman empire is how their faces fit together ↳julian.loki: that looks so fucking weird when you write it but ok ↳yourusername: SROP BEING A HATER JS BC U DON'T PULL ↳julian.loki: I DO PULL TFYM 🤬🤬🐺🐺I'M THE ALPHAEST ALPHA ↳yoursername: NO YOU DON'T YOU'RE ALMOST ALWAYS SURROUNED BY SHIRTLESS SWEATY BALL LOVING MEN WHO HAVE "MONSTERS" IN THEM ↳hiyori: soccer players just say soccer players please ↳mikka.kaiser: FOOTBaLL PLAYERS* ↳yukimiya.kenyu: ignoring these dried pieces of celery tysm me n her are meant to be ↳yoursername: OMGOMGOMG THE KUYIMIYA YENYU WANTS ME 😍😍🙀🙀 ↳shoei.barou: kukyimiya yenyu 💀 ↳yourusername: SHUR UP 🙁🙁

yukimiya.kenyu: i'll ignore the caption AND YOU STEALING MY PHONE for now but aside from that have i told you look very pretty ↳yourusername: but you can't even see? 🧍‍♀️ ↳shiidoryu: Y/N TAKE THE FUCKING COMPLIMENT WHEN SUCH A GORGEOUS MAN COMPLIMENTS YOU, YOU ACCEPT IT ↳shiidoryu: also real you can't even see ↳yukimiy.kenyu: i will actually feed you both toilet water ↳yourusername: you're gonna feed me? 🥺 ↳shiidoryu: you're gonna feed us? 🥺 ↳yourusername: FUCK OFF HE'S MY BF?? ↳shiidoryu: tell sae to unblock me and i'll leave him alone ↳itoshi_sae: don't even think about dming me ab this

-liked by nikkoki, alexis.ness and 134.2k others

yourusername: right now, right now baby, i don't care about the other summer (kenyu is the rat, rat is kenyu)

tagged: yukimiya.kenyu

yukimiya.kenyu: first of all i am not your crush i'm your bf?? second of all I DO NOT LOOK LIKE A RAT ↳kuniisuke: seems like something a rat face would say ↳megubachi: no bc y/n said it so it's canon ↳yourusername: still my real one fr ↳megubachi: twins ↳isaichii: bsdhira hiw ciulf yoi do tijs to me ↳rin.itoshi: some please translate that AGAIN ↳yourusername: "bachira how could you do this to me" ↳megubachi: sorry shnookums ↳isaichii: sorry guys kaiser got out of his cage (again) and started chasing me like a duck (again) ↳mikka.kaiser: you still haven't come to papa ↳reo.miikage: again what the fuck?

user2: the moment my f1 addicted brain saw the second picture it instantly said "i have never looked so good" ↳hiyori: LECLERC 🔛🔝 ↳yoursername: NAHH VERSTAPPEN ALL THE WAY🔛🔝 ↳yukimiya.kenyu: said it before and i'll say it again HAMILTON DOMINATION 🔛🔝 ↳julian.loki: hear me the fuck out. logan sargeant 🔥🔥🐺🐺 ↳shiidoryu: RAHHHH WHATS A KILOMETER 🔫🔫💣💣💯💯‼‼😎😎🐺🐺🔛🔝 ↳rin.itoshi: please seek help

mikka.kaiser: NEW JEANS MENTIONED RAHHHHHHH ↳mikka.kaiser: and we can go high 말해봐 yeah 느껴봐 mm-mm ↳alexis.ness: take him to the sky you know, i hype you, boy ↳mikka.kaiser: i raised you well, good boy ↳itoshi_sae: please be kinky, disgusting and possibly gay somewhere else ↳mikka.kaiser: we're not gay ↳alexis.ness: we're not?

yukimiya.kenyu: i see a drop dead gorgeous person right there ↳yourusername: awww ily 🥺🥺 ↳yukimiya.kenyu: oh look you're there too ↳oliver.aiku: LMFAO

nikkoki: jokes aside the first picture is so cute ↳yourusername: thank you 👉👈😝

aryu.jubei: did he try yanking your hair (send hair care routine pls) ↳yourusername: no he didn't SUPRISNGLY (ofc pooks) ↳kuniisuke: dammit ↳yourusername: WHY DO YOU WANT ME HURT SO BAD 🙁🙁 ↳rin.itoshi: surpisngly* ↳shiidoryu: YOU GOT IR WRONG TOO LMFAO

HI CHAT!!111!11 I KNOW I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THIS LIKE A CENTURY AGO BUT ITS FINE (i had school and i came home at like 5 and i had volleyball and track practice and i had to study bc i have exams every week pls save me also i had parent teacher conference and i didn't get cooked) HAPPY SATURDAY GAYS!🐺🐺

also if you took offense to any jokes i'm sorry i really don't mean any of it. i made references to some previous posts bc why not and i love f1 jokes so 😝😝

[starrystella85]

Home Sweet Home Au (image and Au by: @MissMio)

Since the day you left that hell scape of a toy factory known as Playtime Co. you may have brought some stowaways with you, specifically Dogday, Catnap, Kissy, Huggy, Poppy, you get the idea. The human toy experiments that Playtime Co. created from their insane and sadistic imagination, honestly what were they thinking when they did this, anyways you took them home with you to your giant mansion in the woods, that your family owned thanks to not only the money you had made at Playtime Co. while it was still in operation, but because your family owned a huge marketing company that made millions. What was it named? Safe Heaven Toys LLC, funny really that your life revolved around toys.

On the drive home cause you had to make multiple trips during the night so no one would see the monstrosities that were once human in the back of your truck, you pulled into the driveway with the last of the toys, and as soon as you step inside Dogday and Catnap are the first to greet you.

"Welcome home Angel!" The orange stuffed dog said as his tail wagged violently through the air, his tone upbeat and energetic.

"Savior. . .welcome." The purple cat said in a more sleepy tone, but nonetheless excited to see you as his tail snaked it's way around your hips.

"hey guys. . .ugh. . ." You said to them before almost collapsing from the amount of sleep and sustenance you were deprived of, you were lucky that Carnap still had his tail wrapped around your hips to make sure you wouldn't fall face first.

"You need. . .rest now. . .Savior." Catnap stated and honestly you couldn't have agreed more. And so you were brought upstairs to the master bedroom, your room and placed on your king sized bed. As soon as you hit the mattress you pass out immediately, out like a damn light. It would take at least a week before you can recover from all the bullshit that you when through or so the toys thought. Apparently you only need like three days of sleep and a large portion of food, but other than that you were good.

Everyday for the next three days the toys would check on you, making sure that you were alright and well provided for, then just like that you were back on your feet ready to start the day. You've never felt *this* peaceful before, actually you've never felt *this* peaceful a day in your life since you were always moving and on the go, but it felt nice and finally having some company thanks to the living toys you didn't feel as lonely as you originally did before they came into your life.

"Angel how are you feeling now?" Dogday asks you know he's just doing it out of concern for you, he was always a sweet one, possessive? Maybe, but definitely sweet.

"I'm alright Dogday, I've just been doing one to many things that I crashed." You replied back to him, easing his worries, still there's a small glint in his eyes that say otherwise. "I'm being honest Dogday I'm fine." You told him as you began to scratch behind his ears making his foot do the weird moving thing. It was adorable to see and you couldn't help but scratch harder and harder which caused his tail to start thumping against the floor, causing a giggle to come out of your lips. Hearing your soft voice and fits of laughter caused a deep crimson blush to spread across Dogday's face. If he was given the chance he could listen to you all day, cause something about your voice just makes his heart flutter. Unfortunately the moment was short lived cause Catnap having a long ass tail like he does managed to snatch you up and drag you away from the loving pup that was Dogday.

"CATNAP!!! 💢" Yup Dogday was pissed as soon as you were stolen away from him. He tried searching all of the mansion but the mansion was to big and had one too many rooms that Catnap could use to hide, so the poor angry orange puppy gave up, but he swore if he saw that cat again he was going to teach him a lesson about stealing *HIS* angel away from him. Meanwhile Catnap and taken you to the more quiet areas of the house, mainly the ones you didn't have any use for and was just kinda sitting there gathering dust, except for a room that Catnap made to be his nesting spot. The room had a bunch of mattresses, blankets, pillows, and other soft plush-like materials he could find, half of them belonging to you, and the other half you don't know where in gods name he got it from. Probably stole it or something.

"hi Catnap." You said to the large purple cat as he looked at you while holding you within his arms. A faint purr came from his throat as his ears flicked, indicating that he acknowledges you.

"Savior. . ." He says. Ever since you saved him from, what would have been an unfortunate accident if you didn't intervene, was his near death encounter with 1006, and while he knows that he'll always be somewhat loyal to the prototype, he'll mostly be loyal to you just like, if more, the prototype.

Later you were wondering around aimlessly tell someone hugged you from behind. When you looked up you saw the blue huggable monster himself, Huggy Waggy. He'd changed since he and the other toys left the factory with you, and like Dogday, he was extremely clingy. It also didn't help that fact that whenever he looked at you he gave you this innocent little face as if saying "love me."

[accirax]

Danganronpa: Despair Time Chapter 2 Episode 13 Dissection

Jesus CHRIST, the hits keep on coming (/pos). I don't think anyone could have predicted everything that came to light in this episode. But, hey, at least we're finally cooking on the murder method a bit more...?

SPOILERS for Danganronpa: Despair Time though Chapter 2 Episode 13! Also, CW: discussions of suicide.

Similarly to last time, I tried not to look at too many other people's major reactions/theories as to not influence my opinions as they were when I watched the episode. (Although I think I failed to do that more than last week...) Here's what this episode got me thinking about!

Genocide Jack, Junko, Mukuro, Peko, and Korekiyo:

On that note, though, this is... debatably relevant lore about Hope's Peak as it exists in DRDT? We know from Chapter 2 Episode 2 that Veronika (and likely all of the non-Terukos as well) don't remember Trigger Happy Havoc, and, based on this, it's likely that they don't remember much of the history of the old HPA either. Ace being so adamant that HPA wouldn't scout a murderer implies that the new HPA has fully regained its spotless reputation, potentially even more than the Tokyo school ever had.

I want you all to know that I tried to write out a little theory about whether or not Levi could have killed any plot-relevant characters here, but I came to a dead end at every venture. Levi killed Mai? No, he has no motive, and the murder happened before everyone attended Hope's Peak. Levi killed Elliot? No, Ellie was probably killed by dogs, and the timing is all wrong. Levi killed someone at the North C and Chariton incident? That didn't even happen. I was just getting that confused with my theories about what Xander might have done at that incident in FF's DRDT Milgram AU. Not even what actually happened in the AU. Just my theories on what might happen.

The only option I couldn't fully rule out was the idea that Levi killed some of the ~5 missing members of the altDRDT cast, but, holy shit, can you imagine how funny that would be? Teacher and the gang get to the sixth Class Trial and ask all dramatically, "so, what happened to the rest of our class that didn't make it to the killing game...?" and Monowhatever is just like "actually, Levi Fontana just straight up merced those dudes years ago." Hilarious.

Anyways. That goes to show that I do think these were just random guys, and the only specific relevance they would have is in the realm of Levi's backstory specifically.

RIP to the "Levi used to be an assassin" theory. I actually kinda liked that one myself.

(Also, hijacking this image to point out the background music here. You hear the ticking clock motif? Very suspicious indeed...)

Yup, even more confirmation that HPA highly valued having an incredibly pure and righteous image. Of course this HPA was also corrupt. Is it even possible to make an HPA without some level of corruption?

(Levi. My guy. I need you to use a different sprite; the quadruple image combo is starting to look ridiculous.)

What I find really interesting here is that, even in the realm of forgetting about murders, Levi remembers the three random guys before his father. Like, I know that Levi says that he kinda equally doesn't care about everyone (and I believe him to be telling the truth on that), but you would think that, just by virtue of having spent more time with his dad or the people around him's reactions, Levi would have remembered killing his father before offing three random thugs.

I don't know if this is meant to A) really drive the point home that Levi sees no difference between those he "knows" and those he doesn't; B) imply that Levi might have sustained some greater amount of trauma from killing his father that caused him to block that memory out more; C) suggest that killing the guys was more recent than killing his dad, which might lead him to remember it with more clarity; or D) some combination of the former three. However, I think it's an interesting detail to note.

The foils are foiling........

This was hilarious. And lowkey evidence that Nico was the one who tried to kill Ace.

You know, I actually almost made a theory once that the clauses "you're a murderer" and "you have no remorse" could be read as two separate secret statements! Not to say that Levi didn't have no remorse for the killing part, but that having no remorse was a state of being not solely tied to the murdering.

Alsoooo... just gonna say, Levi on Drawing Pins is looking better and better all the time...

Eden: But you're a good person. Why are you saying these things when it's clearly not true? You're so kind to everyone. You're always helping others out, even when it'd be easier not to. Like that time Ace almost died. You kept trying to help him, even if he always pushed you away. Isn't that what "a good person" does?

WE ARE BACK AT IT AGAIN!!! "GOOD PERSON" SPECIFICALLY IN THE LEVI/EDEN CONTEXT AAAAAAAAA

Beyond the further "good person" jumpscare, I found this line interesting due to how Eden describes Ace. Someone who "always pushed [Levi] away." Sounds a lot like Arei, huh? In fact, a lot of it sounds like Eden is applying it to herself.

"But I'm a good person. Why am I thinking these things when it's clearly not true? I'm so kind to everyone. I'm always helping others out, even when it'd be easier not to. Like that time Arei yelled at me. I kept trying to help her, even if she always pushed me away. Isn't that what "a good person" does?"

Obviously, I'm reading into this in the "Eden is the blackened" context, but I think that it's still an interesting read of Eden's mental state even if she isn't the blackened. We know that, to some extent, Eden blames herself for both Min and Arei's deaths. Therefore, despite likely feeling like she's fucked up, she wants to cling onto the idea that she's a good person so she doesn't lose faith in herself.

That leads into some super interesting parallels when it comes to this speech versus what Arei said, but I'll talk about that more once we get to the Arei monologue.

This week, acevi shippers take the L. Really, Levi x anyone shippers, but I think acevi shippers got the worst of it.

Except, they also took the W. "Ace lowkey confirms he once had feelings for Levi" was NOT on my bingo card. Or Star's.

(Also I LOVE this new sprite)

I saw some people talking about Ace's friend (Taylor?) but I do not remember and cannot find any information about this character (so I can't even tell if they're just fanmade :( ). If anyone knows what I'm talking about and has a link, please send it to me. Anyways, "insult to his memory" definitely makes it sound like Ace's friend is dead. I wonder if the way in which he died has anything to do with Ace's fear of horses/cowardice in general.

