#anyways this is why I shouldn’t be up at four am

[vexedmilky]

I’m freaking out rn because what do you mean I don’t look exactly like Shuichi Saihara from the hit game Danganronpa V3: Killing harmony

(Look in tags if you wanna see my sleep deprived rant)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] The Grand Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Summary: Toji has been stressing about this for the past week. He needs it to be perfect. He wants to tell his grandchildren about how grandpa was romantic and thoughtful once upon a time- He wants to set the standard high for them. Grandpa loves grandma like no other.

Chapter Warnings: Fluff

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“Does my tie look okay?” Toji feels ridiculous asking the question to his four-year-old but today is a very special occasion. It’s one of the most important days in Toji’s life, and he can trust that his son will tell him the truth.

“You’re too tall.” Megumi can’t reach all the way up to the tie, so Toji picks the little guy up and puts him on the bed. Megumi gets his grubby little hands on the tie and fixes it. He crooks his father’s tie, even though it was perfectly fine before– In Megumi’s eyes it looks perfect, which is what matters. Toji’s too nervous to even notice it, blindly accepting the judgment from Megumi.

“I think I’m ready.” Toji says, until Megumi’s hand rubs against the stubble on his face. Toji sighs, feeling pathetic for the way he acts tonight. “Okay, I have to shave.”

“Yeah, you don’t want her to say no.” Megumi responds, sitting down on the bed as his father walks away.

Toji is taking deep breaths, trying his best to calm down. He’s nervous, a feeling that rarely comes to Toji but when it does, it’s bad; it consumes him as a whole. He’s proposing to you tonight. After a year of dating, Toji decided that it’s time. 

A year is not a long time by any means, but Toji just knows that you’re the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. It’s undeniable, after all, it’s destiny. He just knows that you’re the woman he’s supposed to be with, and he doesn’t want to waste another minute.

Maybe it’s too soon, and he should hold off on the question. You’ve barely talked about marriage anyway, you’ve just talked about the fact that you do want to get married eventually. He can’t back down now, he already spent money on the proposal so he’ll try at the very least. 

His hands are shaky as he puts the shaving cream on his face… He’s done this before, why does he feel so nervous? Granted, last time he proposed to a woman it was a spur of the moment decision, not a very detailed plan. He didn’t have time to think about it and back down like he does now.

“Am I coming with you?” Megumi barges into the bathroom, and Toji nearly cuts himself, startled by the little one.

“You’re staying with a friend.” Toji answers, and Megumi pouts. He wants to be included, not stay behind and hear about the spectacular night you and his father had. Why can’t he be included?

“I’m more fun than you.” Megumi says, and Toji laughs. There’s no doubt in Toji’s mind, but this doesn’t require Megumi and his way of providing entertainment. “I’m not going to bother you.”

“You still have to stay behind, Megumi.” Toji responds, and the child pouts. Megumi stomps away, and Toji rolls his eyes. What a dramatic child. “You’re going to have fun! Don’t throw a tantrum.”

Megumi somewhat helps Toji calm down his nerves. At least he gets a laugh out of the child’s attitude. Toji swears the child doesn’t get the attitude from him.

“Are you ready to go, Megumi?” Toji yells as he pats his face dry. He shouldn’t be asking the question when he’s not even close to being ready, but it’s easier to focus on someone else when you’re in Toji’s shoes. There’s no response which can only be one thing: Megumi’s too mad at Toji to care.

Toji walks out of the bathroom to get the rest of his shit together. He’s running behind, he promised he’d be at your door at seven but he’s going to be at least ten minutes late. He feels like he’s lost his head– Oh, he’s praying you accept because there’s no way he can propose again. He absolutely hates this feeling, he has no idea where to go and which step he should take next.

“I promise I’ll behave.” Megumi is following behind Toji, trying to convince his father to let him go. He just wants to be a part of this very special night, not be left behind with some loser. Toji ignores the child that follows behind like a lost puppy. 

“Where’s my cologne?” Toji mutters, running around trying to find it. He’s lost his head. It’s not where it usually is which leads him to believe that the little bug that keeps pestering him is hiding items. He could go without it, but you often mention how he smells so good that you could just eat him. He’s trying to get everything in his favor tonight, so he can’t go off without the cologne. “Where did you put it, Megumi?”

“I don’t have it.” He claims, but one swift look at the child tells Toji all he needs to know. Toji begins to walk to the child’s bedroom, and the moment he steps into the room he notices a plushie that’s out of place. He moves it to the side to find his cologne and as well as the ring box.

“Megumi, what did I tell you about lying?” Toji sternly speaks, looking at the child that’s less than half his size. Megumi looks at his feet in shame, not because he feels bad but because he’s been caught.

“To only do it when it helps you.” Megumi responds, barely audible for the man. Toji doesn’t care to discipline the child too much, he’s running out of time. He’ll deal with Megumi later.

“I have to get going.” Toji looks at his watch, realizing that he should be out the door by this time. But he can’t leave Megumi alone at home, and Megumi isn’t ready yet. “Megumi, if you aren’t ready within the next five minutes, I’m leaving you home alone.”

“Okay…” He hates the hint of attitude that’s in Megumi’s voice. The child couldn’t care less. He doesn’t take Toji seriously, and Toji can’t stand it. 

“You know what happens when a child your age is left home alone?” Instilling fear will surely work. Toji is fighting back a smirk when Megumi shakes his head. “A big ugly monster comes and takes them.”

“Uglier than you?” Megumi says, which makes Toji sigh. Perhaps he should be offended, but he’s used to Megumi’s mouthiness at this point. It’s just another night for Toji. 

“Yeah, uglier than me and meaner as well. Now get ready.” Toji responds, though his tactic is not working. Megumi is unbothered, and Toji can’t afford to waste another second. It’s fine, Megumi isn’t really doing much, so he’ll be fine in pajamas.

“We’re leaving.” Toji picks the child up and carries him to the car. Megumi is kicking his feet, trying to break free from his father’s grip– To no avail, Toji is much stronger than Megumi. “Any chance you had of coming with me perished.”

“What does that mean?” Megumi asks while kicking his feet in the air. “Let me get my toys!”

“No, you made your choice. You wanted to be a brat, and now you’re going to Gojo’s place in your pajamas, with no shoes and no toys.” Toji feels a twinge of empathy for the child but he’s too irritated to let Megumi go back inside. Toji is running late, and tonight he wants you to have no doubts about him. He’s the perfect man for you, he has to showcase that in every possible way.

“I’m gonna run away!” Megumi yells, though he can’t do much when Toji holds him. Toji rolls his eyes. He knows that the neighbors hear how his child yells from the top of his lungs, but they know Megumi is a tad bit overdramatic. 

“Right before your fifth birthday? Please do me the favor so I can sell your gift.” Toji responds which instantly calms Megumi down. That threat works like a charm, perhaps he should’ve led with that. “Gojo better tell me that you were an angel or else.”

“I’ll behave!” Megumi claims, needing his birthday gifts to be safe. 

That was all it took for Megumi to behave for the rest of the night.

Toji’s hands are sweaty as he knocks on your door. His heart is about to beat out of his chest… All for what, a marriage proposal? Toji, a man that’s conquered many hearts because of how charming (and manipulative) he can be when he sets his heart on something. This shouldn’t be hard, he shouldn’t be nervous.

“Toji!” You exclaim as you open the door, looking as beautiful as ever tonight. He’s about to crap himself, he can’t propose. Your hands meet behind his neck before bringing him down to peck his lips. Your nose goes to the crook of his neck, and just as he expected, you tell him, “You smell so good, I could eat you.”

“I’m not opposed to that.” Toji chuckles as you press a subtle kiss on his neck. He pulls you into his embrace, hands resting on the small of your back. “You’re looking stunning tonight.”

“When am I not?” You reply with a laugh. You close the door behind you, and intertwine your arm with his before walking out. “Where are you taking me tonight, big boy?”

“It’s a surprise.” He tells you, and you squint as you look at him. Something is up with him, Toji doesn’t do surprises. “You’re looking at me funny.”

“What’s up with you?” You question, and you swear you see his cheeks turn pink. But Toji? That’s unlikely, your eyes must be deceiving you. You look away, knowing there’s no possibility that your boyfriend is blushing.

“There’s nothing up with me. Jumping to conclusions already?” He tries to play it off, which gives it away. There’s something up with him, and you’re going to figure it out.