I want to see more Levi and Veronika interactions so bad. It's no surprise that Veronika was the first to pick up what Levi was putting down. Both of them don't have the "normal" way of processing their feelings and interacting with others, but while Levi has decided to try to be what society deems as "good" anyways, Veronika has decided to fully live by her own creed. I wonder if Levi could be at all convinced by Veronika to go back to his old ways.

Veronika: You're always guessing as to what a normal human would do in your situation. You're so awkward in social settings because you can't tell what other people want.

I'm excited to see Levi and Nico interact too, obviously. I suppose Nico is kinda like the midpoint of Veronika and Levi-- doesn't understand people and wants the world to work the way they perceive it, but also has been bullied enough to feel forced to play along with how others want them to be. Characters like these have become some of my favorite archetypes to discuss. I'm so glad that DRDT has so many of them!!!

The foils are foiling AGAIN...

Why the fuck are you so pressed about the secrets now??? I thought you were all about privacy?????

Well, thank you for "confirming" that swap, ladies! This talk of a pact is very interesting, though. I guess Hu must have gone to Veronika pretty early to ensure that her secret wouldn't get out-- makes sense, as without that there's a good chance Hu could believe that Veronika would reveal her secret at the most unflattering time to create drama.

It does slightly recontextualize Veronika's "A little mystery makes this Trial more exciting, don't you think?", though. I wonder if that was just straight up a lie, or if that was the rationale Hu used to appeal to Veronika. I doubt we'll get a flashback of this scene now that this moment's passed, but I'd love to see it. FTEs...? 👀

David you have to stop this right now or you're going to become my new favorite character. Dude's been dying to don the mantle of the comic relief character, apparently.

Is The Motive Scoreboard Accurate?

I'm including this because I've seen some other people say that it is, specifically on Teruko's front. I strongly believe that this motive board is incorrect, and Teruko and Xander's secrets are swapped.

The blaming yourself secret mentions parentS and siblingS. Back in Chapter 1 Episode 4, Teruko says that she never knew her parents (and therefore may even just be assuming that she has two), and she only had one biological brother. Furthermore, she has no idea if they're dead or not. On the parents front, she could assume that being sent to an orphanage is confirmation enough that her parents are dead instead of just not wanting her. Being sent there with her older biological brother is a further implication of that.

However, Teruko specifically says that her brother "left with some other family." She makes no mention of believing he's dead at all. Therefore, for Teruko to have the secret she claims to have, Teruko would have to be constantly mourning parents and an additional sibling that she never knew, and to believe that all of them are dead despite having no reason to believe that her known brother died.

Obviously, all of these things were said aloud to Charles and Whit, so there is a possibility that Teruko lied about or concealed parts of her past to keep her walls up around those two. However, what does this face from David mean if not "I've caught you in my trap?"

(DRDT sprites are SO GOOD--)

To me, this sprite clearly indicates that David knows that Teruko is lying about something, but has chosen not to bring it up to save it for later purposes. I don't know if he has something specific in mind or just wants to hold the potential blackmail over her head, but I strongly suspect that we'll come back to this someday-- either in later daily life or a post-Trial scene in this chapter.

It's also interesting to note that, while David knows that this is Teruko's for sure, Charles and Whit also have the opportunity to recognize the discrepancy. I definitely wouldn't be surprised if Charles kept notes about what he knows about everyone somewhere. We'll have to see if either of them ask her about it down the road as well.

Eden: I know that she's dead!! I know that she's dead and that she's never coming back. I know that I'll never be able to talk to her ever again. But even then... I have to know that when she was alive, she was still trying to become a good person. That if she lived, then maybe there'd be a world in which we would both be friends. If you really say that you lied about making Arei kill herself, then tell me the truth. Tell me that you didn't make her lose hope. Please! Tell me what happened last night between you and Arei!

Oh boy.

Can Eden Still Be the Culprit?

Look. I understand if you look at this and believe that Eden couldn't possibly be the culprit-- or at least, not without being a completely different character than we know her to be. Because I almost did. Zel's performance did a really good job of selling Eden's heartbreak in a way that makes it feel like she couldn't have possibly been the one to end Arei's life. However, upon further review, I do think that Eden's words could be that of the killer, with minimal levels of intentional manipulation thrown in.

If it would cause you emotional distress to listen to me continue to accuse Eden, I'll write the rest of this section in purple so that you can skip it if you'd like. I don't want to make anyone sad, so I fully understand if you want to avoid these bad vibes. However, for those of you who are still on the fence, and those who have stuck with Eden!culprit all along, here's my justification. I think it'll be easiest to break it down block by block.

Eden: I know that she's dead!!

Okay, well, maybe skipping this section a bit. More points for Arei truly being the one who's dead, I guess?

Eden: I know that she's dead and that she's never coming back. I know that I'll never be able to talk to her ever again.

Alright, so, this can fairly easily be read as the same thing as what Eden was doing back when she was talking to Levi: reassuring herself.

Well, maybe "reassuring" is the wrong word. Basically, she's repeating the same mantra that she told herself when she was trying to justify her decision to kill Arei. When making the decision to kill anyone, the killer (if they care) has to process that they will have to kill every other person in the game if they want to escape for themselves. Therefore, if Eden is the killer, she already had to grapple with the fact that she can't turn back time. ("You can't go back, no matter how hard you try.")

I think that Eden might have it in her head that, even if it wouldn't fully erase her wrongdoings, as long as she doesn't just forgive and forget the whole affair, it makes things slightly better. That's why she was yelling things like "You forgot about all the things you did just because you didn't face any consequences for them? That's incredibly selfish!" at Levi.

Feeling bad about things is her punishment to make sure that Arei is never fully forgotten. She knows that, if she goes through with killing, she'll never be able to talk with any of these people again. However, if there's something more important to her than these 13 lives that she has to escape the killing game to reach, it's a consequence she'll have to accept. She knows it's selfish-- but she at least won't be so selfish as to also forget everyone else's sacrifice.

Eden: But even then... I have to know that when she was alive, she was still trying to become a good person. That if she lived, then maybe there'd be a world in which we would both be friends.

This is probably the part that feels the most damning. Why would Eden care about whether or not Arei was trying to become a good person if Eden is the one who killed her? Wouldn't it be better for Eden if she wasn't?

Well, that's what Eden is trying to figure out, too. In Venus' Narrative Defense of Eden Culprit Theory, Venus says that Eden didn't believe that Arei actually changed and wanted to be her friend. And, it really makes complete sense if she didn't-- Eden had no idea that David and Teruko continued to talk so seriously with Arei after her departure, and Arei saving Eden from Arturo literally happened the same day that Arei had her breakdown. It had probably been, like, 4 hours since Arei chewed her out for her worldview being stupid, and then Arei's suddenly turning around and declaring that she wants to protect Eden at all costs. Of course Eden might just believe that Arei was setting her up for a fall! (Murder pun not intended.)

Venus also adds that, at this point in the Trial, David knew something that Eden didn't: namely, that Arei actually wanted to change, and saw Eden as her inspiration for doing so. Under the assumption that that revelation has been bothering Eden the whole time, it makes perfect sense that Eden would want to know more about what David knew about Arei. She needs to know exactly how terrible she needs to feel for doing this terrible thing.

I think the quote becomes a lot less defendable if you just swap out the "that" for an "if."

"But even then... I have to know if when she was alive, she was still trying to become a good person. That if she lived, then maybe there'd be a world in which we would both be friends."

Now, obviously, you could say that this is an unfair point-- Eden didn't say "if," she said, "that"! How can you excuse Eden based off of evidence that isn't actually real?

My point is that, even if DRDTdev didn't have Eden phrase it that way, it would be an incredibly easy swap to make. Thus, the only way in which Eden would have to be lying is to swap out one word. With that one word, "if," we see how she's still doubting whether Arei really was trying to be a good person, and can read into why she's bringing that up at this time. To disguise it, all Eden has to do is trade "if" for "that"-- she doesn't have to be some masterful lying manipulator to pull off a quick exchange that makes her look more innocent.

Eden: If you really say that you lied about making Arei kill herself, then tell me the truth. Tell me that you didn't make her lose hope.

Eden needs the truth so that she can know how despicable she actually is (in her opinion). She needs to know how bad she needs to feel for taking Arei's life, so that she won't wind up as "inhuman" as Levi.

I also think that "tell me that you didn't make Arei lose hope" could be interpreted in a killer-ish way. There is a rhetorical device in English that sorta turns words like that on their head. Like, if I said, "don't tell me you spoiled DRDT for all of your followers!," it's often interpreted as "I know that you did spoil DRDT for all of your followers, but I don't want to hear it." In this case, Eden might not want David to tell her that he made Arei lose hope because she doesn't want to believe that Arei had any hope in the first place. It's better than if Eden was the one to directly crush those hopes, sure, but if Arei approached David talking about wanting to be a better person mere hours before her death, that still means that Eden was killing a hopeful Arei. She doesn't want David to confirm her worst fears.

I don't know if I phrased that section exactly how I imagined it in my mind, but hopefully you understand what I'm getting at.

Eden: Please! Tell me what happened last night between you and Arei!

In the end, though, Eden knows that she has to face the music to figure out how she wants to proceed with this trial, whether that's sinking the cost of her fallacy or owning up to her crime. And that's how I think you can justify this outburst of Eden's within the context of her being the blackened, without having to fully corrupt her character.

What Arei Meant

This part isn't a theory, exactly; it's more of an analysis of the point I think Arei was trying to convey in this section. I've seen some people be sad about the new note that Arei's character is "going out" on, but I actually think that this is a pretty realistic, thematic ending for where Arei's story and the themes of the chapter are headed. Time to praise DRDTdev's writing for a bit!

Arei: I'm a manipulative, two-faced bitch. I pretend to be cute so that I can treat others like trash. I only care about myself, and I always hurt others for selfish and stupid reasons. Of course I wanted to change myself. [...] Still, for the longest time, I thought it was stupid to even try. I'm rotten to the core, and I might as well be a different species from saints like you and Eden. [...] No matter what, I'll never be a good person. And yet, despite all that... David, you... It turns out that you might be a total piece of shit after all. If even a perfect inspirational speaker like you turns out to be an asshole, then there's no such thing as "a good person." [...] And that makes me relieved, because it means I'm not too far gone. It's okay that I'll never be a good person, because no one else can be either.

I don't think that Arei is saying that the world is a lost cause.

Instead, she's saying that no one is a lost cause. She's applying that Syndrome logic: "if everyone is a bad person, no one will be." Arei thought that, because of her upbringing, there was no possibility that she could ever Be Good, because she'd already done too much wrong. Good People are perfect, unerring gods who do nothing but help others and reach out to wayward souls. However, David's manipulations proved that that wasn't true.

Good People fuck up. Good People do good things for bad reasons, and bad things for good reasons, and, hell, if David is a Good Person, then Good People do bad things for bad reasons sometimes, too! Arei confessed to us that she felt like her life was over because she was given an unfair start. However, now she knows that the bar has been lowered, and that being a good person can be done by anyone, anywhere, at any time. Perfection doesn't exist. Now that she knows that there was never any need to be perfect, the chance she sought for so long has finally been granted.

(Dipping back into purple for a sec to talk about Eden culprit stuff)

After this, I feel like the theme of this chapter has to be about deconstructing the myth of "The Good Person." You think that Nico is just a soft and shy bullying victim? No, they're just as willing to kill as anyone else. You think that Hu is a gracious motherly figure? No, she has an angry streak and talks over other people. You think that Levi is a softhearted giant who just struggles with what to say sometimes? His kill count is higher than everyone who's died to the killing game so far, and he doesn't really care that that's the case. You think that Whit is just a silly guy who cares about others? Fuck, even he's willing to stall out the trial in an attempt to fulfill his own agenda.

The main person who hasn't yet been proven so be not as good as they seem so far is Eden, who in this episode has been clinging to the idea of being a good person harder than ever. I know that some people believe that Eden needs to survive to fulfill the role of the optimist, but I feel like this episode proves that that isn't true. We don't need A Hopeful Person because anyone can step up to the plate and believe in hope if they want to do so. Eden isn't A Good Person, but a real person, who's just as capable of laughing and crying and living and dying as anyone else.

A good person is not gold. That's why everyone who tried to cling to the idea that they were being A Good Person-- Xander, David, Levi-- has always wound up hurting others in the end. Xander believed his actions were morally justified, and thus decided to kill Teruko, causing Min's death and lots of anguish for Teruko. David wanted to follow in his footsteps, and beyond his inspirational speaker persona causing damage to himself, he was also about to kill everyone else to do "what's right." Levi (Arei pending) hasn't killed anyone since trying to become A Good Person, but pretending to follow those guidelines without actually wanting to change anything about himself emotionally hurt Ace, who was set up with false expectations.

If Eden is so convinced that she's a good person, she's only blinding herself to the ways that she's inevitably not.

Back to Arei, while it is sad that her development was cut off just as she made this revelation, I believe that clarifying this additional bit of content is a way to allow her to rest in peace. Even if she didn't get to transform as much as she wanted to, she at least got to die knowing that she wasn't as wretched as she convinced herself that she was all these years, and having done at least one good thing-- saving Eden from Arturo-- before she passed. It's an amazing character arc to squeeze in for your second victim.

Phew, finally, a chance to talk about objective lore instead of heavy and divisive character themes! Except, uh...

WHAT THE FUCK???

Remember when, at the beginning, I said that no one could have predicted everything that came to light in this episode? This was the main point I was talking about. I don't think anyone saw this reveal coming, especially in this moment.

For starters, even though this CG does appear in David's memories, I don't think that he or Arei actually remembers whatever this was taking place. Beyond me attempting to debunk the idea that David had additional memories of Hope's Peak last week, Arei or David specifically referring to this moment means that they had to... be there? When whatever this was happened?

I say "whatever this was" to briefly create suspense before connecting the dots everyone's already talked about: that Eden was probably the one to scratch out Xander's eye. This would make Eden the "she" that Xander (er, I mean, "the guy with the bloody hands") talks about in the intro scene.

It also gives some more context to the clock with the fork stabbed into it depicted in LGI.

I don't know if "non-functional" and "I didn't expect her to" mean that Eden could have been brainwashed or otherwise broken down into not acting like herself when this happened, but it certainly seems out of character for what we know of Eden. Even her facial expression seems to suggest that she might not have wanted or intended to attack anyone with that fork.

Anyways, for Arei or David to know about the contents of that CG, they would've had to both be there when Eden attacked Xander and then also have regained/had their memories of it, which seems unlikely given how both of them treat Eden. Like, even if Arei is sure that Eden "did something to hurt someone in the past," this seems a bit extreme, and David probably wouldn't be so neutral on her if he knew that she attacked his man.

Another really clever point that I saw someone make (AND THEN COULDN'T TRACK DOWN WHO OR IN WHICH POST IT WAS--) was that Eden is wearing her current outfit in this CG. Interestingly, I looked back at A History of Hope's Peak and Visiting Graves to see what Min and Xander were wearing, and while Min was wearing her typical killing game uniform, Xander was wearing something different. Given that Min's scene takes place in HPA and Xander's doesn't, this could imply that Min was wearing the HPA uniform? That's fitting, for her.

We also know that the DRDT cast were all wearing these outfits believing that they were headed for the HPA entrance ceremony. Therefore, we know that Eden would wear this getup to school, but we don't know if she'd wear it elsewhere. Once again, assuming it was Xander who got forked, we can place this CG some time between Visiting Graves and the start of the killing game. I have a hunch that Visiting Graves might have taken place during HPA's spring break-- in A History, Min and Mai (er, I mean, "Unnamed Student") are at school studying for a test with "Spring Break next week" on the chalkboard, while in Visiting Graves, Mai and Xander have traveled elsewhere-- but that's not confirmed, so we can't lock it down.

Maybe we can get more information about this in Eden's bonus episode! Because, well, I at least do think that most of the mysteries of this CG could be solved within a bonus episode and/or other characters talking about her posthumously in later chapters. Again, I understand if you want to use this CG as evidence that Eden is important enough to need to stick around, though.

AREI I MISS YOUUUUUUUUUU

Also, I didn't catch this at all, but credit to everyone who noticed how similar this scene is to the "Diana Chiem" scene in LGI! Fascinating implications that I have no additional thoughts on at the moment. Mostly because we don't know shit about Diana, if that even is her who's portrayed in that CG. I'm sure I'll come back to this someday, just not right now.

Oh, and I don't think you can really argue that Ace made up this conversation anymore. Idk how much of it he stuck around to listen to, though.

See like why is she so pressed about it???

I'd like to say that this is a win for Whit not being the mastermind (because he doesn't seem to know what MonoTV is talking about), but he could probably just be going "why are you saying that at this time?" or something like that. Sigh (/j)

Why Does Whit Know So Much About Hanging?

Alright, so, obviously, this could be a super-suspect hint that Whit knows all of this stuff about hanging and therefore decided to use that knowledge to kill Arei. But, I don't care about that! What I don't understand is how Whit came to know all of this in the first place!

Well, after a quick review, there's one option that stands out more than all the others: Whit's mom was killed by hanging, likely self-inflicted. The only thing we "know" about Whit's mom dying (assuming that secret really is his) is that she is dead, and Whit omits it. It's phrased pretty vaguely. We also know that Whit thinks his mom is awesome, but that doesn't tell us anything about how she saw herself. Sadly, I think this lines up all too well.

Whit's main character flaw, as we've seen throughout the story so far, is ignoring things that stress him out or make him sad. He represses, and chooses not to get involved in others' fights because it's "not his business." It would make sense if the same extended to what he was like before the killing game. If Whit always chooses to ignore things that worry him, there's a possibility he blames himself for his mom's death via not paying enough attention to any warning signs that her mental state might have gotten so dire. Of course, if repression runs in the family, she might have been doing her best to not make it obvious as well.

So, even though he hates himself for not giving his mom enough support in her darkest hour, he still can't (yet) make any changes in his life because ignorance is the only way he knows how to cope. Yet, he still won't let himself pass up on helping another soul in clear need of support, like Charles panicking over the blood, or Eden suffering over seeing Arei's body. He can push himself to help others that are sad, as long as he never focuses on himself.

Or, he's the time loop mastermind who's heard Class Trials discuss hanging a billion times before. You never know with this guy.

CONGRATS TO FF AND BADJOE FOR BEING THE SMARTEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉 Man, even seeing Teruko explain this mechanism as the truth, I still don't know if I would've been able to come up with it myself. This fandom is so smart :D

(Also, why was Whit a dog? Goddammit, is this more MonoTV coding?! /lh)

FUCK YES, WE'RE ACTUALLY GOING TO GET ANSWERS ABOUT THE GYM MURDER IN THIS TRIAL? HALLELUJAH! IT'S ABOUT TO BE T A P E T I M E, MOTHERFUCKERS! (/j)

Phew, barely squeaked it within 30 images! I'm impressed and amazed that DRDTdev keeps managing to make such gripping episodes week after week.

Get it? Gripping? Like grippy tape?

I'd apologize, but you're almost certainly going to hear more of that from me next week. Until then!

[kairiscorner]

looks like someone put a pause on the grumpiness ; )

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

miguel x grumpy reader pt. 2

(part 1)

surprisingly, you were quite calm for the past few days. you seldom got annoyed at everyone, in fact, you seemed a little nicer. everyone was more horrified of you being nicer than usual than the classic, snappy image of you that they were so used to seeing.

you had a smile on more often, it unsettled a lot of people, but when they found out you were genuinely happier, they couldn't have been any more relieved. they didn't know what changed in you that you were suddenly a more friendly, more approachable person than before, but they didn't need to know.

miguel, of course, was very aware of what changed; and he was falling for that version of you as each and every day passed by.

behind closed doors, you were a goofy, beautifully emotional mess in front of miguel. you would change your expression and demeanor on the dime when it was necessary, can't have everyone think you didn't care about work anymore; but you liked letting loose every once in a while, especially when it came to the man who, once feared you greatly, now loves you wholly.

you two tried to keep your little "companionship" under wraps, sometimes some random spider person would catch you two together and think that you two would snap each other's necks off, but no, you two would just talk. and smile at each other. that was a scarier sight, so they'd just walk or swing off and pretend they saw nothing, it wasn't their business, anyway.

"feels good being feared, huh?" miguel asked you with a chuckle as he looked into your eyes, taking in how breathtaking you look, right in front of him; flashing him the sweetest smile he'd ever be treated to in his entire life. "you like being respected like the scary little spider you are?" he teased as he ran a hand through your hair, his smile widening all the while as he heard you giggle.

"it is quite... fun to have them run away or straighten up when i enter the room. it used to be offensive, but i wear the impressions they have of me as badges of honor." you expressed with exaltation, kind of a little too proud that you were well respected, at least in your perspective, at HQ. you loved being a leader, you hated it when others griped or disobeyed your orders, let alone someone else tell you what to do; and you took no nonsense none of the time.

recently, you were more lenient with your leading style--you gave the spider people under your leadership some breathing room, gave them more breaks, you barked less orders at them. you always gave constructive criticism and proper advice on how to wrap up missions neatly; you just always struggled with delivery, you weren't exactly the best people person, but you had a big heart, even if you kept it hidden away from many eyes.

miguel sighed in contentment as he leaned closer towards you, a small pink hue dashing his cheeks. "i do seem to find myself a little attracted to someone who can keep up with my style of leadership. someone who knows what they want and won't back down until they get it just the way they want it." he muttered as you felt his breath hot against your face, your noses nearly brushing over each others, which sent a shock up your spine, causing you to sit up straighter, and to blush a deep red shade.

"i know you're smitten with me, o'hara, i just didn't think you'd be, what was the term? ah, masochi-" you were cut off as he put a finger on your lips, laughing to himself softly. "i'm just simply admiring a strong, capable, scary comrade." he said as he rubbed the tip of his finger over your soft lips.

you chuckled back. "that tickles." you commented as his finger rested on your lower lip. before either of you could do anything else, lyla appeared in between the two of you, looking smug and snarky as usual.

"hey lovebirds, anyway, stop being like a married couple for a minute and check this out." she said as she pulled up a slideshow of pictures of another universe your most recent team was sent to. they were tied up in their own webs and the villain was causing mass destruction, civilians running away every which way, it was utter madness.

miguel sighed and cursed under his breath in spanish as the your bottom eyelid twitched as you continued smiling as if nothing were wrong.

"this is what i get for being too nice, apparently." you grumble as you headed off to get your equipment. but before you could even go, miguel gently grabbed hold of your wrist, looking at you with soft eyes. "regardless of what trouble they get in, or how much destruction is out there... you're always a great leader. it wasn't your fault for being more lenient, they should've been more responsible and organized. okay? you're doing amazing already as you are, querida." he said as he tucked a lock of stray hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek as his palm found its way down your face.

you smiled at his comforting words, it took your anger away by a smidge and reassured you a whole lot more than you expected it to. "okay. thank you, miggy." you thanked him as you gave him a peck on the cheek and grinned as you walked off to get your equipment, leaving in your wake a flustered mess of miguel.

he leaned against his desk and grinned widely, lyla taking pictures of his astonished self as he takes in the softness of your lips, the sweetness and reality of your kiss on his cheek.

you gave your team a stern and firm talking-to about following protocol, the plan, and not straying away from the team to please their own ego. you did some screaming, but they weren't complaining; they didn't do as you said, and they got themselves tangled up in that mess.

but as you were chewing them out, miguel came by and petrified every single one of them with his signature, cold gaze. "think they learned their lesson?" he asked you with his hands on his hips as he peered at you. "i'm hoping they did." you said as you looked at him with your arms crossed on your chest.

after a few seconds of you two playing the angry parents card, you and miguel cracked into smiling faces and laughed a little at how scary you were both being in front of these guys. you dismissed them with a warning, and you sighed.

"you did a great job paralyzing them with your gaze, grumpy mcgrumpface." you teased miguel as he looked at you with a grin. "not as much as how you were raising your voice to get your point across, the scary grumpspider." he retorted playfully as he moved closer to you, facing you and taking in all your beauty.

"i love you." he mutters as you mutter an 'i love you, too' back at him. he closed the distance between you two with a soft kiss, it was simple, it was sweet, it was short; but he told you everything he felt, had ever felt, and will ever feel in that brief kiss he planted on your lovely lips.

"can't believe grumpy mcgrumpface has such good kissing skills." you remarked as you ran your finger over your lips. he chuckled as he cupped your face in his hands. "wanna see how far i can go with those skills, oh scary grumpspider?"

a/n: this was supposed to be angst, but this is your canon event with him <333

tags !! @miguelswifey04

[mononijikayu]

quiet eyes — geto suguru.

He took in the image of you, one that has matured, has grown, has changed over the course of a decade. Yet there was something in his eyes, a conflict, when he looked at you. You didn’t understand why, you didn’t understand where it came from but you didn’t say anything. You just let this moment stay as it was. You let your eyes quietly take in how he has grown in these years. And you know, he was doing the same with you.

GENRE: Pre-Hidden Inventory Arc to Post-Hidden Inventory Arc, 1997 to 2010;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Young Love, First Love, Emotional Hurt, Domestic Life, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining, Friends to Lovers, Grief, Long Distance Relationship, Break-Up , Reconciliation, Closure, Past Lives, Emotional Turmoil, Trauma, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Parenthood;

masterlist

song: quiet eyes by sharon van etten

note: i wrote this after sobbing to a rewatch of celine song's past lives and i realized, its so suguru coded and this is what i came up with. my friend did the beta read and they said i should stop writing for their mental health cause they sobbed about it!!! anyway, i hope you guys enjoy it!!! i love you all~

YOU SOMEHOW ALWAYS GET LOST.  It was New Year’s Eve again, a night you eagerly anticipated each year. You wore your best winter coat, its soft, warm fabric wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The streets were alive with festive energy, and your hand was firmly clasped in your mother’s as you navigated the lively crowd. This annual visit to the shrine was a cherished tradition—a time to pray to the gods for a good year and wish for a bountiful year ahead. 

The shrine was adorned with vibrant decorations, and the air was filled with the tantalizing scents of festival foods. Lanterns hung from every tree branch, casting a magical glow that made the snow glisten like a blanket of tiny diamonds. As you and your mother approached the shrine, you could hear the rhythmic beating of taiko drums and the joyful chatter of families and friends coming together to celebrate.

After making your way through the crowd, you and your mother finally reached the shrine. You joined the line of people waiting to offer their prayers. Your mother guided you through the familiar ritual—ringing the bell, clapping your hands, and bowing deeply. Together, you prayed for health, happiness, and prosperity, the wishes echoing in the silent spaces of your hearts.

Once your prayers were done, you and your mother decided to explore the festival. There were so many stalls, each one more fascinating than the last. You were particularly captivated by a booth selling colorful masks and another with a game where you could win goldfish.

Amidst the excitement, you noticed a beautiful display of kites. Entranced, you let go of your mother’s hand for just a moment, stepping closer to get a better look. When you turned back, she was nowhere in sight. Panic surged through you, and the festive sounds around you became a blur of noise as you called out for her, your voice lost in the sea of revelers.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you frantically searched for any familiar face. It felt as if the world was closing in around you. One moment, you were holding her hand tightly, and the next, you were adrift in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Panic set in as you called out for her, your voice swallowed by the cacophony of the celebration. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a sinking feeling of helplessness.

Just as the world seemed to close in around you, a gentle voice broke through your anxiety.

"Hey, are you okay?"

You turned to see a boy about your age with kind and warm purple eyes and a reassuringly graceful smile. His dark hair framed his face, and he carried an air of calmness that immediately put you at ease. This young boy, his name was Geto Suguru, though you didn't know his name yet.

"I... I can't find my mom," you stammered, your voice trembling, wiping your tears away.

Geto's expression softened with understanding. "It's okay. I'll stay with you until we find her. Don't worry."

He took your hand in his, and together, you began to navigate the crowd. Despite the chaos around you, Geto's presence made you feel safe. He chatted with you, asking about your favorite games and food, distracting you from your fear. You found yourself laughing at his jokes and stories, the tension slowly easing from your shoulders.

As you wandered, Geto kept an eye out for anyone who might be looking for you. He was patient and kind, never letting go of your hand. His maturity and kindness were far beyond his years, and you were in awe of him. He seemed so composed, so generous, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration. There were stars in your eyes as you watched him interact with others, his gentle demeanor and thoughtful actions standing out amidst the bustling crowd.

You wondered if you could ever be like him—so good, so tender, so mature. The way he handled the situation with such grace and calmness inspired you. You admired his ability to stay composed and kind, even when faced with the daunting task of helping a stranger in distress. It made you aspire to be better, to embody those same qualities of compassion and maturity.

As the festival began to wind down and the crowd thinned out, Geto reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flip phone. With practiced ease, he dialed his mother's number, his fingers moving swiftly over the keypad. After a few moments, he brought the phone to his ear, his expression tense with anticipation.

"Mom?" he said, his voice soft but urgent. "I'm at the shrine. Can you come pick me up? I found someone who got separated from their mom."

As he spoke, you watched Geto's face, noting the concern etched into his features. Despite his calm demeanor, you could tell that he was worried about his own mother's reaction. But to your relief, his expression softened as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Okay, I'll wait here," Geto replied, his voice tinged with relief. "Thank you, Mom."

With a click, he closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Turning to you, he offered a reassuring smile. "My mom is on her way. She'll be here soon."