“How’s Megumi?” You ask him, and Toji can say a lot but he decides on sighing. That’s all he needs to say, you know that the little guy can be stubborn. “What did he do this time?”

“Wanted to join our date.” He chuckles, and you can’t help but laugh as well. You’d let the child join, you’re always happy to have Megumi with you… But Toji knows best. And you do appreciate not having to watch your mouth and being able to be as affectionate as you want to be with Toji.

“Poor little guy, you should’ve let him join.” You’re clearly joking, but Toji can’t help but roll his eyes. Megumi is such a cockblock that he should be studied by scientists, it should be impossible. Luckily he got rid of the child for the night. 

“Can’t thank Satoru enough for taking him off my hands tonight.” Toji says, and you’re fighting back on smiling as you think about what tonight has in store for you. It’s going to be fun, that’s what you can gather from this.

“I’ll thank Satoru if you make tonight worth it.” You wink at him, and he should make some sort of remark that’ll make you chuckle, but he feels as if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. He’s going to do it. He’s going to propose…

“Yeah…” He lets out an awkward laugh. You get to his car, and he opens the passenger door for you. You kiss his cheek, muttering a thank you before getting into his car. He takes a deep breath as he shuts the car door, muttering, “Tonight is going to be unforgettable.”

“Woah… This place is…” You’re sitting across from Toji, holding the menu in your hands and staring at the high prices. Toji has never taken you to a place this expensive before, and it makes you wonder what he has up his sleeve. “Nice.” 

“Yeah, I want tonight to be spec– Nice.” He corrects himself before he gives it away. And then it hits you. Perhaps you should’ve known the moment he took you to a place where there is valet parking, but what matters is that now you know.

You thought it was next month, but apparently it’s tonight since Toji is going above and beyond. Your second year anniversary with Toji. Many questions pop into your head as you try to figure out how you’ve forgotten this very special night… And how did Toji even remember?

“Happy anniversary.” You smile, trying to play it off. It totally hadn’t slipped your mind. Toji looks puzzled as if he’s trying to figure something out. Your mind lands on his gift. A non-existent gift that you very obviously do not carry with you. You decide to lie, “I do have a gift for you, but it’s back at my place.”

“Happy anniversary.” He’s forcing himself to smile. He forgot that? How did he forget it? He had it marked on his calendar but guesses with being in a rush about a proposal and whatnot made it slip his mind. “I do have a gift for you as well.”

“What is it?” Your interest is piqued, and you really don’t want to wait till later to find out. You’re not as patient as you claim to be.

“What’s your gift?” Toji responds, and you roll your eyes. You haven’t figured it out yet, therefore you can’t give him a response.

“Fine, leave me guessing.” There’s a hint of attitude in your tone, something that Toji doesn’t care enough to fix. He has bigger issues right now. “What can I order? I know you’re not made of money.”

“That’s kind of rude.” Toji points out, holding back on laughing. You aren’t wrong though, but tonight is special. He wouldn’t take you to a place he couldn’t afford. “I brought you here because I can afford it. Order the whole menu if you want.”

“Really?” You raise a brow his way, and Toji clicks his tongue. He puts his hands up defensively before saying,

“You got me. Don’t order the whole menu, I don’t have that kind of money.” He laughs, and you chuckle. 

“Thank you for bringing me here, dear. This is a very lovely place.” You reach over, and take his hands into yours. You feel just how sweaty his palms are, and you wonder why. It’s definitely not hot for him to be sweaty. “Toji, are you nervous?”

“Why would I– You know, I think we should celebrate.” Toji has to do it now, he might die if he waits till dessert. He’ll call over the waiter, and proceed with the plan that he had. He got the idea from some article on the internet, putting the ring in your drink and whatever follows. It’s not particularly romantic but for Toji it’s perfect. Toji’s charming, not romantic.

“Celebrate?” You question before remembering your anniversary. You feel bad for forgetting when he’s clearly put effort into tonight. You can fake it though. “Of course, let’s celebrate.”

Toji flags down the waiter, telling him to bring out champagne. Toji doesn’t drink, but tonight he'll make an exception. You also know he doesn’t drink, which makes you suspicious. Tonight is not an ordinary night.

“Two years already, huh? When are you proposing?” You tease him, and he nearly chokes on his own saliva. His eyes are wide and you feel the need to clarify. “I’m joking, babe. You don’t have to react like that.”

“React like what? I’m fine.” He says, and you’re having a hard time believing him. He’s nervous about something, it’s written all over his face. “You have to stop reading into things.”

“I’m not.” You respond, knowing that there’s something up with Toji. A man that’s usually stoic looks almost nervous. You won’t push him to give you an answer though, that surely won’t work with Toji.

“Finally.” Toji’s eyes glimmer at the sight of the glasses on the table. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself to speak. To give the small speech that he wrote down with Megumi’s crayon. A small speech that he lost because Megumi poured a glass of water on it– But it’s fine, he memorized it. 

“Cheers.” You grab the glass in front of you, and clink it with Toji’s. You furrow your brows, noticing that the liquid in Toji’s is shaking. He’s shaking. “Toji, are you okay? Are you cold?”

“They keep the place chilly.” He tries to laugh it off. He’s giving it away. Though he says it’s chilly, he’s sweating. But before you can question it, Toji chugs down his drink. There’s something wrong with him. He prompts you to drink as well, “It’s gonna get warm.”

“I’m not in a rush.” You look at him inquisitively. You love Toji, and you’ve gotten to know him pretty well. But you can’t know what’s going through his mind by merely looking at him. You grab your drink slowly, and bring the glass to your lips before taking a long sip of the champagne. Drinking from a glass has never been as awkward as it is now, feeling Toji’s eyes watching your every move.

“Toji, this is the last time I ask, what the fuck is up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated with him. He’s acting odd, and you wonder if you did something wrong. 

“Look at the bottom of the glass.” He instructs you and you frown, grabbing the glass and inspecting the bottom of it. There’s nothing. Perhaps it’s because there’s some liquid, but apart from bubbles you spot nothing. 

“What?” You question, and Toji loosens his tie. “Did you see something weird?”

“Is there nothing at the bottom?” Toji asks, and he almost loses his shit when you shake your head. His eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen, and suddenly the man stands up from his chair. He bites down his tongue before saying one simple word, “Bathroom.”

Before you can utter a word, Toji’s gone. What an odd man he is tonight.

Toji looks around the place, trying to find the dumb waiter that he tasked this with. The instructions are very clear, how could he mess that up? Toji’s eyes land on the waiter, and the poor man begins to tremble when he sees Toji’s terrifying glare. A predator has spotted its prey, and the prey is too slow to run away.

Toji grabs the waiter by his collar, dragging him from the kitchen to the back of the restaurant in a matter of seconds. Toji is pinning this twenty-something-year-old against the wall, making the poor man almost cry out to his mommy. Toji feels like he’s doing some shady business again.

“Where the fuck is that ring, boy? You know how much that cost me?! I’ll sell your intestines to make you pay.” Toji threatens; a threat that holds no weight, but sounds so natural as it rolls off Toji’s tongue. 

“I-I don’t know, s-sir. I promise I put it in.” The waiter stumbles over his words, absolutely terrified of Toji. It’s a scary scene, specifically with how ravenous Toji looks. Toji’s hungry for blood, and he’s staring at the perfect target. 

“Where the fuck is it? That damn ring cost me an arm and a leg.” Toji’s anger couldn’t be more clear than now. It’s absolutely terrifying for any bystander, and of course, the poor man that is pinned against the wall. 

“Whose?” The young man is closing his eyes, scared that these moments might be his last. The grip on the collar tightens, Toji getting angrier by the second.

“You want to joke around with me? Is this funny to you?” Toji spits out, and the poor boy frantically shakes his head. Toji finally let’s go, letting out an annoyed sigh. “Get me your fucking manager.”

“Yessir.” The young man responds, body nearly falling to the ground as he struggles to find balance. At least Toji let him go. He’s alive, and he should be grateful.

“That took you long enough.” You chuckle, watching as Toji sits across from you once again. You want to ask if the reason why he was acting weird was because of a stomach bug, but Toji looks mad. 

“Must’ve eaten something bad.” Toji mutters, as if upset. Though you understand having a stomach bug is not enjoyable, you don’t particularly understand why he looks mad. 