True to his word, within minutes, a woman appeared in the distance, her face a mixture of concern and relief as she hurried toward you both. Geto's mother enveloped him in a tight hug, her eyes brimming with tears as she whispered words of reassurance.

"Suguru, are you okay? What happened?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Geto explained the situation, recounting how he had found you wandering alone in the crowd and stayed by your side until help arrived. His mother listened intently, her expression softening with pride as she looked at her son.

"You did the right thing, Suguru," she said, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

Together, Geto and his mother welcomed you both, offering words of comfort and reassurance. They stayed with you until your own mother arrived, her face a mixture of relief and gratitude as she hugged you tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what we would have done without you and your son."

Geto's mother smiled warmly, her eyes shining with kindness. "It was no trouble at all. I'm just glad we could help."

As the evening drew to a close and the festival began to wind down, it was time for you and Geto Suguru to part ways. You approached him, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance filling your heart. Geto turned to you, his gentle smile putting you at ease even as you felt a pang of sadness at the thought of saying goodbye.

"Thank you so much." you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Geto's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "It was nothing, really," he replied modestly. "I'm just glad I could help."

Your mom whispers to you, that you should go home and get some rest. You nodded at her and you watched that boy wave his hand at you. You nodded back at him. You turn your back on him. But it was then, you gasp and turn around and run towards him, causing him to gasp as you lean against his personal space. 

"Hey, what's your name?" you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Geto Suguru," he replied, blinking as his voice responded softly.

You nodded, committing his name to memory. You introduced yourself too, extending your hand in friendship. He smiled at you, his purple eyes turning brightly back at you.

Geto shook your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "It's nice to meet you," he said, a genuine smile lighting up his face. 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You gleefully say back to him, grinning.

"I hope we meet again someday," Geto said, his voice tinged with sincerity.

You smiled back at him, your heart feeling lighter knowing that even though you were saying goodbye for now, there was a chance that your paths might cross again in the future.

"Me too," you replied, the words carrying a promise of friendship and possibility.

With a final wave, you and Geto went your separate ways, the memory of your chance encounter lingering in your thoughts long after the festival had ended. And as you made your way home, getting ready for bed, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected friendship. You think that this will fill your heart with joy for a long time.  One that had brightened your New Year's celebration and left a lasting imprint on your heart.

You lay in bed, moving to your side and closing your eyes.

You wonder if the gods would allow you one more wish.

You wish you could meet Geto Suguru when you wake up.

WHEN YOU MEET SUGURU AGAIN, IT WAS MIDDLE SCHOOL. The first day of middle school was a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirling through the air like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. As you stepped through the doors of the school, you were greeted by the lively buzz of students reuniting after the summer break, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of anticipation.

The corridors echoed with the sound of footsteps echoing on the linoleum floors, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter or excited chatter. Lockers slammed shut with a metallic clang, backpacks were slung over shoulders, and pencils were nervously tapped against desks as students settled into their new classrooms.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation tinged with a hint of apprehension. Everything felt new and unfamiliar—the layout of the school, the faces of your classmates, the rhythm of the day unfolding before you.

As you made your way to your first class, you were met with a whirlwind of activity—a flurry of introductions, syllabus handouts, and icebreaker games designed to break the ice and ease the transition into the new academic year. The air crackled with energy as teachers and students alike embraced the opportunity for a fresh start, eager to embark on the journey that lay ahead.

In the hushed stillness of the classroom, amidst the shuffling of papers and the murmur of conversations, you found yourself unable to resist stealing short glances across the room. There, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, your eyes locked onto a figure that seemed oddly familiar—a flash of recognition igniting a spark of curiosity within you.

As the pieces fell into place, a realization washed over you like a wave crashing against the shore—it was Geto Suguru. The same Geto Suguru who had once been your companion in childhood, the same Geto Suguru who had shared in moments of laughter and understanding during that fateful New Year's festival all those years ago.

Your lips parted in silent astonishment as you stood there, a sense of wonderment enveloping you like a warm embrace. It was as if fate itself had intervened, weaving your paths together once more in a way that felt almost predestined—a serendipitous twist of fate that defied explanation yet felt undeniably right.

The realization that you and Geto were classmates filled you with a sense of awe and gratitude, the threads of destiny drawing you together in a way that transcended the boundaries of time and space. It was as if the universe had conspired to reunite you, stitching together the fabric of your lives in a way that felt both miraculous and inevitable.

In that moment of silent awe, a wave of comfort washed over you, soothing the fluttering nerves that had danced in your stomach upon realizing that Geto Suguru was indeed your classmate once more. It had been so long since you had seen him, since the days of childhood innocence and carefree laughter. And yet, despite the passage of time, the bond you shared felt as strong and immutable as ever.

With each step you took towards him, the distance between you seemed to shrink, bridging the gap that had separated you for so long. The morning light cast a soft glow upon his features, illuminating the contours of his face and the subtle changes that time had wrought. You couldn't help but notice how he had grown taller since you last saw him, how his frame had filled out with the promise of adulthood. His hair, once a tousled mop of unruly curls, was now neatly tied back in a bun, accentuating the angular lines of his jaw and the intensity of his gaze.

As you drew closer, you couldn't help but marvel at the transformation that had taken place—the way he had grown more beautiful and handsome with each passing year. There was a quiet strength in the set of his shoulders, a confidence in the way he carried himself that spoke of maturity and self-assurance. And yet, beneath the veneer of adulthood, you could still see traces of the boy you had known—the same warmth in his eyes, the same kindness in his smile.

In that moment, as you stood before him, the years melted away, leaving behind only the essence of your shared history and the promise of new beginnings.

"Geto–kun?" you uttered softly, the name slipping from your lips almost instinctively. 

Geto's gaze met yours, his expression mirroring your own sense of surprise and recognition. "Oh, it’s you!" he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fancy seeing you here."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the serendipitous twist of fate that had brought you together once again. "I can't believe we're in the same class," you exclaimed, a hint of excitement in your voice. “After all this time, huh?”

"Yeah, it's pretty wild," Geto agreed, his eyes bright with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

As the realization sank in, a flood of memories from your childhood encounter at the New Year's festival came rushing back. The shared laughter, the moments of quiet understanding—it all felt like a lifetime ago, yet here you were, reunited once again in the most unexpected of places.

"It's like fate brought us together," you mused, a sense of awe coloring your words.

Geto nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Maybe it did," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of wonder.

As you pondered the serendipitous nature of your reunion, a faint smile played at the corners of Geto's lips, mirroring the quiet sense of wonder that danced in his eyes.

"It's strange how life works sometimes," he continued, his voice soft and contemplative. "The way it brings people back into our lives when we least expect it."

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of kinship with Geto as you shared in the mystery of fate's guiding hand. "Yeah, it's like we were meant to find each other again," you remarked, a sense of certainty settling within you like a comforting embrace.

For a moment, the two of you stood in companionable silence, lost in the quiet beauty of the moment. The bustling classroom faded into the background, leaving behind only the warmth of shared memories and the promise of new beginnings.

"I'm glad we did," Geto said softly, his gaze meeting yours with a depth of understanding that resonated deep within your soul.

"Me too," you replied, a genuine smile gracing your lips as you felt the weight of the years slip away, leaving behind only the simple joy of reconnecting with an old friend.

As the bell rang, signaling the start of the day's lessons, you and Geto exchanged a knowing glance, silently acknowledging the significance of this unexpected reunion. And as you took your seats side by side, a sense of anticipation filled the air, carrying with it the promise of friendship and camaraderie that would endure far beyond the confines of the classroom walls.

You looked at him for a moment. 

His glance turns back at you too.

You smiled at him, he smiled at you.

You felt your face turn red for a moment.

Has his smile always looked this beautiful?

YOU BOTH WENT IN DIFFERENT SCHOOLS IN HIGH SCHOOL.Watching Suguru step into his new chapter at Jujutsu High filled you with a complex array of emotions. Pride swelled within you as you witnessed him embark on this journey he had long dreamed of. His determination, his dedication—it was inspiring to see him pursue his passion with such fervor and commitment. Yet, intertwined with that pride was a profound sense of longing, a yearning for his presence that tugged at your heartstrings with each passing moment.

The prospect of being apart from Suguru, even temporarily, casts a shadow over your excitement. The thought of not having him by your side, of not being able to share in each other's daily joys and struggles, left an ache in your chest that was difficult to ignore. As much as you wanted him to succeed and thrive at Jujutsu High, the prospect of being separated from him weighed heavily on your heart.

Every time you thought about Suguru navigating the challenges of his new school, facing dangerous cursed spirits and confronting the unknown, a wave of worry washed over you. You couldn't help but fret over his safety, over the dangers he might encounter in his quest to become a jujutsu sorcerer. The distance between you only amplified these fears, leaving you feeling helpless and vulnerable.

You had always known about Suguru's ability to see cursed spirits. You had witnessed firsthand the toll it took on him—the sleepless nights, the restless tossing and turning as his mind wrestled with the dark entities that plagued his existence. And though he always reassured you that he was fine, that he could handle it on his own, you couldn't help but worry about him.

As you sat together in Suguru's childhood bedroom, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the walls, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the air. Suguru had just confided in you about his ability to see cursed spirits, a revelation that sent a chill down your spine.

"I've always been able to see them," Suguru admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Ever since I was a child."

You listened intently as Suguru recounted his experiences, describing the terrifying visions that haunted his nights and the relentless whispers that echoed in his mind. It was as if he were living in a nightmare, trapped in a world where darkness lurked around every corner.

"And the worst part is," Suguru continued, his expression haunted, "I can't escape them. No matter where I go, they're always there, lurking in the shadows."

Your heart ached at the pain etched into Suguru's features, the weight of his burden evident in every word he spoke. You had witnessed firsthand the toll it took on him—the sleepless nights, the restless tossing and turning as his mind wrestled with the dark entities that plagued his existence.

"I'm fine, really," Suguru assured you, sensing your concern. "I've learned to live with it. But sometimes...sometimes it's hard to bear."

In that moment, as you gazed into Suguru's weary eyes, a surge of empathy washed over you. You couldn't begin to imagine the horrors he faced on a daily basis, the constant battle against forces beyond his control. Yet, despite the darkness that threatened to consume him, Suguru remained steadfast, his resilience a testament to his strength of character.

Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled Suguru close, offering whatever comfort you could in the face of his suffering. "You don't have to face this alone," you whispered, your voice filled with determination. "I'll be here for you, no matter what."

But amidst the whirlwind of emotions, there was a glimmer of hope—a deep-seated belief that no matter the distance, your bond with Suguru would endure. You clung to the memories you shared, the moments of laughter and love that had forged an unbreakable connection between you. And though the road ahead might be fraught with challenges and obstacles, you knew that together, you and Suguru could overcome anything.

So, as you watched him stride confidently into the halls of Jujutsu High, a sense of determination took root within you. You would weather this storm of separation, you would support Suguru from afar, and you would eagerly await the day when you could be reunited once more. For now, all you could do was hold onto the love you shared, trusting in its power to bridge the distance and keep your hearts connected, no matter where life may lead.

One thing that particularly concerned you was his aversion to the taste of cursed energy. Whenever he mentioned it, a pang of anxiety would grip your heart, knowing that he was enduring something unpleasant just to fulfill his duty as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Despite the distance between you, Suguru made sure to keep you updated on his well-being. He would send you messages whenever he had a free moment, sharing snippets of his day and letting you know that he was okay. And on his rare free days, you would make it a point to meet up with him, cherishing every precious moment you had together.

Your dates were a welcome respite from the challenges of long-distance, a chance for you to reconnect and strengthen your bond despite the miles that separated you. Whether it was a leisurely stroll through the park, a cozy dinner at your favorite restaurant, or simply spending quality time together at home, every moment with Suguru was a treasure to be cherished.

And though the distance between you was daunting at times, your love for each other remained steadfast and unwavering. Together, you navigated the ups and downs of long-distance with grace and resilience, knowing that no matter the obstacles you faced, your love would always endure.

As you and Suguru sat across from each other in a cozy café, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance around you, you found yourselves catching up on each other's lives. Suguru had just finished recounting his latest adventures at Jujutsu High, regaling you with tales of intense training sessions and encounters with formidable curses. 

"It sounds like you've been keeping busy," you remarked with a smile, sipping on your latte. "How are things going at the school?"

Suguru nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It's challenging, but I'm managing," he replied, his tone calm and composed. "The training can be rigorous, but I'm learning a lot."

You nodded, though a hint of concern flickered in your eyes. "And what about the jujutsu sorcery? Is it... difficult?"

Suguru's gaze met yours, and for a moment, you thought you detected a shadow of hesitation in his eyes. But then, he offered you a reassuring smile. "It's not easy, but I'm okay," he assured you. "I've got some great teachers and classmates who help me out."

Despite his words, a knot of worry tightened in your chest. You had seen firsthand the toll that dealing with cursed spirits could take on Suguru, and while you trusted in his strength and resilience, you couldn't help but wonder if he was truly alright. 

"I'm glad to hear that you're getting support," you said, reaching across the table to gently place your hand on his. "But if things ever get too tough, if you ever need someone to talk to..."

Suguru's fingers intertwined with yours, his touch warm and reassuring. "Thank you," he said softly, his gaze sincere. "I appreciate that more than you know."

As you sat together in that intimate moment, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across your faces, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With Suguru by your side, you felt a sense of strength and comfort that filled you with unwavering hope for the future. And as you leaned in to share a tender kiss, the worries of the world melted away, leaving only the warmth of your love and the promise of tomorrow.

As the year 2007 progressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss between you and Suguru. It started with small changes—missed calls, delayed responses to messages, and last-minute cancellations of plans. At first, you brushed it off, attributing it to his busy schedule with missions and training at Jujutsu High. He had a duty to that after all. You never questioned him about it.

But as time went on, Suguru's behavior became more pronounced. He became increasingly distant, avoiding your attempts to spend time together and offering vague excuses about being swamped with work. When you did manage to hang out, you couldn't ignore the noticeable shift in his demeanor. He seemed withdrawn, his usually vibrant energy replaced with a palpable sense of exhaustion.

Concern gnawed at your heart as you watched Suguru's health deteriorate before your eyes. "Suguru, are you okay?" you asked gently one evening, unable to ignore the worry that twisted in your gut.

He waved off your concern with a forced smile. "I'm fine, just tired from all the missions," he replied, his voice strained. "Don't worry about me."

But you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was troubling him. "Suguru, please," you insisted, reaching out to touch his arm. "You don't seem okay. Talk to me."

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you saw a flash of frustration in his eyes. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, pulling away from your touch. "You don't need to keep asking."

The tension between you simmered beneath the surface, unresolved and heavy with unspoken words. "I just want to help," you murmured, your voice tinged with hurt. "But I can't do that if you won't let me in."