“Do we have to go? Our celebration can wait.” You reassure him, but Toji shakes his head. He sighs. 

“We have to celebrate our anniversary.” He responds, but you don’t want him to put his well being at risk to celebrate the date. Your celebration can wait until he gets better. Your hands reach over to grab his own, giving them a squeeze.

“I don’t want you to sit through a celebration while you’re feeling ill.” You watch him avert his gaze. You know he’s upset about this, and you think of how to make him feel better. You chuckle before confessing, “I forgot about our anniversary… I thought this was just going to be one of our usual dates but here you go, going above and beyond. So don’t feel bad if you want to cancel all of our plans, and call it a night. We can just go home, and I’ll make you tea to help your upset stomach.”

“I guess…” Toji is a fool. Putting a ring that expensive in a glass of champagne? For you? That man should’ve carved out your name on a mountain and asked you to marry him at the bare minimum. This place– The proposal and the restaurant is too trashy for what you deserve.

“I have to talk to the manager, will you give me a second?” Toji asks, and you furrow your brows. Was the incident in the bathroom that bad? You won’t question it. You don’t want to embarrass the man. 

Toji comes back within five minutes, extending his hand for you to take. Without a doubt, you take it and leave with him. You’ll go anywhere that Toji wants to take you.

“You know–” You begin before shoving a fry into your mouth. Toji decided to take you to eat fast food before going home. Though he’s supposed to be sick, you’re both eating fast food in his car. Luckily he’s parked outside of the place, so in case an emergency does come up, he can run inside. “I’m surprised you remembered our anniversary but I didn’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Toji questions, reaching over and taking one of your fries since he already ate all of his. He eats fast– One thing about Toji, he’ll make sure he doesn’t have to share. You glare at his hand, and almost slap it away.

“That I’m the one that’s usually great at remembering dates.” You answer, and Toji tries to recall today’s date. Tonight he just got extremely lucky… In that sense at least. He’s calling it quits on tonight’s plan. He’ll perfect the proposal over the coming weeks. “But you know what they say: a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“Did you just compare me to a broken block?” He’s slightly offended by the question, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes makes him chuckle. As revenge, he reaches over and takes a couple more of your fries.

“Hey! Stop eating all of my food!” You scold him, and he fights back a smirk. He puts on a show of eating your food in front of you, showing off that he’s taken your fries and you can’t do anything about it. “You shouldn’t even be eating this with your stomach.”

“My stomach is fine.” He assures you, but you can’t take him seriously. Toji could be dying on a hospital bed, and he’d still reassure you that he’s completely fine. With how long it took him to come back from the bathroom, you doubt he’s okay.

“Are you sure? Because–”

“What do you think about getting married?” Toji cuts you off, not wanting to talk about an upset stomach or his shitting habits. You can’t help but giggle at the way he changes the conversation, especially from something so ridiculous to a serious matter.

“Why? Are you proposing?” You tease, and Toji rolls his eyes at your reaction. You chuckle before answering truthfully, “I’d love to get married to you someday. Anywhere, any time.”

“Good, because you’re stuck with me for life.” Toji tries to joke, but it sounds very serious. He’s joking but at the same time he isn't. Not that you mind being stuck with him for life.

“Hmm… How about we go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married?” You propose and Toji begins to choke on the fry that he stole from you. He quickly grabs the soda and drinks like a wild man, while hitting his chest. You’re worried for a millisecond before you burst out laughing.

Toji coughs up his fry while the sound of your laughter fills up the car. Your hand goes to his back, caressing it as he calms down.

“Glad– That my– Near death experience is funny to you.” He’s still coughing. When he calms down, he’s glaring at you. A glare that many find intimidating. But you find it amusing, knowing Toji isn’t going to do anything.

“Could you imagine? Death by fry? I can’t decide if that’s an amazing or a pathetic way to go.” You say, and Toji rolls his eyes again.

“Fine, let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow and get married.” Toji agrees. It definitely takes the weight of proposing off his shoulders. 

You shake your head. “I was joking.”

“Like hell you were. I know how you women are. You’re joking, but you’re actually dropping hints.” He does air quotes, and you glare at him. The difference between you glaring at him, and him glaring at you is that he actually feels a twinge of fear when you look at him badly. He begins to laugh, putting his hands up defensively, “I was just messing around.”

“Like hell you were, punk.” You sound so serious that it scares him. Before he can even defend himself, your hand goes to his bicep and you proceed to lightly pinch him. He cries in pain, and you let go before leaning over to kiss the same spot. 

You proceed to apologize in a high pitched voice, “Sowwy for hurting you, baby.”

“Okay, say it again but in a normal voice.” Toji replies, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m only apologizing with the baby voice. Take it or leave it.” You cross your arms, acting as if you have the upper hand in this situation.

“Leave it. I have enough with Megumi.” Toji responds, making you click your tongue.

“Are we picking up the little guy before going home?” You ask, and Toji hums in response. He almost forgot that his offspring is with your best friend for the night. 

“Yeah. He’ll kill me if we don’t.”

You hum along to the tune of one of your favorite songs as Toji drives back to Gojo’s place. You tried to joke around with Toji some more, but after the drive started, he stopped paying attention. He looks pensive, and you wonder if it’s the same thoughts that were affecting him earlier.

“Oh, look, it’s raining.” You point out as if Toji hadn’t turned on the windshield wipers. You just want Toji to say something, but he’s suddenly gone mute.

Toji’s thoughts are about Megumi. The little cockblocker is going to spoil his plan. Megumi has kept his mouth shut for a whole week after finding out the plan, Toji knows the little guy isn’t going to hold it for much longer. 

“Are you hot?” You ask as Toji lowers the air conditioning. He takes off his suit jacket at the red light, unable to contain the heat. It’s pretty cold out, but he’s acting a little odd tonight.

Before you know it, you’re outside of Satoru’s apartment complex. Your hand goes to the door handle, but before you open it, Toji speaks up, “Stay here. It’s raining.”

“I want to say hi to my little guy.” You say, but Toji shakes his head. He’ll refuse to let you out of the car.

“You’re sleeping over tonight anyway. I can’t protect both of you from the rain, and the last thing I need is you both being whiny babies because of a cold.” Toji responds, and you pout. Toji will let you figure out your own feelings while he goes to pick up Megumi. 

“Stupid Toji.” You mutter when the car door shuts. At least he’s doing this to keep you well, but you can’t help but think this has something to do with his weird behavior. You begin to mock him, “You’re sleeping over anyway. Dumbass.”

You begin to turn up the temperature, freezing with the air conditioning on. But you feel a twinge of remorse while you do it, knowing that he’s going to be hot when he gets to the car. You turn the air conditioning down again, opting to take his jacket instead. 

You put it on, and begin to feel his pockets. Maybe you’ll find some change… It’s not like Toji is going to notice a few coins missing. What’s his is yours, and what’s yours is yours. However the saying goes. A smirk comes to your lips when you feel something cold, “Bingo.”

“Huh?” Your expression quickly changes, your eyes becoming wide when you see that it’s not a coin. It’s something much more expensive. Something that answers everything. Why he took you to an expensive restaurant, why he was acting so weird, why he suddenly remembered your anniversary (though it hits you that it’s not the date, you assumed wrong).

You stare at it for what feels like forever. It looks like it’ll fit perfectly. You exit the car, not caring that it is drizzling out. You can withstand some water, what you can’t stand is sitting in the car alone with your own thoughts for another second. He’s coming out of the building, holding an umbrella over Megumi’s head. 

“What are you doing out?!” Toji yells when he sees you outside of the car, wearing his jacket. He frowns, until he sees you hold something up. He doesn’t have to squint to see what it is, and he begins to freak out immediately. “Snoopy! Why were you going through that?!”

“Megumi, get in the car.” Toji hands the umbrella to the child, a task that Megumi is happy to take over. Toji walks over to you, attempting to snatch the ring out of your hands.

“What is this?” You ask, and Toji refuses to answer, focusing on getting the ring from your hands but you begin to move around. You can’t help but giggle as you watch a very frustrated Toji try to take a ring from you. “You won’t get it back until you answer.”

“Then…” Toji restrains you, grabbing both of your wrists. It’s an awkward position, one arm over your head while you hold the other in front of you. “We won’t move.”

“So much for not getting me sick.” You mention, and you know that he fights back a smile. You look into his eyes, seeing the uncertainty that consumes them. Toji was hoping tonight he’d have the perfect proposal, and when he realized that everything was going south, he backed out. Your heart melts at the thought of your big intimidating boyfriend getting worried because of this. 

“Will you give it back?” He’s talking to you as if you were Megumi. 

“I do–” You begin. “I’ll hold that for the ceremony.”

“Huh?” Toji lets go of your wrists, and you proceed to place the ring in the palm of his hand. You kiss the tip of his nose before pressing your forehead against his. Toji laughs, relief washing over him. “I didn’t even ask the question.”

“What are you waiting for?” You ask, and Toji pulls away. 

He gets on one knee on the wet asphalt, holding the ring that nearly cost him his intestines, with the most genuine smile on his face. His eyes are brimming with love. He had a long sappy speech that he copied off the internet. Something overly romantic. Something disingenuous to his character.

“Will you marry me?” 

“Yes.” You nod excitedly, and Toji slips the ring on your finger before getting up from the ground and picking you up. He kisses you once. Then again. And again, and again. 

“Eugh!” You both hear that makes the kissing stop. Megumi is waiting for you two to finish to properly greet you– One thing you notice, the umbrella is gone.

Toji sighs. Great, everyone is going to be sick for at least a week.

At least he’s getting married soon.

[kinardsevan]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮

i don't know that i'm satisfied with how this ends, but the stills got me thinking more about the idea of Maddie being the one who tells Buck that he needs to call Tommy, and then I was already working on a coffee date recreation, so have this:

-

Maddie looks at the loaves of bread spread out on the counter and then back up at her brother, tilting her head to the side. 

“Evan. I thought you said you were doing okay,” she states, leaning up at against the counter next to her husband. 

“I am,” he insists. 

“So why are there four loaves of bread on the counter,” Chimney asks, confused. “That seems like you’re overloading your schedule to occupy your time.” 

“I’m not,” Evan counters, looking back and forth between them. They both stare back at him skeptically. 

“Dude, come on,” Chimney insists. “I know that sweater you had on the other night was one of Tommy’s. Between that, the lack of shaving, and now the abundance of food-..”

“I’m dealing,” Evan insists. Maddie sighs, looking over at her husband. He raises his hands and picks up his wine glass before glancing between them. 

“I’m gonna go see what’s on the sports channel,” he states before walking out of the room and into the living room. Maddie moves closer to Evan, rounding the counter. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, but when Maddie looks up at him with that face—the one that tells him she isn’t buying the shit he’s selling—he sighs and shakes is head. “I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? It’s not like we were together that long.” 

“Six months,” Maddie states. 

Evan nods. “Yeah, and? I mean I was with Taylor for longer. She actually moved in here.” 

Maddie stares at him for a moment and then furrows her brow at him. “Wait, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Nothing,” Evan insists. “It doesn’t mean anything when Tommy doesn’t think I’d stay with him anyway.” 

“No, no, it clearly means something,” Maddie counters. “I’m not letting you drop it that easily. Talk to me. Tell me what actually happened.” 

Evan huffs, leaning against the counter. 

“We were talking about Abby, and I was telling him how that relationship had been transformative for me, at least until I met him, a-and then I told him that I wanted him to move in with me.” 

“Okay,” Maddie replies, processing his words. “And you told him you love him, right?” 

Evan stares at her as though she’s gone Blue Screen on him and she bobs her head forward, gaping at him slightly. 

“Evan.” She comments. “You told him how you feel, right?” 

“I- I thought- I mean we-..” 

“Okay, I’m sorry, I can’t fake that I’m not paying attention this long,” Chimney states as he crosses back into the kitchen. “You asked Tommy to move in with you without telling him how you feel about him?” 

“I told him I admire him,” Evan argues. 

Maddie inhales a deep breath and shakes her head, trying to remain composed as she returns to Chimney’s side. “What exactly did you say to him?” 

Evan gulps, but then proceeds to explain to both Maddie and Chimney was he said, trying his best not to paraphrase. By the time he’s finished, Maddie and Chimney are looking at each other, both of their jaws slack. 

After a moment, Chimney turns back toward his glass of wine and picks it up and takes a long sip from it. 

“Yeah, I think I might’ve broken up with you too,” Chimney states when he sets the glass back down. 

“What the hell,” Evan counters, waving a hand out at him. 

“Look, Buck, you ran over him like the proverbial steam roller. And I’m sorry, but from the way it sounds, it comes across as being told that you want to live with him because he’s great at being gay and that makes you feel good,” Maddie explains. 

“Not to mention the Brandon of it all,” Chimney mutters, lifting his drink to take another sip. He raises an eyebrow when both Buckley siblings turn toward him. 

“The who?” “Huh?” 

Chimney takes a deep breath, mouthing an ‘oh’ before setting his glass back down. “This is why I’m not allowed to know things,” he mutters. He shakes his head. “Brandon was this kid Tommy dated around the time he was leaving the 118.” 

“I thought he wasn’t out yet,” Evan interjects. 

“He wasn’t,” Chimney answers with a nod. “But Brandon was this kid out of another house, one of the ones Tommy had looked at transferring to, I think. Anyway, you could tell after Gerrard and Sal were gone that he was loosening up and becoming more comfortable with himself, and even though he wasn’t quite there yet, he was getting there.” 

“So?” Evan asks. 

“So, three months into it, he tells me over beers that the guy wants to move in together, make all these plans for the future, is talking about buying a house. The whole nine yards. But Brandon was just coming out of a divorce, with a woman. Sold Tommy the moon, and T went for it. Gave up the place he was in, moved in with this guy into his apartment that he also was sharing with his two kids part-time.” 

Evan gulps, because he can see the writing on the wall. 

“See, Brandon hadn’t been with other men before. And they lasted about three months longer before Tommy found out that he was seeing other people. He alternated between mine and Sal’s couch for a month after that until he got the place he’s in now.” 

“He was in love with him,” Evan surmises in a rasp. 

“He thought he’d found the person he was supposed to be with,” Chimney says with a nod. “And when I tell you it took him years to get over that-..” 

“Fuck,” Evan mutters under his breath, leaning more against the island. 

Maddie waits a moment, glancing back and forth between her brother and her husband before she finally speaks up again. 

“So to be clear, I understand why Tommy panicked and took off, but why would you skip over actually telling him how you feel,” she asks. “I mean you have to get that that’s important. It probably would’ve made a massive difference in the conversation.” 

Evan inhales a deep breath and shakes his head, looking down at the counter. 

“Oh,” Maddie states. “You’re scared too.” 

He looks back up at her, his expression somber. “I mean people leave me. A-and that’s exactly what he did.” 

“Buck,” she coaxes, rounding the counter again. She runs her hand up his back as her other hand curls around the inside of his bicep. “You can’t be mad at him for being scared if you can’t also be honest about how you’re feeling.” 

He glances up at her, and his eyes are so sad that it makes her want to go into her mothering role and order him to call Tommy. 

“What if he won’t listen to me,” he rasps. She leans against his shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. 

“I mean, I’ve never heard you even mention wanting to marry someone else,” she replies softly. “That’s gotta be worth something, right?” 

Evan stares down at the counter again. 

“You should call him,” Chimney interjects, when they look back up at him, he’s taking another sip of his wine. Maddie just chuckles at him before squeezing Evan’s arm and nodding. She leans up and kisses his cheek. 

“Call him.” 

. . . 

Evan pulls his jacket tighter around his body as he settles into the cafe chair. He’s not entirely sure Tommy will show, even though the other man had texted he would. He can’t help but feel the weight that’s been making it’s home in his chest just a little heavier right now. A week ago, they were celebrating six months from that first kiss, and somehow he’s finding himself sitting at a different café, but still, six months from the day that he’d asked Tommy to be his date to his sister’s wedding. 

So much is different now, though. He didn’t have to guess Tommy’s coffee order because he knows it by heart. There’s a box in his car filled with belongings that he really doesn’t want to give back, but if this discussion doesn’t go in the right direction, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. 

Still, he can’t stop thinking about the guy on the crane from the day before, and how after they’d gotten him off to the hospital, all Evan could think about was how his people had banded around him in the aftermath. His team had kept him alive, and then they’d remained vigilant at his side while he healed. He’d had people show up in his corner every step of the way. It’s not lost on him now that Tommy has faced a life primarily without that same feeling, and that unlike him, Tommy didn’t find a forged family at work. Plus, then there’s the information he learned about the ex-boyfriend, and all of it has him seeing Tommy in an entirely different lens. 