Suguru's jaw tensed, his gaze hardening. "I don't need your help," he retorted, his tone sharp with irritation. "I can handle things on my own."

The words stung like a knife to your heart, leaving you reeling with a sense of rejection. "But I care about you, Suguru," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I can't just stand by and watch you suffer."

A heavy silence settled between you, thick with unresolved tension and unspoken fears. In that moment, you realized that despite your love for Suguru, you were powerless to ease his pain if he refused to let you in. And as the weight of his distance pressed down upon you like a suffocating blanket, you couldn't help but wonder if your relationship could weather this storm—or if it was destined to crumble beneath the weight of unspoken truths and untold secrets.

The air crackled with tension as Suguru's conflicted emotions waged war within him. He wanted to reach out, to grasp onto your comforting presence, but the weight of his burdens held him back like chains around his heart. Each moment spent in your company only served to amplify his guilt and shame, reminders of the facade he was desperately trying to maintain.

"I'm sorry," Suguru murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes cast downward in shame. "I just... I can't do this anymore."

Your heart clenched at his words, aching with the pain of impending loss. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice trembling with fear.

Suguru shook his head, unable to meet your gaze. "I can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not," he admitted, his words heavy with resignation. "I need to figure things out on my own."

The finality of his words hung in the air like a heavy shroud, suffocating any hope of reconciliation. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the sudden unraveling of your relationship, the dreams you had woven together now torn asunder by the cruel hand of fate.

"I understand," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion, though the pain of acceptance felt like a dagger to your heart. "I just wish... I wish things could have been different."

Suguru's shoulders slumped in defeat, his own anguish mirrored in the depths of his gaze. "So do I." he admitted, his voice thick with unshed tears. "But sometimes... sometimes it's better to let go than to hold on to something that's already broken. I can’t hurt you more than I already have.”

Your heart clenched at his words, each syllable a dagger piercing through the fragile remnants of your shattered dreams. The weight of his pain, his self-imposed exile, bore down upon you with suffocating force, leaving you gasping for breath in the wake of his confession.

"Suguru, please..." you pleaded, your voice cracking with emotion, reaching out for him as if to bridge the ever-widening chasm between you. "Don't shut me out. We can work through this together."

But Suguru's resolve remained steadfast, his gaze haunted by the ghosts of his past and the specter of his uncertain future. "I can't," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the tumult of your emotions. "I need to do this alone."

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched him turn away, his silhouette fading into the darkness with each step. The ache of his absence echoed in the hollow chambers of your heart, a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As the weight of his absence settled over you like a heavy blanket, you couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end. If the love you had once shared was destined to fade into nothingness, swallowed whole by the vast expanse of time and distance.

But even as you grappled with the pain of separation, a flicker of hope danced in the recesses of your soul. Perhaps, in letting go, you would find the strength to heal, to move forward, to forge a new path untethered by the chains of the past.

Heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, you whispered.

The sound of silent farewells shuddered in the cold air.

You try to live through the ashes of your broken dreams.

But you would be fine, you knew you would be one day.

Suguru loved you enough to bear the weight of the world.

THINGS CHANGED OVER NINE YEARS.  You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd never truly move on from Suguru. His presence lingered in the recesses of your mind, a constant reminder of what once was and what could have been. But life was relentless in its forward march, indifferent to your heartache and longing. You knew you had to move on, to carve out a path for yourself in a world that would keep spinning regardless of your pain.

In the days and weeks that followed, tears became a familiar companion, each drop a silent tribute to the love you had lost. But with time, you found solace in the gentle rhythm of life's ebb and flow. You learned to navigate the world with a newfound resilience, allowing the pain of your past to shape you into someone stronger, someone more resilient than you ever thought possible.

As the days turned into months and the months into years, you grew around the grief in your heart, like a vine winding its way around a sturdy tree. You became a new person—a version of yourself that your past self would hardly recognize. You embraced new experiences, pursued your passions with unwavering determination, and forged connections with those who filled your life with light and warmth.

And though Suguru would always hold a special place in your heart, you came to understand that moving on didn't mean forgetting or erasing the past. It meant honoring the memories you shared while making space for new beginnings, new adventures, and new love to bloom.

As you navigated the bustling streets of Tokyo, the weight of your responsibilities pressed heavily upon your shoulders. The city buzzed with activity, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions churning within you. In the nine years since parting ways with Suguru, life had taken unexpected turns, leading you down paths you never imagined traversing.

Becoming a mother had been the greatest joy amidst the tumultuous journey of life. The moment your son entered the world, a surge of indescribable love washed over you, eclipsing the pain of your past and filling your heart with boundless happiness. Holding him in your arms for the first time, you knew that your life would never be the same—that every sacrifice, every struggle, was worth it for the sake of this precious new life. 

You had always wanted a life like this with Suguru. You had always thought that you would end up having a lifetime together, to have children, to have normal lives — to grow old together. When you looked at your son, you thought about the life that had been robbed from you by fate, but also the hope that came with the birth of the most precious thing in your life. Your son was, after all, your pride and joy.

Parenthood brought with it a sense of purpose unlike anything you had experienced before. From sleepless nights to endless diaper changes, every moment spent caring for your son filled you with a sense of fulfillment and contentment you never thought possible. Watching him grow and thrive, witnessing his first steps and hearing his infectious laughter, became the highlights of your days, grounding you in the present and reminding you of the beauty that existed amidst life's chaos.

Despite the challenges of balancing motherhood with your career, you found moments of joy in the simple pleasures of everyday life. From bedtime stories and snuggles to impromptu dance parties in the living room, each day brought new opportunities to cherish the bond you shared with your son, a bond forged in the unbreakable bonds of love and devotion.

And as you raced through the crowded streets of Tokyo, your thoughts drifted to the little boy eagerly awaiting your arrival at school. In his laughter and in his smile, you found solace and strength, a reminder that no matter where life's journey took you, the love of your family would always be the anchor that held you steady amidst the storm.

Today, however, brought with it a new challenge—a decision that would alter the course of your lives once again. Your husband, a foreigner whose stint in Japan was coming to an end, had been called back to Europe. After much deliberation, you both had decided to accompany him, embarking on a new adventure in a foreign land.

As you hurried to pick up your child from school, a sense of urgency pulsed through your veins. His teacher had informed you that he would be finishing up his language lessons, buying you some much-needed time to make it there before his class ended.

Breathless and slightly disheveled, you finally arrived at the school, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the bustling courtyard for any sign of your son. And then, amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces, you saw him—Geto Suguru, standing there in a traditional geto-kesa, engaged in conversation with one of the middle school teachers. 

Your pulse quickened at the sight of him, a flood of memories washing over you like a tidal wave. It had been so long since you had last seen each other, and yet, in that moment, it felt as though no time had passed at all. Quiet eyes feasting upon him, relearning him after a decade of him disappearing from your world. 

As you approached him, your heart hammered in your chest, uncertainty and longing warring within you. Would he even remember you after all these years? And more importantly, did you still hold a place in his heart as he did in yours?

Summoning every ounce of courage you possessed, you called out his name, the sound barely audible amidst the cacophony of voices around you. And then, as he turned to face you, his expression a mixture of surprise and recognition, you knew that some things truly never change.

As Suguru turned to face you, his eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you stood before each other, the weight of the years that had passed between you palpable in the air. The teacher seemed a bit flustered, but you smiled at them and bowed with an apology. They seemed to understand, they bowed and left.

"Suguru," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, the name feeling both foreign and achingly familiar on your lips. “Hi.”

Recognition dawned in his eyes as he studied your face, his expression softening with a hint of nostalgia. "It’s you." he replied, his voice a quiet murmur that seemed to echo with the weight of unspoken memories.

He took in the image of you, one that has matured, has grown, has changed over the course of a decade. Yet there was something in his eyes, a conflict, when he looked at you. You didn’t understand why, you didn’t understand where it came from but you didn’t say anything. You just let this moment stay as it was. You let your eyes quietly take in how he has grown in these years. And you know, he was doing the same with you.

The years melted away in an instant as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze, the past and present converging in a bittersweet collision of emotions. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if you were once again the young souls who had shared secrets beneath the cherry blossom tree, bound together by an invisible thread that transcended the passage of time.

"It's been a long time," he murmured, his warm voice neutral as he looked at you. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. "Too long." you agreed softly, the ache of longing and regret threading through your words. “I just….this is a surprise.”

“I should say that.” He whispers back to you. “How have you been?”

“Good,” You smiled at him, fidgeting with your gloved hands. “I’ve just been busy with life.”

Suguru's gaze softened as he listened to your words, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm glad to hear that," he replied, his voice warm with sincerity. "Life has a way of keeping us on our toes, doesn't it?"

You nodded, a wistful expression crossing your features. "It certainly does," you agreed softly, the weight of the years weighing heavily on your shoulders. "But enough about me. How about you? How have you been?"

A flicker of emotion crossed Suguru's face, his expression momentarily guarded before he offered you a small, reassuring smile. "I've been... managing," he replied carefully, his words laced with a hint of uncertainty. “It’s been a lot.”

“I’m….I’m glad that you’re managing.” You mumbled back to him, unsure of what to say. “It’s rough to be an adult now.”

You studied his face, noting the subtle tension in his features and the guarded look in his eyes. It was clear that there was more to his story than he was letting on, but you didn't press him further. Instead, you offered him a gentle smile, hoping to convey your support and understanding without words.

"Well, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here," you said softly, the sincerity in your voice unmistakable. "No matter what, you'll always have a friend in me."

Suguru's smile widened at your words, a flicker of gratitude shining in his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "That means more to me than you know."

Silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. In that moment, you both stood on the precipice of something uncertain, the weight of your shared history hanging between you like a fragile thread.

As Suguru's gaze shifted towards you, his brows furrowed in confusion, a question lingering on his lips. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

Before you could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the hall, drawing your attention away from Suguru. You turned just in time to see your son rushing towards you, his arms outstretched in excitement. With a laugh bubbling up from deep within you, you opened your arms wide, ready to catch him in a warm embrace.

As your son leaped into your arms, his laughter filling the air, you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy and warmth wash over you. Holding him close, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, relishing in the simple pleasure of being reunited with the one who brought so much light into your life.

In the midst of the joyful reunion, you failed to notice the subtle shift in Suguru's demeanor. His gaze lingered on you and your son, his expression clouded with a mixture of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and perhaps even a hint of resentment.

As you finally turned back to face Suguru, his eyes met yours, his expression guarded and unreadable. It was clear that something had shifted between you, a rift forming between the two of you that seemed impossible to bridge. And in that moment, you couldn't help but wonder if perhaps some wounds were too deep to heal, no matter how much time had passed.

As the weight of Suguru's gaze bore down on you, a pang of sadness tugged at your heart. You had hoped that this unexpected reunion would bring a sense of closure, a chance to reconnect and perhaps even rebuild what had been lost between you. But now, as you stood before him, the distance between you felt insurmountable.

Summoning a smile that felt forced, you attempted to break the tension that hung heavy in the air. "This is my son," you explained, gesturing towards the young boy in your arms. "His name is Shouma.”

Suguru's eyes softened slightly at the introduction, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. For a moment, he looks at your son and sees nothing but you. He was you when you were younger. You when he first felt what joy, what life looks like in all its glory.

His eyes scan lower as the boy played with his nametag. Purple orbs widened slightly as he read the letters of the boy's name. 憧 for longing. 真 for genuine. He meets your gaze for a moment. It was the moment he knew. You pursed your lips into a flat line as you lowered your gaze, busying yourself with fixing your son's shoelaces.

Shouma.

Genuine.

Longing.

"He's... he's beautiful," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Looks exactly like you.”

“That’s what my husband said.” You responded, a tight smile on your lips as you said those words. You could see something in his face shift. Despite the warmth in his words, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. There was something about the way Suguru looked at you and your son—a mixture of longing and regret—that left you feeling unsettled. “He is my mini-me.”

“He really is.”

When the bell sounded, the steps of children and the ringing of their voices echoed across the rooms and into the halls. It was then two children, twin girls, excitedly rushed when they saw Suguru standing near you. The two girls, Mimiko and Nanako, whose names were written in their name-tags, emerged from their classroom happily. You watched them embrace Suguru as they spoke and chattered. You take your son’s hand, who looks at the older girls in front of him.  

You couldn't help but notice the apprehensive mistrust in their gaze as they glanced at you and your son. Their eyes held a mixture of curiosity and wariness, as though unsure of what to make of the unexpected encounter. They’d never seen you in their entire lives before, you were a stranger. They didn’t know you. They clung closer to Suguru, as though to instinctively protect him. 

Suguru, sensing the tension, stepped forward to bridge the gap between his daughters and your little family. With a gentle smile, he introduced you and your son, his voice warm yet tinged with a hint of unease. "Mimiko, Nanako, this is an old friend of mine and her son," he explained, his gaze flickering between you and his daughters. “These two angels are my daughters.” 

As the introductions were made, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness wash over you. They seem to let their guard down slightly, as you watch them cling less towards Suguru and greet you cordially, almost shyly. You smiled at them. They seem to be polite girls. Suguru had raised them well, with all the love in the world. 

You were glad that Suguru had managed to build a family, a life beyond what you had—one that seemed to have escaped the grief, pain, and misery that had engulfed him when you last saw each other. Even if it wasn’t with you. But as you looked into each other's eyes, you saw the same mourning glint reflected in his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the 'what if' that would forever linger in the shadows of your hearts.

The presence of Mimiko and Nanako, standing by Suguru's side, served as a bittersweet reminder of the life you were supposed to have together. A life where you imagined waking up beside him, raising children together, sharing dreams and burdens. But that future had slipped through your fingers like sand, and now you stood on separate shores, each tethered to a different destiny.

You knew you would never leave your husband. He had been your anchor, your partner through the ups and downs, the father of your cherished son. Your life with him was built on love and commitment, and you were grateful for the family you had. Yet, the ache of what might have been remained, a quiet sorrow that echoed in the moments of stillness and reflection.

Suguru’s eyes, filled with a mix of pride and melancholy, told you he felt the same. He too mourned the lost possibilities, the dreams that had withered in the wake of your separation. The shared sorrow created a bond, a silent understanding that no amount of time could erase.

Meeting Suguru's gaze, you saw the turmoil reflected in his eyes, mirroring the conflicting emotions swirling within your own heart. It was as though the ghosts of your past lives were living through your regrets, haunting you with the memories of what could have been.

"I’m happy for you, Suguru," you said softly, your voice tinged with genuine warmth. "You've built something beautiful."

He nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a bittersweet smile. "And you too. Your son... he's wonderful."

Before either of you could say more, your son tugged at your hand, his innocent eyes wide with curiosity. "Mom, who are they?" he asked, glancing at Suguru and his daughters.