“Hey.” Tommy’s voice is raspier, sadder than the last time he heard it as he comes around the corner of the building. Evan still perks up at the sight of him, although he’s more subdued than the last time they met up like this. 

“Hey,” he replies softly, gesturing toward the chair across from him. “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.” 

Tommy nods, and there’s a rush of pain in Evan’s chest at the lack of of course. 

“I got you a coffee,” he adds, gesturing towards it on the table. Tommy pulls his chair out and sits down. 

“Thanks,” he says, though there’s no mirth in his tone like there was that first time.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Evan states nervously as Tommy takes a sip of the drink. There’s the slightest twitch around his mouth—one the younger man has come to recognize as Tommy thinking that it tastes right. He’s very particular on his flavor and cream-to-sugar ratio, so knowing he’s still getting right gives Evan a flush of pride. “The last time we met like this, I said there was a lot of that we didn’t know about each other.” 

“Practically everything,” Tommy parrots so softly, it barely has any vocal tone in it. Evan nods. 

“Except, I do know things about you now,” Evan counters. “I know- I know that you don’t like to be awake before seven AM if you’re not on shift. I know that you think the perfect setting for the thermostat is always sixty-six, no matter what time of year it is. I know that you take three creamers and the tiniest dash of cinnamon in your coffee.” 

“Buck-..” 

“Let me finish,” Evan counters, cringing at the way that name sounds coming out of Tommy’s mouth. He takes a deep breath and looks around them before continuing. “I know your mom died when you were six, and your dad blamed you for it. I know you spent the next eleven years trying to do anything you could to keep him appeased and a target off your back, including stuffing down who you are so far down that it took you over a decade to crawl back out of that toxic mindset. And I know that all of that left you with scars, even though you don’t talk about them. I know-…I know that you would rather run because it’s easier to protect yourself than sign up for the possibility of getting hurt again.” Evan pauses and gulps as Tommy stares at him, looking very uncomfortable. 

“So I need to apologize,” he says with a breath. 

Tommy furrows his brow at him, baffled by the statement. “You have nothing to apologize for.” 

“Yes, Tommy, I do,” Evan counters, this time more insistent than he had been on that first coffee date.“I  threw a lot at you that night. I- I know that I told you I wanted to move in together, and that I was talking about a future without any practicality behind it because I just lept with both feet like I always do.” 

“I didn’t call things off because of your impulsivity,” Tommy counters. “I did it because-..” 

“Because you’ve been down that road before,” Evan finishes for him. “And it ended badly. I know that about you, too. And, the way I sounded that night…it wasn’t what I should’ve said.” 

“Okay?” Tommy acquiesces. 

Evan takes another breath and leans forward in his seat, gesturing at the space between them. “You said that when I asked you to move in with me, that I was still figuring myself out, and that everything was still new and exciting for me. And the thing is, you’re right, and you’re wrong. You’re right that things are new and exciting, but not because they’re with a man; it’s because they’re with you. And six months ago when I told you that I didn’t know what I was ready for, that was true, but now I do. It’s not about being ready for something different, Tommy, it’s about being ready for something different with you. S-so when I say I lept with both feet the other night without thinking, I missed a step in there.” 

Tommy stares at him apprehensively, giving him the space to continue. Evan sits up a little straighter. 

“I got so caught up in the process of commenting on the ways things have changed and all that you’ve done to get yourself to where you are now that I never stopped to consider how it would sound coming out of my mouth. A-and part of that was because I thought if I just convinced you to stay with me, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad if you decided that I was too much.” 

Tommy leans back in his seat, eyes widening slightly at Evan’s words. 

“I um, I know about Brandon,” he states. “And on the subject of exes, I never told you about Taylor, or how Lucy played into of how things ended with her.” He inhales a breath and then proceeds to explain Lucy’s time at the 118, their shared kiss, and how he’d been living with Taylor at the time. “And the thing is, when I moved in with her and told her I loved her, it was from a selfish place, o-of wanting to keep her around because people just kept leaving, and I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else.” 

Tommy lets out a soft sigh and leans forward. “Evan.” 

Evan shakes his head. “No. Don’t- it’s not- I’m not saying all of that because I’m chasing after you to keep you from leaving. I- I mean I am, but not like that. I mean to say that, I trapped Taylor, however unintentionally, with the idea that if she was with me, that I could make it work. Eventually, it got to the point where I couldn’t keep trying to make the pieces fit, and we split up.” 

Tommy nods. 

“But this isn’t that,” Evan continues. “This has never been that. I asked you to move in with me because I want to be with you day and night. B-because I see a future with you, and because nothing has ever felt as right as this has felt. And I understand that maybe- no, it was moving too fast. And that I skipped right over the part where I should’ve told you that I want to be with you not because it feels good or because I think you being gay makes me better at being bisexual, or anything like that. I want to be with you because I’m in love with you.” 

Tommy takes a deep breath at his statement. 

“I don’t expect you to say it back if you’re not there, a-and I don’t expect you to move in with me. That was an impulsive decision. But I’m not in a place where I’m ready to give up on this,” he states. “I love you enough that I’m willing to go at your pace this time.” 

Tommy stares at him for a beat, quiet and contemplative. “Are you sure about this?” 

“Am I sure that I love you?” Evan counters. “That I’m pretty positive on.” 

The response forces a small smile onto Tommy’s face. After a breath, he gives a small nod. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” Evan asks him. 

Tommy gulps and nods. “Yeah,” he rasps. “Because I love you, too.” 

Evan grins at him, at this time, it’s Tommy who reaches across the table and grabs his hand, squeezing it. 

[uchihaxitachi]

itachi’s june -> day 16: yandere itachi - kidnapping

warnings: yandere themes, itachi is sick and twisted of course, i get carried away when i write yandere i hope yall like it 🥰♥️🫡

feelings are, twisted things. they make people forget who they are, they make people forgive what they shouldn’t, they make people cross the boundary between what’s right and what’s wrong. what is right and what is wrong at the end of the day? there isn’t a higher being judging uchiha itachi after all, he doesn’t believe in it. if it did exist, then he would be sitting at the uchiha prefecture, at the comfort of his home and sharing dinner with his younger brother; instead of the carefully painted fake visage of hating sasuke’s guts and putting him in the endless torment of the tsukuyomi.

what is right and what is wrong?

is living for yourself wrong? when all you’ve done so far is fulfill responsibilities that cater to others?

is discreetly observing someone you adore sleep in her bed wearing skimpy clothing wrong? when you’re not intenting to harm her?

is killing the scum of an asshole wrong? who just asked her out when she clearly belongs to you?

what is right and what is wrong?

how annoying. the morality, the justice, nothing exists for those who don’t really lend an ear to it. what happens to those people? nothing. the state of konoha had several corrupt officials who still have a beating heart while several innocent uchihas unaware were slain in their craddle.

itachi is a man. a man’s job is to protect and nurture. he’s just protecting you, and nurturing you. you don’t know what’s right for you anyway, how would you? you haven’t been shown the horrors of the world when you were four? itachi knows. and itachi has to act on it.

so please don’t panic when you’re waking up to somewhere entirely unknown, the whiff of the familiar cinnamon scent that the s-ranked criminal, masked as a traveler carried when he first met you. the cozy duvet of the bed and the fluffy pillows. a perfect gold cage for itachi’s precious little dove. 🕊️

“where am i?” your heart sinks when you don’t realize any familiarity whatsoever around. itachi’s soft, yet sturdy footsteps coming towards the bedroom from the kitchen. “good morning, dear.” voice silk like and hair open, lack of the cloak that hid most of his body now accentuating his collarbone & his lean muscles. no scars… just shows no one’s ever been able to touch him to harm him anyway. just shows… how powerful he truly is.

“where am i? why am i here? itachi-“ you know his name, the only fleeting hope you’re desperately clinging on to, is his name. “please-“ the familiar panic clogs your lungs as you start gasping for air.

“ssh ssh ssh ssh~” itachi raises both his hands up in mock surrender, how these tactics are all that soothes you. you’re so naive… no wonder it had to be done. pretty little thing…

“i am not going to hurt you, okay? do you want to eat something first? should i prepare a shower for you? i want you to relax that mind for me, okay?” he hums, inching closer to you. and that’s when the true panic seeps into you. what if he hurts you — he’s dangerous, you have seen the bingo book. your mouth is dry at the thought of it alone.

so… you pick up the nearest vase at the bedside table and hurl it at him.

itachi doesn’t budge. he could, easily. could hold you by the neck and seethe with annoyance & preach about how unruly you’re behaving. how unbecoming… of a woman. his woman. but he doesn’t. he needs you to trust him, so he lets the vase hit his forehead. the shattering sound and the cut on his forehead imminent.

itachi uchiha… unscarred by all enemies he faced, bleeding for you. “don’t hurt me, either. little one.”

he has patience, it’s okay, you’re just scared, you’d grow to love him, okay?

it’s not like you have any other choice.

[idkwhatever580]

Gina?

Masterlist

Pairings: Regina George x reader

Prompt: reader helps Regina when her life falls apart

Warnings: self hate, swearing,

A/N: I had a request to do this and I did it the other way around so here is a different version. I stuggled with the body part since I kind of was going on and on and it led to something else but I hope you like it!

Y/n’s pov

I just got to my girlfriend’s house. Her mom called me and said she’s been on the treadmill for two hours.

Ms. George called around four and she said that she left school early and wouldn’t get off, so I immediately told her that I was coming over.

I had just gotten out of school too.

So I run into the house and say a quick

“Hey Ms. George!”

And I ran to their workout room.

The door is locked so I knock really hard so she can hear me. She thinks I’m her mom so she yells

“Mom I told you I need to lose three pounds!!!”

“Gina baby! It’s me! Y/n! Can you please let me in?

“No! You need to go! I need to lose more weight!”

I sigh when I realize she’s not getting off that machine until I drag her off. So I quickly find two Bobby pins and pick the lock. Thank god for coach carr.

He might not have taught me a lot of things. Except for that if you have sex you’ll get chlamydia and die. (False) but he once had to pick the lock to get back into the classroom when he accidentally got us all locked out.

So I open the door and find her eating a gross looking bar of sorts.

I turn off the treadmill and say

“Gina. Please. This isn’t healthy.”

She is panting and sweating and she finally kind of snaps out of it.

She is like really fucking tired now so I help her to the bathroom to clean off.

“What kind of bar is that Gina?”

She shrugs while washing her hair and says

“It’s like a Kalteen bar. It’s Swedish or something”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Where did you get these from and what do they do?”

“They make you lose weight. And Cady gave them to me.”

She steps out of the shower and I say

“I don’t trust that girl”

She kind of scoffs and says

“You don’t trust anyone”

I look at her as she dries off and I say

“You’re right. I don’t trust very many people. Do you even know what is in this?”

She shrugs and says

“No.”

I squint and grab the package of the bars and I look up the brand. My eyes widen when I read the description.

All of the ingredients are said to be aids in gaining weight. So I turn to Regina and say

“Spit that out. Right. Now.”

She listens and spits it out, but says

“Why?”

I grab her hand and say

“You know how I said you shouldn’t trust Cady Heron?”

She rolls her eyes and says

“Yes come on tell me”

I sigh and pick up the bar and say

“This shit makes you gain weight. She literally tricked you.”

She takes the information in and then starts screaming.

Loud.

I cover my ears and as she is screaming she goes into her closet and grabs this pink book.

She finally stopped screaming. I’ve never seen this book before so I say

“What’s that?”

“A burn book”

She starts writing something in it and puts her picture in it.

“What is it about?”

She huffs and says

“It has all the girls in our class in it. Talks shit about them.”

I look at her with wide eyes and say

“Am i in it?”

She groans and says

“No. You go to north west. . I go to north shore. It only has north shore juniors in it. Also I’d never let them write anything bad about you anyways.”

I frown and nod my head and say

“What are you doing with it?”

She rolls her eyes and says

“I’m taking it to the school. Showing everyone. Blaming the three bitches who wouldn’t let me sit at my fucking table!”

I widen my eyes and say

“Wait. You couldn’t sit at their table?”

She nods her head and says

“Because I was wearing fucking sweatpants and it wasn’t the day.”

I scoff and say

“Wow. That’s stupid”

She nods and starts crying and says

“Sweatpants are all that fits me right now because of those stupid bars. I thought Cady was nice.”

I sign and nod my head. I run to hug her and say

“Let’s think this through baby. Whatever is in this book is going to ruin some people’s lives right now okay? I know she ruined yours. I know. But there’s no need to be the same way. Remember what we talked about?”

She looks at me and says

“What?”

I smile and say

“When someone hurts us. We get back up. Stand taller than them. And come back better than ever.”

She huffs and says

“Why though? Why can’t I ruin her life?”

I sigh and say

“Regina. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Don’t be the girl that hurt you first okay? Cady is a horrible person. She will have to deal with the consequences of that. But you are a good person.”

She sniffles and says

“I’m actually not”

I frown and say

“Huh?”

“I’m not a good person.”

I laugh softly and say

“What are you talking about baby?”

She sits up and takes a deep breath. It almost looks like she is preparing herself for me to leave her or something.

“Y/n. You know I am pretty popular right?”

I nod my head and say

“What does popularity have to do with anything?”

She looks down and says

“I’m not just popular. I’m like the head bitch in charge. I rule that fucking school. Every girl wants to be me. And I am mean. I’m a bully. I’ve never been nice to anyone. Not even Gretchen or Karen.”

I look at her confused and say

“What are you talking about? That doesn’t sound like you at all”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“I know. Because I am different around you. You make me a better person. But in reality. I am no better than Cady. There’s this one girl. I used to be friends with her. Her name is Janis. I ruined her life in sixth grade. I told everyone she was a lesbian because she was sad when I didn’t hang out with her because I had a boyfriend.”

I nod my head trying to take all this information in.

“And I bullied her so bad that she lit our shared stuffed animal on fire. Because I was using it to call her a lesbian without her knowing. So she lit it on fire. And then I caught my backpack on fire. I knew that. I knew she didn’t try to light my backpack on fire. And what did i do? I called her a pyro-lez. Everyone bullied her too. Trying to be like me.”

I look down and say

“Wow. That. That’s a lot”

She nods her head and says

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I thought we’d make it to college and I could be a completely different person. I thought I could run and be the person I want to be. But when you told me that you were switching schools for senior year I freaked out. Started focusing on everything that was happening this year like my body and my school life so that I could get it all this year. Because I knew the second you found out you’d dump me and then I’d become a loser.”

I nod my head as I listen to her.

“Regina?”

She stops and says

“I’m ready. I’m ready for you to break up with me”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not breaking up with you.”

She furrows her eyebrows as I continue.

“I’m sticking with you. Okay? Clearly you have a lot of things you need to work through. And that’s okay. We all do. But I am not leaving you. I love you okay? I love everything about you. And I’m not going to leave you because I know you can be better”

She nods her head and looks away and says

“Y/n? Why do you love me? I’m not pretty anymore”

I scoff and say

“What? You mean because Cady gave you those fuck ass bars? Because you gained a little weight?”

She nods her head and says

“I’m not pretty like I used to be. My body is ruined.”

I sigh and say.

“Take off your shirt”

Her eyes widen and she says

“What?”

I shake my head and say

“I’m not doing anything. Just take off your shirt okay?”

She does so and I get on my knees in between her legs. I kiss her stomach and I say

“I love your stomach. I love your stomach whether it is skinny and tiny or thicker okay?”

I move down and kiss her thighs

“I love your thighs. Whether or not they have a gap okay?”

She nods her head and I start kissing all over her and I say

“I love every inch of you. Every single inch. You having gained a little weight means nothing to me because you’re so so beautiful.”

Then I stand up and kiss her forehead.

“I love your mind. Because deep down I know you are good. If you really weren’t good I would have left you a long time ago. But you are good. You can be good to everyone.”

She tears up and says

“I want to be good”

I smile and say

“You do?”

She nods and says

“But I don’t know how”

I smile and say

“I’ll help you with that. But you have to look at me first and say you’re pretty”

She hesitates and shakes her head. I raise an eyebrow so she rolls her eyes and sighs. Then she mumbles

“I’m pretty”

I smirk and say

“Now mean it”

Once she realizes she’s not getting out of it, she sighs and for real says

“I love my body. I am pretty”

I smile and say

“Good job baby. Now. Let’s talk about what you’re gonna do now okay?”