You crouched down to your son's level, smoothing his hair affectionately. "This is Suguru, mama’s old friend. And these are his daughters, Mimiko and Nanako."

Your son smiled shyly at the girls, and they responded with slow, but tentative smiles of their own. The innocence of the children contrasted sharply with the complex emotions swirling between you and Suguru, a poignant reminder of the simplicity and purity of childhood. Somehow, reminisce about how you and Suguru met. 

“You raised them well, Suguru.” You smiled at him. “They got your kindness too.”

“And your son, he’s everything that’s you.” He retorts back, a quiet smile on his lips. 

As the conversation continued, you felt a mix of sadness and acceptance. Life had moved on, taking you down different paths, but the connection you once shared with Suguru remained, however muted by time and circumstance. You would always mourn the life that could have been, but you knew that the choices you made had led you to where you were meant to be.

Suguru’s voice broke through your reverie. "Take care of yourself, and your family," he said, his tone carrying the weight of unspoken words.

"You too, Suguru," you replied, your heart heavy yet resolute. “Thank you for letting me….relive a past life.”

He took a deep breath and smiled for a bit. “You too. Thank you.”

But as the sounds of the bustling city called to you, you knew that some things were better left unsaid.Some things were best left as they were — past lives. You took your son’s hand and kissed the top of his head. You looked at Suguru and nodded.  With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, you offered him a small, bittersweet smile. 

"It's good to see you, Suguru," you said, the words laced with a quiet ache.

His gaze softened, a flicker of regret dancing in the depths of his eyes.  "You too," he replied softly, his voice barely above a softened whisper.

It wasn’t lost on Suguru, the irony of you being the last to walk away.

As he lay dying, his quiet eyes shifting to the ground of his past life,

He smiles, thinking about how good it was to see you one last time.

He hopes in the next life, you would live a long happy life together.

If the gods were kind, they'd let you love each other once again.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Bucky was just exiting the debrief room after returning from a mission with Sam when he spotted Tony and Steve talking to each other. They were both looking at what Bucky recalls is an ipad, swiping images across the screen. Steve nodded along as Tony rattled on. Tony glances up when he enters the room and waves him over.

" First, I'm still going to do what I want. But what do you think of Peter getting his own place?"

Bucky blinks, looks at Steve, and then back at Tony.

" He likes living with May for the most part. He already has an apartment you set up for him in the tower, as well as a room at the compound and your lake house. Plus, if he isn't there, he visits Ned"

Steve nods and points to the ipad,

" and he seems like a fella who wouldn't want you to buy him a duplex. In Queens or not."

" He is in college. He needs privacy, especially with the Spideymonkey gig he still insisted on doing."

Steve and Bucky move to look at each other. They know what Tony isn't saying. That Peter needs a place he could bring someone back to.

" Just talk to the guy and see if he wants that."

Steve squints for a moment at Bucky when he says that.

**RING RIIINNNNGGGG RIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGG**

Bucky pulls his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen. It's Peter calling.

Tony, being Tony, looks over and notices as well who is calling. It doesn't even pass through his mind why Peter would be calling Bucky.

" Oh hey, let me talk to him," states Tony and he reaches for the phone.

Bucky was already in the process of answering and was moving the phone out of reach. In those few moments, the phone accidentally went to speaker mode.

" No hey its my phone."

" Just let me see it I paid for it"

Bucky ends up clenching the phone too hard in his metal hand and ends up muting the phone, but the speaker is still on.

Peter's voice comes through.

" Hello? That's some weird voice-mail message you got there. I'll help you set up a good one later. Anyway, you're probably in your debrief still. " heavy sigh could be heard, and the faint breeze of Peter probably swinging on his webs.

" I'm just now done with patrol. I've had a shit day of finals, and I smell like a dumpster cause I fell into a dumpster after I got stabbed. "

There was a pause before he quickly said," but don't worry, it's already healed, but yeah shitty night. I haven't slept since yesterday. So I'm gonna be exhausted when you get in. But I ordered some chinese for us, swinging to pick it up now, but it should still be warm by the time you get home. I apologize in advance if I have already passed out in bed when you get in. But I promise you amazing welcome back home morning sex. And I'll fix those waffles you like. But remember we are going to May's later for Passover since we couldn't yesterday. On Friday, we were invited over to the XMansion to celebrate there unless something else doesn't come up. But yeah, I'm rambling."

He sighs a little." I missed you. I'll see you at home in a bit. Love you, " you hear some rustling." Hey Miss Jenny, " "I got you extra egg rolls. " " Aweso-" the phone hangs up.

Everyone is staring down at the phone before Steve and Tony turn to look at Bucky.

Tony had no clue when Peter and Bucky would have gotten together and is now trying to piece together instances that should have stood out.

Steve, though, he was starting the suspect for a while now. The few times he visited Bucky's apartment, he noticed differences. The apartment seemed lived in compared to before. House plants, a video game console, a vast collection of movies that showed up on bookcases along with more photos and just more personal touches.

"Well. Looks like I need to get home. Don't call me"

Bucky tucks the broken phone back in his pocket before he quickly leaves.

Steve eyes Tony warily.

" But... no. When did the terminator get with my kid?"

"He isn't a kid anymore he is 22"

" Zip it, capsicle! "

[simp4wom3n]

The Quiet One PtIV

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader

Summary: Following the tragic events in the apartment, Tara seeks Y/n's forgiveness when they eventually wake up and must navigate trying to catch Ghostface before he manages to attack them again. ~ Word Count: 7.154k ~ Warnings: descriptions of blood, wounds, and scars, swearing, hella bad grief

A/N: HI!!! pt iv ladies and gentlemen is HERE! In the process of writing this I quite literally had a dream about the plot so idk what that says about it but hey I hope you guys enjoy it - it's a bit less angsty than the last one but pt v will be the final part (plus maybe a pt vi as a nice little epilogue idk yet) anyways ENJOY <3

Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4

The sight of your body lying still, helpless on a cold hospital bed, tormented Tara as she sat cautiously by your side, the slight movement of your chest and the distant steady beeps of your pulse doing little to settle her racing thoughts.

Her tormented eyes remained focused on the large white bandage that covered most of the left side of your face, the haunting image of your bloodied body as she ran towards you flashing before her every time she dared to close her eyes.

Yes, the doctors managed to save you. To close your wound and stop your bleeding. Yet your sight had managed to slip away from you.

A new scar would now run its course up the length of your face. Your previous y/e/c eye would now turn an unsettling white, the colour and sight draining away whilst you slept peacefully unaware.

(What I'm imagining the scar looks like)

Tara's mind was plagued with images of what might've happened to you, the trauma you had gone through whilst she uselessly attempted to knock your front door down, furious at Chad for pulling her away from you. She gnawed on her bottom lip as she fidgeted in her seat, drowning in guilt.

The night of the party was a day she would likely never forget, not for the murder of her two classmates, but for the fight she had with you, or more accurately, for when she unjustly blamed you for everything going wrong in her life. She blamed you for being too overprotective, for being too clingy.

For loving her.

She had blamed one of the few people who knew the truth about her past and loved her for it. She had known the moment her words left her mouth that you were heartbroken, tears instantly welling in your eyes as your lips trembled uncontrollably.

When you ran away from her, her own heart shattered. She hadn't seen you that upset since the night at the hospital, a night you refuse to talk about to this day. Everyone you had ever loved, whether by choice or not, had abandoned you. Everyone except her.

And she asked you to let her go.

She scoffed at her own stupidity. Sure, she was distraught when she eventually followed you back to the apartment, yet instead of apologising and begging for your forgiveness, she hid in your bedroom, where she hoped no one would talk to her.

And oh, was she wrong.

She ran straight to your bedroom as soon as she got home, a small part of her hoping you were waiting for her at the end of your shared bed. Your face would light up with your infectious giddy smile before you would pull her into a warm embrace and cover her face in kisses.

Sadly, her hopes were shattered when she entered the dark room, flicking on the lights only to find you weren't there. She visibly deflated as she walked towards the dresser, picking up her inhaler and inhaling it deeply to calm her erratic breathing.

She closes her eyes as she exhales, the weight in her chest not getting any lighter. A few soft knocks on the door cause her to open her eyes and slowly glance in their direction. "You doing ok?" asks Quinn, who was standing in the doorway, a sad smile on her face. "H-how do you-" "I saw y/n come in... she's hiding in Sam's room which I figured meant you guys fought or something." She spoke softly as she walked further into the room, taking a careful seat on the edge of the bed.

"Right..." Tara exhaled, taking a seat next to Quinn as she let her face fall into her hands with a groan. "I fucked up" was all that came out of her mouth as Quinn looked at her sympathetically. "Well, if you really did 'fuck up', there's only one thing you can do." Tara looked at Quinn expectantly. "Go apologise!" Tara groaned at the thought. "She doesn't want to talk to me." "You don't know that."

A moment of silence passed before Quinn moved to stand up, causing Tara to look up and notice Chad standing in the doorway. "Just talk to her, ok?" Quinn spoke as she moved to leave the room, giving Tara one last smile before letting Chad close the door behind her. Tara watched as he placed a bottle of pills on the dresser before taking a seat next to her.

She really wasn't in the mood to talk anymore, her brain already working overtime to try and comprehend everything that had gone on within the past hour, plus the fact that she was definitely still tipsy.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as his shoulder rubbed against hers in a way that only made her cringe. "Why does everybody keep asking me that?" she responded sourly, her eyes focused on her hands that fidget in her lap. "Because we care about you.". At his cheesy words, Tara finally lifts her head to look at him, only to realise how close Chad really is.

As he turned his head to look directly into her eyes, Tara could feel his breath fanning across her face. She looked at him, frozen in confusion. She watched as his eyes glanced towards her lips before he leaned in closer.

Before she could pull away, the bedroom door flew open, allowing her to look away from him. Quinn stands in the doorway, her mouth falling open as she stares in shock.

"Did I cockblock you?"

Her question makes Tara's eyes widen, her jaw slack as she glares at Quinn in disbelief. "Wait! Did you break up with y/n?! I thought you guys just fought or...". Tara reeled in astonishment and her words. "W-What are you talking about?"

Chad's constant denial went unheard by the girl as she tried to comprehend what was happening, her chest growing so tight it became hard for her to breathe. "No, no, of course we didn't.", she stuttered. At this point, Chad was making his escape, standing up abruptly and pushing past Quinn and into the hallway, where his face went from one of irritation to guilt.

The sound of rapid footsteps broke Tara out of her trance as she shot to her feet. She bolted out her bedroom door just fast enough to catch your retreating figure, her face dropping at the realisation that you heard the conversation.

She was once again frozen to her spot, her face growing ashen as she watched in numb horror as you, once again, ran away from her.

"What have I done."

A hoarse cough echoed through the bleak room as Tara returned to reality, her eyes blinking rapidly as they turned towards your previously unmoving figure. You were awake. "Oh my god, y/n?!" She shot out of her chair and immediately rushed to your side.

Her hand found yours as she watched your face contort in discomfort, your single bloodshot eye eventually finding hers. "Hey." She spoke softly, a smile of relief appearing on her lips. "Hi." you groan drearily, reaching your hand up to wipe the exhaustion out of your eyes.

As your hand comes into contact with your face, your body jolts with pain as you whimper in surprise. "Careful!" Tara's spare hand carefully grabs yours, pulling it away from your fresh injury as your open eye meets hers in fear. "It's ok, y/n, it's ok.".

You grunt lowly in pain as you move to sit up, Tara helping you as she places pillows behind your back for you to fall back on. Once you were settled, her hand still in yours as she tenderly brushed over your knuckles, you turned your head towards her with tears falling from your eye.

"What happened?" you question in a broken whisper, hot tears trickling down your cheek. She wipes your cheek dry with her soft hand and stares at you sadly, a ghost of a smile on her face. "You'll be fine. You just... you won't be able to see with that eye." She speaks gently, gesturing subtly towards your bandage-covered eye.

You sniffle softly as you turn your face away from her with a subtle nod, a distant expression on your face as you let the news settle in. "You'll have a scar... but other than that, you're perfectly fine, and everything will be ok... I promise.".

Her eyebrows furrow slightly at the sound of your laughter. Worried that she had offended you, she proceeded to apologise, but you interrupted her, joking, "If only I had my pirate costume.". You looked back at her with a cheeky smile creeping onto your lips, your eye carrying a mischievous glint as she couldn't help but chuckle.

You would be lying to yourself if you tried to deny that you were incredibly high, the high dose of painkillers doing their job a little too well. "What? Too soon?". Tara tried her best to contain her laughter with her hand, finally breaking as your laughter once again filled her ears.

"You're really fucking high, aren't you?" she eventually asks through her easing laughter. "Mmm, maybe." you respond with a delirious grin, winking at your girlfriend before letting your head fall back onto your pillows.

Tara's previously joyful expression starts to fade as she returns to the reality of the situation. She grabs a chair from behind her and sits next to you, pulling your hand into a comforting hold before bringing it to her lips and kissing your knuckles gently.

As you tilt your head towards her, your gaze meets hers again. A few hazy memories began to flash through your head, the most devastating of which was the sight of Anika's corpse lying cold and bloody at the foot of the few-storey drop you had climbed across. Regardless, seeing your girlfriend never fails to put your mind at ease.

"I should've been there." She spoke softly, regret evident in her tone. Your forehead wrinkles slightly as you hear her words. Tara had always been confident, so seeing her riddled with remorse was unusual for you. Even so, your cheeks did warm slightly at the idea of her caring so deeply about you.

You squeeze her hand with yours as you give her a thankful smile. "You were safe... that's all I care about.". You weren't lying. You would happily have your good eye sliced if it meant she was safe - she was truly all that you cared about anymore. "I don't deserve you.", Tara whispered dejectedly, your words being no help in alleviating her guilt as her saddened gaze fell to the floor.

As much as you hated to admit it, there was a small voice in the back of your mind that agreed with her. You were never the confident one in the relationship, but at this moment in time, both of you knew that you didn't deserve any of what you had experienced throughout the past few days.

The girl had an eternal hold on you. Seeing her upset would always pull on your heartstrings no matter what you did. And at the end of the day, there was nothing you wouldn't do for the girl, and there was nothing Tara could do that would stop you from loving her, except maybe if she were Ghostface, but even then, you couldn't promise anything.

"Come here." You tug her hand gently, shifting yourself over on the bed so her small form can fit next to you. Her surprised gaze meets yours before she climbs onto the bed hesitantly, slipping her legs under the thin hospital blanket before snuggling up to you. She gently lays her head on your shoulder, carefully avoiding accidentally knocking your healing scar.

You feel her body melt into yours as you wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to you as you let out a satisfied sigh at the contact. Your hand gently rubs circles on her arm as the two of you sit momentarily in each other's presence, enjoying the silence of the hospital room filled with nothing but the soothing sound of your heartbeat.