She nods her head and I say

“So obviously this Janis girl has been hurt by you.”

She nods her head and I continue

“What are you going to do about that?”

She hesitantly says

“I’m gonna apologize?”

I nod my head and say

“Good job baby. You’re gonna apologize and explain to her why you did it all those years.”

She shakes her head and looks at me with pleading eyes and says

“What if she doesn’t care and still hates me?”

I sigh and say

“That’s a very likely possibility Regina. She might hate you. And that’s okay. Sometimes you have to understand that if you apologized, although it doesn’t make what you did right, it means you were willing to reconcile with them. And if they don’t care then that becomes their problem because you did what you could.”

She nods her head and says

“What else am I gonna do?”

I think and say

“You’re gonna burn that”

I point to the burn book she has and she says

“Why?”

I sigh and say

“Gina. You heard me. That book has the ability to ruin someone’s life. Honestly if I was in it and whatever had been written about me had gotten out I’d probably have hurt myself. We don’t want anyone to do that because of us right?”

She nods her head a lot and says

“I don’t want them to hurt”

I nod and say

“So you’re gonna?”

She finishes

“I’m gonna burn it tonight”

I nod and say

“Good job baby”

Then she says

“Let’s do it now.”

I smile and say

“Okay. Let’s do it now.”

We go to the backyard and I grab some lighter fluid from the barbecue pit and Regina throws the burn book in the fire pit.

I hand her the lighter fluid and she squirts some onto it and then I take it and trade her for the lighter.

She turns to me not knowing how to light it and I give her a bit of fire starter and say

“Wanna record it?”

She nods so I grab my phone and she burns the book.

We sit and watch it turn into ashes and I give her a hug. She turns to me and says

“It kind of feels like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders”

I smile and say

“Good. It should feel that way.”

We put the rest of the fire out and go back inside.

“Okay y/n, what else do I have to do?”

I smile and say

“Well I’m taking you shopping. You can’t go back better than ever wearing the sweatpants that fit you right now. So we’re going to buy some cute clothes in your current size and you’re gonna own it”

She smiles and says

“Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We come back from the shopping spree with two bags in each hand

“That was amazing baby thank you for taking me and spoiling me”

I smile and say

“Anything for my love”

She smiles and then sets out an outfit for the next day.

I smile proudly and she turns around with a doubtful look.

“What if none of it works? What if everyone thinks I’m kidding when I start being nice? What if I don’t get any friends?”

I sigh and say

“It won’t matter. You’ll have me. I’ll always be here for you and next year I’ll be by your side. We are probably getting the same classes since we’re on the same course plan so we’ll have a lot of time together.”

She smiles and says

“Thanks baby you always know how to reassure me.”

I smile and nod.

“Of course baby. You deserve to know you’re not alone”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My school gets off on Fridays so I stayed home while Regina went to school.

She has been texting me all day asking for reassurance that she can do this. And I have nothing to do so I give it.

She is supposed to be talking to Janis this class period since they both have one class.

I told her to do it privately so nobody feels any pressure.

She calls me and I pick up.

“Regina? Baby are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m good!”

She sounds happy that’s a good sign.

“How’d it go?”

She giggles at someone who is talking to her and she says

“Janis and I talked it out and she’s so fun. I have been talking and laughing with her all period! Thank you for encouraging me to do this.”

I sigh and say

“Did you tell her about the burn book?”

She says

“Mhm. We talked about it and she said I was having problems with internalized homophobia”

I smile and say

“Yeah. That’s probably it. Than what happened?”

“We just started talking and it was like before! When we used to be best friends you know?”

I say

“Mhm”

And she continues

“Hey! So I have to go okay? I don’t want to get in trouble for having my phone out but I just wanted to say that Janis and I are gonna hang out tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah that’s fine. Wait before you go did you mean like you’re gonna hang out with her and then hang out with me?”

She giggles at that person again

Probably Janis

“Oh um. I think we’re gonna catch up like a bunch so probably not. We can hang out tomorrow night though right?”

I sigh and say

“Yeah that’s fine baby. Call me tonight?”

She laughs and says

“I will. I love you baby bye bye”

“I love you too bye”

We hang up and I throw my phone on the bed.

Of course I’m a little hurt. We were supposed to go on a date tonight. Like we do every Friday night. But it’s fine. She is just excited about Janis. And that’s okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My sister comes into my room in the afternoon and says

“You’re not going to Regina’s?”

I shake my head

“But it’s your date night?”

I smile and say

“She’s catching up with an old friend.”

She makes an oh face and leaves me be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve been watching movies all evening and it’s almost midnight. I do have to sleep eventually but Regina hasn’t called me yet.

I sigh and accept that she’s not gonna call me tonight so I turn off my tv and go to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up and check my phone to hopefully see some texts from Regina but nothing shows up.

Just a few emails and snap streaks.

I check all of Regina’s socials and I see her story.

She went to the movies with Janis to watch Inside Out 2.

We were supposed to watch that together.

I tear up because we had planned that since we first saw the trailers for it.

And she watched it without even a thought of me.

I get lost in my thoughts.

Maybe this was her thing the whole time. She bullied Janis because she liked her. And I was just someone to take her mind off of her. But she got her. And I am gonna be left. And after all I did for her? Are you kidding me?! I helped her. I love her. I have so much up for her. And she’s just gonna drop me for this girl?!

I didn’t realize until my phone started ringing that I am crying.

It’s Regina. I check the time and see it’s noon.

I wipe my tears and make myself a little more presentable even though she can’t see me and I pick up.

“Wow baby. You usually pick up after the first ring”

I laugh and cover up the fact that I was just crying and say

“I was in the bathroom sorry”

She hums and says

“How was your night?”

I sigh and say

“It was fine”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you. It’s just Janis and I had so much fun and she decided to stay over at my house last night and I felt like I would be a bad friend if I called my girlfriend while she was there.”

“It’s okay Gina. I get it. I just wish you texted me”

“I know I just got caught up and had so much fun and forgot. I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.”

After a pause I decided to bring up the movie and say

“So… you and Janis went to the movies last night?”

She hums and says

“Yeah it was so much fun. You would have loved it.”

I feel another tear coming and I suck it up.

“Yeah. What did you guys watch?”

“We watched.. inside out 2”

She trails off when she realizes what we were supposed to do next week. But before she says anything I say

“So you’re cancelling next week? I mean. It would be kind of wasteful to just watch it again right? Waste of time.”

She sighs and says

“I’m so sorry y/n. I completely forgot. Janis had asked me and I just said yes without thinking. We can still go if you want to?”

I say

“No it’s okay. I’ll watch it when it comes out on Netflix or something. I don’t like the movies anyways.”

Lie. I love the movies.

“Huh. I thought you loved the movies?”

I huff and say

“It’s fine.”

She says

“Janis left a few minutes ago and I called as soon as I could.”

I hum and say

“Oh that’s nice. I’m glad you’re catching up with her”

She then says

“Yeah. Want to hang out today?”

“Uhh I don’t know, I’m kinda busy today. I have a lot of chores to do.”

“Oh. Well I could help you with them! Then we could spend time together and they’ll be finished faster so we can hang out!”

I reluctantly give in. I kind of don’t want to hang out with her since I’m hurt but maybe it’ll be easier to explain to her in person.

“Sure. Come over”

“Okay!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regina gets to my house and immediately hugs me. I melt into her embrace and say

“Thanks for coming.”

“Of course! Anything to hang out with my person!”

I smile awkwardly and just walk back to my chores.

I start folding clothes and Regina tries to talk to me.

“So. What did you do this morning?”

“Slept in”

“Oh. Um did you sleep alright?”

“I slept fine”

“Okay. Did you have a good day yesterday?”

I sigh and say

“Not really”

This is the perfect set up to tell her how I feel. I need to communicate with her better.

“Oh. Why wasn’t it good?”

I fold the last shirt I have and pick up my pile and take it to my room and Regina follows me.

“I don’t know”

I get scared and shut down a bit but Regina knows this play

“Don’t do that. Tell me why it wasn’t good baby”

I put my clothes in my drawer and pick up some shoes and put them in my closet. I end up picking some stuff up and I’m on my knees by my shoes.

I try to say something but nothing comes out. So Regina peeks her head in and says

“Hello?”

I turn from my spot on the ground and tear up slightly.

“Oh baby! Don’t cry! What happened?”