"There's no one else I'd rather love." Despite your bandages, you whispered into her hair and placed a small kiss amongst her dark hair. She sits up, turning her head to look you in the eye as her soft eyes meet yours. You observe her swallow harshly as she purses her lips, debating whether or not to tell you something.

"Gale found where the masks are coming from.". Your eye widened slightly at the news, the previously steady sound of your heartbeat from the monitor speeding up. "Ok... and that's a good thing, right?" "Y-yeh... but now that you're awake, I've got to investigate it with the others."

Now you understand why she was hesitant.

"Ok. Well, I'm coming with you.". Tara's previously apologetic eyes widen as she watches you pull the blanket off of yourself before swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "W-wait! No, you have to stay here." You turn your head towards her with your eyebrow raised, shooting her an unspoken 'seriously?' before sighing.

"Last time I didn't go with you, you were attacked... and it's not that I don't trust you, I-... I'm going, Tara. End of discussion.". She immediately swallowed down her rebuttal; the assertion in your voice was unlike any she had heard from you before.

You turned your attention back to getting out of the confined space that was this random New York hospital, the painkillers that still ran through your system hitting you once again as you stood up, your head spinning momentarily.

Noticing your slight wobble, Tara snaps out of her shocked haze and rushes to your side, carefully grabbing ahold of your arm in support as she leads you to the bathroom so you can change out of your paper-thin hospital gown.

"I'll get the nurse," she speaks swiftly as she makes sure you're ok before running out of the room.

Surprisingly, you were discharged from the hospital effortlessly, with nothing but a smaller bandage and a prescription for more painkillers in your possession as you walked out the doors. When you were finally reunited with the others, Sam and Mindy pulled you into bone-crushing hugs, having not seen you since you passed out.

"Thank god you're ok!" Sam said as she pulled away with a relieved smile. You returned the smile before looking over her shoulder, your gaze landing on a large Ghostface mural painted on one of the walls that lined the alleyway that apparently led to Ghostface's 'base'.

"Apparently, they used fake names to rent this place," Gale said as she went past you, Kirby close behind her, arguing about how she had managed to find the place. Your feet remained in place, your gaze fixed on the imposing tribute that towered over you.

"Y/n?" Your attention was drawn to your girlfriend, who was staring back at you expectantly as the rest of the party entered the building further ahead of her. "Coming, sorry.". Tara looked at you amusedly as you walked towards her as quickly as your slightly dazed state allowed.

As Gale pulled open the bulky metal doors and led you into the building, you were confronted with a dark and dusty stairway leading up to some type of cage. "Well, isn't this lovely." You joked, hesitantly following the others up the decrepit steps behind Tara, your collective slow and heavy breaths reverberating around the dark unknown beyond the rusted bars.

The loud beep and rattle of the old cell-like door being swung open rings in your ears as you slowly walk further into the building, purposely staying close to Tara's side. "What is this place? What's with all the security?" Sam asked as Gale moved towards a power board, flicking a switch that lit up the entire vast space, the sudden brightness stinging your fragile eye.

As your sight adjusts and scans the area around you, your impaired gaze travels across a giant, worn-white screen dangling from the crumbling ceiling. Your and Tara's like-mindedness becomes apparent, with the two of you appearing to reach the same conclusion after a brief silence. "It's a movie theatre."

"It's not just a theatre. It's a shrine."

The dingy screen slowly ascends, revealing a scene straight out of your nightmares. Nine Ghostfaces lined the stage, a horrifying cloning of a costume you constantly begged to never see again. With a shiver running its course through your body, you took cautious steps forward, dragging your feet underneath you before you came to a halt.

Instead of the rows of chairs you and Tara had become accustomed to in a movie theatre throughout your frequent visits, displays and artifacts from past massacres covered the floor, causing the colour to drain from your face.

As you walked further into the shrine, your eyes examining each and every item, admittedly fascinated by it all, Tara followed and watched you from a small distance. She watched as your posture went rigid as your gaze landed on a particular glass case.

A section entirely dedicated to Dewey.

Your eye brimmed with tears as you scanned over the items. Photos of the man you once trusted and loved stared back at you. The same man who was the sole reason you had made it to this very moment. Your tears finally fell as your focus shifted to a drawing that was displayed front and centre.

The cautious footsteps approaching you from behind didn't faze you as your blurry vision drank in the gruesome illustration of Dewey's corpse, an image that had remained up to your imagination until now.

Until now, you had avoided thinking about anything to do with that night. Whenever his name was mentioned, you immediately changed the subject, refusing to give your mind the freedom to relive and picture what happened.

You were constantly trying to distract yourself, desperate to move on with your life as if nothing ever happened.

Someone's gentle touch on your arm startled you, your clouded vision finally leaving the memorial and landing on your worried girlfriend. Her soft gaze met yours as her thumb traced circles on your exposed skin, sending a warmer shiver down your spine.

She briefly glanced over her shoulder before she slid her hand into yours, gently pulling you away from the collection and into a separate room. An abandoned confectionary stand stood at one end of the room, the wall opposite it decorated with posters from all the previous stab movies.

Tara stops you in the middle of the room, finally turning around to look at you, her eyes filled with guilt. Your heart beats faster in your chest as she remains silent, her tongue nervously running along her dry lips as she gathers the strength to speak.

"I was wrong." she starts, your eye slightly widening in surprise - you were expecting something much worse than an apology. You could feel her hand sweating in yours, her nerves growing glaringly obvious.

"I took all my anger out on you, and I'm so, so sorry, y/n.". Your gaze softened as you watched her small form shake with nerves, her bottom lip beginning to tremble as she took a steadying breath.

"I just want to be a normal person again... I don't want to be a part of this... I don't want you to be a part of this.". You quickly realised where she was going with this. Much like Sam, she felt incredible guilt over pulling you and all the others into the 'franchise', both of the girls blaming themselves for everything your group had gone through over the past year.

No matter many times you had told her it wasn't her fault, that she shouldn't be blaming herself for the actions of film-obsessed psychos, she never listened.

"Everything shitty that has happened to you has been my fault. Mine!... If it weren't for me being a stupid fucking legacy and dragging you into this, you would be happy, living safely in Woodsboro.". Her words were sharp, yet her anger was purely directed at herself. She knew, whether you would admit it or not, that your life would have been better without her. No scars, no trauma, no Ghostface.

"For fuck sake, you'd still be able to see from both your eyes!". You gently bit your bottom lip as you averted your gaze away from your crying girlfriend. Did she have a point? Sure.

You wouldn't be here if you had never talked to her or fallen head over heels for her. That was a fact. You would live alone in your old filthy trailer while your parents' location remained unknown, wasting the rest of your days working as a newspaper delivery kid on your rusted bike. Ghostface would still exist, but he wouldn't touch you.

You would be living peacefully.

Happily though?

Living in Woodsboro, a town known for psychotic murderers who dressed up in Halloween costumes, there was absolutely nothing there that filled you with an ounce of happiness.

Until you met Tara.

If you had learnt anything over the past several months, Tara was your happiness - as cheesy as that was to say. So, while you could be back in your cramped trailer drowning in debt with two eyes and no PTSD, you would unquestionably choose to be standing here with Tara in New York with half your vision.

That said, you return your gaze to the girl in front of you, her face painted red as tears creep down her delicate cheeks as you step closer. You give her a thankful smile before slipping your hands around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm hug. You bury your face gently into her shoulder, inhaling her scent as she wraps her arms tightly around your waist.

Despite standing in a building filled with Ghostface memorabilia, you had never felt safer as you closed your eye and drank in her warm presence. The two of you swayed gently, breathing in sync as you melted into each other.

Your bliss is broken when the door from the shrine is swung open, causing the two of your heads to snap towards the sound. Detective Bailey, Gale, and Sam walk through the door, their faces all painted with determination as they approach the two of you.

"I think I might have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep."

Walking through a park in the middle of the day wasn't what you had first imagined when you were told about their plan to capture Ghostface, yet here you were. The plan was simple.

Step 1: You, Tara, and Sam would walk around the park nonchalantly and await a call from Ghostface.

Step 2: Kirby, who was bunked up with Mindy, Chad, and Ethan in a van parked just outside the park, would track the call and locate its precise location, thus locating Ghostface.

Step 3: Along with Detective Bailey, you take the fucker down.

In theory, it was flawless. In practice... not so much.

As you walked through the busy park, your hand tightly interlocked with Tara's, your head whirled around, glancing over your shoulder every other second. Sam was just in front of the two of you on comms with Kirby and Bailey as they ran through the plan for the hundredth time.

Your stare shifted from stranger to stranger as you walked along the walkway that ran around the enormous pond in the centre of the park, some of whom were dressed in costumes. "Why the fuck are so many people wearing costumes?" you asked Tara, bending down and whispering in her ear. "It's creepy even if we weren't being stalked by a psycho."

Tara's reply was cut short by Sam's phone ringing, her gaze shifting to the two of you as she took her phone from her back pocket. 'Maybe: Richie Kirsch' was displayed on the screen, a disturbingly normal contact photo accompanying it.

Tara inched closer to you as you all stopped in your tracks. Your gaze darted around, checking each and every corner you could as Sam pulled the phone to her ear.

"Your gonna die, you know?" she spoke confidently. "No, you're gonna die, Samantha!." you heard faintly, the familiar chilling voice causing your jaw to clench instinctively. "Choking on your own blood whilst I hack up your sister!" he spoke menacingly.

Your girlfriend's hand was still in yours as you cast an anxious glance down at her. She shifted slightly as she cast a troubled glance up at you, her once delicate grip on your hand growing tighter as the conversation dragged on.

"Unless we find you first." "For a mastermind, you're not very bright. Waiting for me to call, desperately hoping I'm nearby so the police can grab me?". He was mocking you. Sam's face paled as her eyes desperately searched the area around her, still holding onto hope that he was lying, that he was meddling with you in hopes of killing one of you.

"But I'm not nearby. I'm a step ahead... Be seeing you, Samantha.". Your stomachs all collectively dropped as he hung up the phone. Sam stared blankly at the screen for a moment whilst you and Tara stood shoulder to shoulder with matching worried gazes.

"Did you get it?". Sam finally spoke, her determination eventually overcoming her surprise. "Yep, geolocation coming through right now.". You drew comforting circles on the back of Tara's knuckles as you waited in tense silence for Kirby to track the location, your heart stumbling over its own rhythm.

"He's on the upper west side. He's inside an apartment building halfway across the city.". Whilst a slight bit of you was relieved that he wasn't directly behind you, a sickening wave of terror simultaneously erupted in your gut.

"On West 96th?". Your fear worsened at Tara's words. You admittedly knew very little about New York, preferring to stay in or around your apartment and college campus, but if you knew anything, it was who lived on West 96th. "How did you know that?" Kirby's voice rang through the comms.

"Gale."

In the blink of an eye, you are all hectically running towards Bailey's vehicle with him just behind you. You were hot on Tara's tail as your mind struggled to comprehend how Ghostface had outsmarted you. How did he know your plan? How did he know that you had stupidly left Gale unprotected? It made no sense to you.

"Sam, wait! Take a minute!" Bailey called after you, slowing your quick steps as you all turned around angrily. "We don't have a minute!" Sam retaliated, your stare throwing daggers at Bailey, his audacity to try and stop you from leaving and possibly saving Gale causing your body to burn in anger.

"Sam, you have to trust me." you scoffed at his words, looking at him incredulously at his attempt to play the trust card. There were only a few people you trusted, and he certainly wasn't one of them.

You were so preoccupied with your scepticism that you didn't notice Tara leave your side. Tara's shout of your names, accompanied by a blaring car horn, prompts you and Sam to turn around, where you see Tara seated in the driver's seat of Bailey's cop car.

"Get in."

With the sirens blasting whilst Tara weaves in and out of traffic, you are sat in the back seat, drumming your fingers frantically on your knee as you watch other cars zoom past in a blur. Sam's conversation with 911 was drowned out by your irregular heartbeat, your anxiety worsening as you closed in on Gale's apartment.

As your destination drew closer, your gaze briefly met Tara's through the rearview mirror. Your lips quirked upwards slightly as her eyes returned to the road, turning the car onto West 96th. The sun had fallen behind the tall buildings that lined the street, leaving the road drowned in shadows as Tara finally slowed the car to a halt.

As the three of you dashed inside and towards the elevator, the second you stepped inside, your body became rigid as the colour drained from your face. Vivid memories of a night that was all too familiar to what was happening right now flashed before your eyes.

The desperate car drive. The frantic running towards the elevator. The groaning of the elevator as it tediously climbed.

As the thick metal doors closed, a knot constricted your throat, making breathing difficult as your breaths became thin and ragged. You sucked in a ragged deep breath, attempting to conceal your panic from the others.

Your pleading gaze eventually landed on your girlfriend, who stood beside you. Shifting your focus to her empty hand, you wasted no time in grasping it in yours, your grip strong yet gentle as you held onto her desperately.

Tara casts you a worried glance as she notices your tense stance and sweaty palms, hoping your gaze will fall on hers. Your jaw was clamped shut as you kept your sight locked on the elevator door, taking long and deep breaths as you let Tara's touch ground you, the feeling of her hand in yours causing warmth to flood through your previously frozen figure.

As the floor numbers tick by and Gale's penthouse approaches, she gives your hand one last reassuring squeeze before the elevator dings. As the doors open, you let go of each other's hands as you bolt out, turning to your left to be greeted by Ghostface, holding his knife inches away from Gale's face.

"Hey, Fuckface!" Sam shouts, capturing the killer's attention as she picks up a discarded pistol off the ground and fires at them. Missing all her shots in a panic, Sam attempts to chase after them as they run away. The sound of the stair doors slamming shut and retreating footsteps ring out through the now quiet apartment as your focus shifts to a wounded Gale.

"Gale." you spoke in a suffocated whisper, Tara hot on your tail as you ran towards her. As you fell to your knees next to her, your eye grew impossibly wide at the sight of blood pouring rapidly out of her stomach, an all-too-familiar crimson colour staining her clothes.

Placing your shaking hands on top of her stab wound in an attempt to slow the never-ending stream of blood, she groans in pain as her eyes squeeze shut weakly. "Sorry." you whisper breathlessly, a thick haze clouding your rational mind as your thoughts become erratic.

"He didn't get me.". Her pained words hit you like a truck. Sam had made her way onto her knees next to you as Gale's eyes drooped. Sam tried to beckon her awake with broken pleas, tears falling down her cheeks as her heart sunk with guilt.

Her eyelids twitched as Gale managed to open her eyes marginally one last time. The hair on the back of your next stood up straight as her tired gaze met yours, the tiniest of smiles creeping its way onto her lips.

"I'll tell Dewey you said hi."

Your heart stopped as you were hit with a sudden wave of nausea. The pressure you were applying to her torso weakened as your eyes flooded with tears, transfixed with horror as you were unable to look away no matter how much you tried.

You only heard the distant sound of sirens once paramedics rushed into the penthouse. You stood abruptly and backed away from everyone, seemingly terrified of being touched. Your lips trembled violently as your blurred stare never left Gale's unconscious body.

Hot tears cascaded down your face, several of which soaked through the bandage that had managed to withhold the tears from your wounded eye until now. Your body shook violently as you tried to contain your sobs by slapping your hand over your mouth.

The mention of Dewey's name always affected you. You'd always felt the usual burn of tears and constriction of your throat, but this time was different. This time completely broke you.

At the sound of your stifled sobs, Tara's focus shifted from her distraught sister to you. Her heart broke when she saw your defeated figure. As she slowly approached you, It was hard to see past the tears clouding your eyes which remained frozen on Gale.

Your attention was forced to shift when your girlfriend placed herself directly in front of you, forcing you to gaze at her brokenly. She watches as your sobs begin to spill past your wet lips, weakness finally taking over you as you collapse to your knees.

Tara quickly followed you to the floor, wrapping you in her arms as she cradled your head against her chest, your tears soaking through her shirt.

No matter how much you cried or how much Tara tried to comfort you, the ache in your chest would not relent. It burned without end as though to remind you of your loss, the loss you had so desperately avoided thinking about until it now came uncontrollably pouring out of you.

All the pain and grief you had been running away from finally caught up to you, sinking its teeth in deep, wounding you unlike you had ever been wounded before.

Your chest felt hollow. Your mouth was open, loosely hanging in an empty expression of despair as you finally pulled away from your girlfriend's comforting hold. Her eyes scanned your drained expression, a few stray tears escaping and trickling down your reddened face.

Your bandage was completely saturated with tears, making it feel heavy on your face. Tara noticed your discomfort and slowly raised her hands up to your face, lingering around the top of your bandage. "Do you want me to-" "Please."

She swallowed the lump in her throat and gently touched the edge of your bandage. Her icy fingers on your burning face sent shivers down your spine. You began to panic as she began to take your soaked dressing off, not knowing what awaited Tara underneath.

She slowly pulled the wet gauze off of your delicate skin, eventually revealing your healing scar. Her gaze was drawn to a wide, dull pink scar that extended from your jaw to your brow bone, with rich purples and blues running the borders where your remaining stitches could be seen.

Her attention was drawn to the twitching of your left eye, which glistened with the remnants of tears. She watched as you slowly opened your eye for the first time. Despite being warned about what would happen to your eye, she couldn't help but be taken aback when your piercing e/c iris was replaced with a pale white that stretched the full length of your eye.

The faint smile that had been building on your lips collapsed, your head dropping in an attempt to avoid her sight, as you suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. You obviously didn't know what you looked like, but if the dull ache that constantly ran up the length of your face indicated anything, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Y/n, hey. Look at me." Your girlfriend's sweet voice lifted your head back up, the sadness that lingered in your eyes slowly dissolving as she looked at you with a compassionate smile, her cheeks dimpled subtly. "You look beautiful." She spoke softly yet firmly, her hands moving up to cup your face lovingly while avoiding your tender scar.

"You're just saying that." You shook your head gently, her words failing to convince you that you look anything other than hideous. Tara was easily the most gorgeous person you had ever laid eyes on, and the fact that she somehow liked you back in the first place never ceased to amaze you.

Now you were convinced it was just illogical.

"Let me prove it then."

Despite the new scar on your face, whilst it served as a cruel reminder of the night that you were almost taken from her, Tara only sees the person that had thrown their life away for her. The person who had saved her life numerous times, and would willingly do it again even if it meant losing themselves.

She only saw the person she had fallen head over heels in love with.

Tara drew you closer as she wrapped her arms around your neck, gently connecting your lips as hers softened against yours. She was careful not to hurt you with her kiss at first, her lips moving tenderly against yours in a manner that spreads warmth throughout your chest like an open flame.

You felt yourself relax as her fingers traced comforting patterns on the back of your neck as you kissed, letting go of the self-consciousness that had been gnawing at you since she carefully removed your bandage. Tara's lips soothed all of your pain and insecurities like a balm.

It was a long kiss, full of emotions that were too complex to put into words. It was a kiss that told you that Tara was there for you, that she loved you no matter what, and that, unlike everyone else in your life, she would never leave you.

And that was exactly what you needed.

As your lips finally parted from each other, you were both breathless and flushed as you felt a sense of calm wash over you, accompanied by a sense of acceptance that you hadn't felt in a long time.

With her bottom lip giddily caught between her teeth, Tara grabbed your hand and helped you to your feet. Her hand remained in yours as she walked with you to the elevator, where Sam was waiting, with a faint smirk on her lips as she watched your interaction.

"The others are on their way. They're meeting us downstairs."

"I'm scared, you guys." Mindy broke the silence that had settled around the group of you sitting in the policed-filled lobby of Gale's apartment building. In the corner of a small couch you shared with Mindy, you were cuddled up close to Tara, her scent and warmth being the only thing bringing you comfort. When the others arrived, you sank back into the couch, aware that everyone's eyes scrutinised and judged your new, unusual appearance.

"So what do we do now?" It was a good question. Running from Ghostface was always the same, no matter how hard you tried. He would always find you, no matter where you went or how far you went, and either traumatise or kill you.

"Maybe he gets to win this time.". Your head snapped towards Sam as she stood up from her chair. You all stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief. "He wants to punish me. Me! So maybe I let him. I'll just give myself up. If this is what I have to do to keep you safe, it's worth it."

Sam spoke boldly but brokenly, tears streaming down her face. Tara swiftly stood up as soon as Sam stopped talking, her absence forcing you to shift uncomfortably at the lack of warmth and sudden exposure to the others.

"No, we're not doing that, Sam, alright? You went back to Woodsboro to protect me. Every single day you make the decision to protect me. None of us would even be alive if it weren't for you. You have to let us protect you this time."

If you hadn't already drained yourself of tears, you were certain you would have shed a few at Tara's words. The warmth and the passion behind them cause your heart to swell in your chest, filling you with a sense of pride that you get to call Tara your girlfriend.

"We're a team, remember." "Actually, we're family." "Let's go! Core four!". The four of them were now standing up whilst you remained on the couch, your knees help up to your chest as you watched them with a clenched jaw.

You'd accepted the fact you weren't in the 'core four', but that didn't mean it still didn't hurt.

You watched with a distant stare as they all put their hands in, an apparent 'tradition' that Danny tried to get in on but was quickly ushered away by Chad. Surprisingly, Tara glanced back at you, sending you a small sympathetic smile in an attempt to cheer you up. When she saw it failed, she reached her spare hand out behind her, beckoning you to hold it.

Your eyes looked at her hand, surprised for a moment, before slipping your fingers in between hers. She gave your hand a soft squeeze as you stood up and situated yourself behind her, almost using her as a makeshift shield.

"He's gonna keep coming after us." Sam warned as the four of their hands dropped, yours remaining in Tara's other hand. "Isn't there somewhere safe we can just haul up in?" Ethan chimes in, clueless as usual. "He's just gonna keep finding us."

You watched as the cogs turned in Tara's mind before her head spun around to face you. "We could use that though.". As her eyes met yours, you were hit with the same epiphany. Her soft hand lefts yours as she searches for her phone in her pockets, eventually pulling it out and calling Detective Bailey.

As the phone rang through the speaker, the questioning eyes of the others looked between you and your girlfriend, curious as to what you had both telepathically figured out. When he finally answered the phone, Tara was quick to propose your plan.

"We want to lure him to a secure location and trap him inside." "And then what?" "We execute him.". Although you were hesitant about involving the detective after his somewhat suspicious actions earlier in the day, unfortunately, without his help, your plan could never work.

"Are you gonna help us?". There's a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. You all look at each other expectantly as you all desperately await an answer, this plan being the only thing that could logically work at this point in time.

"Let's kill this son of a bitch."

There is a collective sigh of relief as he explains how the rest of the night should pan out. "I'll tell Kirby to meet you there, and I'll join you as soon as I can.". As the realisation that 'act three' is closing in on you hits, your pulse roars in your throat as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the torture that lies ahead.

"Remember, travel in public. The more people around you, the less chance he has to take a shot at you before you get there.". That definitely didn't aid in calming down your nerves, the idea of travelling through the packed New York City on public transport causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach.

"The subway it is."

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[optichocolate]

Absolute flash won't come out in sooo long and yet my brain won't stop thinking about it...

Anyways we got some pictures and I'm gonna analyze the hell out of them like the nerd I am. So, first things first. We got this image when absolute flash was first announced and I saw some people trying to guees what it meant and that maybe the figure around Wally was Barry. But I think it's Wally himself in this pictures. What that means I have no idea, but you can see three figures around him and I think the haircut of this person is kinda similarto Wally's own? He looks tormented by the figure which is not cool, but hey it's not the flash if Wally doesn't suffer a little amiright?

In the second image he looks really shocked to have powers which means he probably wasn't born with them. The image on the bottom panel kinda supports my theory that these red things are Wally's powers. Either it's an stylistic choice, a new spin on the speedforce, or he's being possessed by something. Could be all three.

His fear on these images could be because his powers hurt him, which is likely the reason, BUT! I'm gonna venture and say that in this universe, being a metahuman is illegal, or simply very very bad. We go this image of the rouges looking badass and my initial thought was that they were assossiated with the government somehow. I think they could be paid in order to do certain things (probably hunting metas?) and getting paid for it. Maybe they are even viewed as superheroes!

I'm so excited to see them in action. So far we can see Golden Glider, Captain Cold, Captain Boomerang, and Trickster? I think? Probably a new character cause it looks like a woman.

And finally my favorite page.

Here we get Wally talking to... someone. I actually have no idea who this is. It gives me uncle Ben vibes, but he looks to old be Barry. And since this is a story where the heroes are doing BADLY I assume it's not Jay either. The only way I could see it being either of those two is if they die OR wally won't see them anymore. The last panel being all black makes me think they are telling Wally something shocking, or maybe they are sending him away?

It could also be Rudy...? Wally has green eyes, and the guy has brown eyes, though. Besides, Rudy and this guy look nothing alike and it's... weird seeing him being so chill. Have we ever seen Rudy actually sit down and talk to Wally in a nice way? At least this guy looks chill, though he IS pretty big. Look how tiny wally loooks in comparison. Sure hope he won't turn him in to the Rouges or something.

The third possible option is that this is a foster parent? Maybe Ira West took him in? Could be a totally new character, the point is that he takes care of Wally. Maybe Rudy and Mary died, or they were clearly abusive in here? The second option doesn't sound too far-fetched... The writer has complete freedom over this story considering it's like a canon AU, so anything could happen. This guy could be an alien for all we know. A manifestation of the speedforce? A memory? A nightmare? Who knows...

[balioc]

I have a beard, of a particular slightly-distinctive style. I've had that same beard for the entirety of my adult life.

This is, obviously, the most contingent kind of fact about me. If I wanted to shave it off, or to style it differently, I could do so right now with zero difficulty. It's not a cultural signifier, or a marker of group belonging, or anything; even to me, it doesn't really mean anything other than "this is a symbol of me-the-person because it is associated with me because I have it." I started cultivating it in mid-adolescence for ephemeral irrelevant reasons, and kept it going basically out of inertia.

Nonetheless: it is really important to me. Like, really really important.

I basically cannot use character-creators or avatar-generators of any sort unless they have appropriate-enough beard options. When I contemplate getting rid of the beard...well, based on the way other people use the term, I think that the appropriate word for the feeling I get from that is dysphoria. During a brief period when I thought that I might have to get rid of the beard for medical reasons, I seriously considered wearing some kind of full-face leper mask whenever I left the house, because the thought of hiding my face from the world forever made me less unhappy than the thought of having people see me clean-shaven.

And, crucially, this affects my ability to Identify With People in literature and media. I am about 900% more likely to have an "it me" mental reflex if the character in question has a Beard Like Mine, regardless of whether there's any actual substantive commonality or grounds-for-sympathy there. I can control this with deliberate effort, but -- it takes deliberate effort. This phenomenon has probably had some measurable effect on my personality and philosophy, simply by causing me to identify or not-identify with potentially-high-impact characters in a subconscious (or conscious) way.

For example: I basically always see elves as Other and Not-Me, because elves are usually portrayed as the Beardless People, even if there are all sorts of obvious reasons to map myself onto a particular elvish character or elvish culture. Which there often are!

You might be inclined to say that this is, uh, stupid. I wouldn't blame you. It is, at the least, definitely very irrational; it's an aggressively hypertrophied bit of mental DNA, the sort of thing that you might fairly-if-uncharitably call a "psychic cancer." But of course it's never going to change, because the phenomenon operates deep down on the level of appreciative impulses and happy-buttons, which are mostly impervious to reason. (Assuming that you're inclined to try and alter them through reason, which is usually not worth the effort even when it can work.)

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It's not actually a problem for me that beard-related neurosis prevents me from identifying with elves. Not much of a problem, anyway. I guess I lose out on some cool Line of Feanor feels.

But I can imagine it being a problem. I can imagine the world in which the cool resonant myth that everyone cares about, the thing around which you want to build big chunks of your identity, has only elves with whom to identify. I can imagine the world in which all the cool smart people I want to be my friends are endlessly talking about their elfsonas.

And, y'know, in that hypothetical world, there's a few different ways I could react. I could say "fuck you, fantasy myth is for losers." I could be a mythic entrepreneur, and aggressively push my own homegrown stories featuring dwarves and ogres and other beardy folk. I could try to [shudder] map myself onto a beardless elf in my mind, and let that image occupy space in my fantasies, and hope that the revulsion and dissonance don't tear me apart. I could just be kinda sad about it all.

Or I could say: Hey, guys, could we maybe just agree that elves can have beards? Since they're made up and all, and their beardlessness doesn't even really matter to the myth anyway?

If I were so inclined, I could even follow that up with: Look, this is a really big deal for me. I'm pretty sure it's a much bigger deal for me than it is for any of you. That would be 100% honest.

And I imagine that many people would respond: What? No. Ew. The elf stories have clear lore and a well-defined aesthetic, and you're proposing to shit all over them with your weird beard nonsense. You don't get to do that; you don't get to make the akashic commons worse for your own private benefit; it doesn't matter what your reasons are. Play by the rules, or go play another game.

I would have a lot of sympathy for those people.

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(Yes, yes, I know, Cirdan the Shipwright, don't @ me.)

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There are, of course, lessons in this. Perhaps I will spell them out in another post, soon, if I find myself feeling less tired and cranky. But for now: he who has ears to hear, let him hear.