She comes and sits down next to me in my now cramped closet.

“I don’t know. I’m having a hard time saying it”

“I understand that. Take your time baby. I’m here”

I sigh and smile slightly when I realize she has picked up my words from when we were in this situation but reversed.

“I guess- I- ugh this is so hard”

I run my hands through my hair and Regina just listens. She gives me a reassuring look and I feel better about telling her.

“I am hurt I guess. By you. See I love that you are rekindling a friendship that you lost a long time ago but it’s not like you to dip on me okay!”

She furrows her eyebrows and says

“Dip? We didn’t have any plans last night did we?”

I sigh and say

“It was Friday last night. We always make plans. Remember? It was your week to plan it. But that’s not even the only thing. You dipped on me, which I said it was fine because I knew you were excited about being friends with her again, then you didn’t call me like you said you would. And to top it all off I woke up this morning to see you watched a movie with her that we had plans to watch together! I’m just really hurt that you didn’t remember all of that.”

She looks down feeling bad that she did all of that.

“I’m so sorry y/n”

I look at her and say

“It’s fine. I’m just being over dramatic.”

I wipe my tears and go to get up but she grabs me and says

“No. It’s not fine. You should be my priority. But you were not last night. I got so caught up in me and Janis that I completely forgot about you. And that’s not okay. I should have remembered that you and I were going to watch the movie. I should have remembered to call you. But I didn’t.”

I sigh and say

“I’m sorry I just am jealous I guess. I feel like you never act like this and I got scared that you’d leave me for her because you didn’t want me to begin with. I thought maybe you had wanted Janis but didn’t know if you could have her but you knew you could have me”

She laughs and shakes her head

“No baby. I love you so much. I had a lapse of judgment last night. And I apologize. I don’t like Janis like that. Thank goodness. But I won’t leave you. Ever. And by the way. I really appreciate you telling me this. It can take a lot and you’re helping our relationship be better by communicating with me.”

I smile and say

“Thank you baby I’m sorry I got so worked up. I just let my thoughts get to me.”

She nods and says

“I can relate to that”

I smile and say

“So. What do we do now?”

I look around and she does too. We’re still on the floor of my cramped closet and she says

“I guess we cuddle and watch a movie together?”

I smile and say

“I like that idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: this totally went the opposite of what I planned but it’s fine 😚 it’s cute either way. I hope y’all liked it!!

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

[ang3lc]

Uhhhh I'll have some tipsy Soap flirting with reader in a pub for four-hundred, please, except she's having none of his yakety-yacking away, knowing what snakes these military guys can be, and he's desperately trying to convince her otherwise.

(Tell me why she starts to believe that, by the end of the night, he's different from the rest?) 🧡 🫡

oh you can have that for FREE, keep your money.

thank you for feeding my brain rot pooks <3

>> johnny x fem!reader, readers sassy and johnny's drunk, what could go wrong?

It’s just another Friday night at the pub. You’re tucked into a corner booth, drink in hand, halfway through your night out alone and perfectly content to keep it that way - until a man with a lopsided grin and a... rather obnoxious Scottish accent stumbles his way to your booth.

"Oi, lassie!" He grins, his words slurring ever so slightly as he props himself against the back of the seat opposite you. "Mind if I join ye? Seems a shame ye’re sittin’ here all on yer lonesome."

You raise an eyebrow, unamused. “And why’s that your business?”

He chuckles, moving to sit in the seat and lean on the table with all the confidence of a guy who’s had one too many. “Because, bonnie… yer the most bonnie one 'ere.” He says it with a drunken, pleased grin, like he’s just discovered the cleverest line known to man.

“Right...” You look back at your drink, expecting him to take the hint. He doesn’t.

He grins, not expecting a cold reception. “No problem, love. Just thinkin’ ye shouldn’t be drinkin’ alone.” He moves to stand but wobbles and stumbles back into the worn seat. “See! Even the Universe want me tae stay, Bon.” he says with a playful chuckle, “Ye’re gonna make me beg, aren’t ye?”

You lean back, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but I’m about 200% sure begging isn’t on the agenda.”

He laughs, not at all put off by your lack of interest. He’s definitely had a few too many, but there’s something about his warm smile and blue eyes that almost makes you forget how over the top this all feels. “Ach, lass, no beggin’ here. Let m' introduce m’self. Name’s Johnny. And ye are?”

You stare at him for a second, trying to decide if he’s serious or if you’re about to be the victim of some smooth talker’s latest attempt. His eyes sparkle, like he knows exactly how much of a mess he’s making of things, but he’s enjoying it anyway.

“Not interested,” you say, but your voice softens just a touch.

“Aw, come on,” he says, with a laugh that’s a little too loud for the pub. “Ye won’t give me yer name? Don’t worry, bonnie, I’m no’ one o’ those daft lads ye’ve met before.”

“Oh really?” You cross your arms, amused in spite of yourself. “How do you figure that?”

He leans in, eyes gleaming with a tipsy sort of enthusiasm. “Because-" He taps his chest, struggling to find the words. “I’m a right soldier, I am. Not just some daft, smooth-talkin’ bloke. Special forces.” He gives a very sloppy, exaggerated wink. “I’m actually kinda a big deal.”

You can’t help the faint chuckle that escapes you. “Yeah, right. Special forces, huh? And what exactly do you specialize in—charm or making an ass of yourself?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, clearly amused. “Aye, both, lass. But ye’ll find my charm’s no’ the sort to wear off that quick.” He pats his chest, then waves a hand dismissively as if brushing off your skepticism.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Johnny, if you think a cute accent and a drunk pick-up line are going to win me over, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than that.”

Johnny shrugs, his cockiness fading just a little, replaced by something more genuine. “Aye, maybe I’m a bit tipsy,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “But even a bloke like me can tell when he’s met a right lass. I’m just here for a chat, and... ye called m'cute.”

You raise an eyebrow, not sure if you want to let him off the hook so easily. “You think I’m stupid or something?” The words slip out before you can stop them, but after a beat, you relent with a small sigh. “I called your accent cute. Not you.” You bite back a smile, watching him closely, wondering if he’s being honest or just playing the game.

Johnny looks at you, brow furrowing, his smile faltering for a moment. “No, I—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. His face flushes slightly, and you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or the shift in tone. “Look, I get why ye’d think that. But I promise ye, lass, I’m no’ that guy.”

“Well,” you say slowly, “I’m still not sure about you.” You give him a teasing smile, trying to keep the mood light. “But you’re certainly more interesting than most.”

Johnny grins, the joy of a drunken man creeping back in. “Aye, I knew it! Just one drink, just tae see if I can win ye over?”

You roll your eyes, half-laughing, half-skeptical. “You’re something, Johnny. But don’t think this means I’m buying you another drink... Lord knows you don't need it.”

“Aye, just wait,” he winks, clearly undeterred. “I’ll win ye over yet, bonnie.”

As he leans back in the seat opposite you, looking pleased with himself, you, against your better judgement, signal the bartender.

mlist

[diremoone]

written in fine print | r. sukuna

moving to japan to get a breath of fresh air was supposed to be one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. it still may be, but now you’ve got a problem and you don’t know what to do about it. the problem? ryomen sukuna, one of the wealthiest men on the planet, being… enamored with you. you’ve come fairly far with him as “friends” while keeping him at bay, but after you both spend christmas together, you know that things have changed. and come the first day of the new year comes a surprise that forces you to face your bottled-up truth.

[ Ryomen Sukuna Masterlist ] | part three

w — slowburn, age gap, modern au, older man/younger woman, fluff, mild? angst, this time we get reader’s pov bc it’s time ;3, insecure! reader, self-indulgence, A KISS (but just one for now sorry y’all), reader and sukuna lay their feelings on the table (I’m sorry I couldn’t help but finally get to this part), sukuna gets kinda prose-y lmao, slightly unsatisfied with this fic but I hope y’all enjoy anyway, sprinkle of bittersweet at the end

God, have mercy upon my soul.

The dozens of text messages from your cousin have you sitting on the edge of your bed in absolute disbelief. You haven’t even had any coffee yet, or any sort of something in your stomach. It’s sheer willpower keeping you from throwing up the stomach acid in your belly.

But you do need something. You make your way into the kitchen and nab the biscuits you made yesterday from the bag they were in. You shouldn’t, but you eat all four of them anyway. Then you drink something.

You were wondering why everything was going too good, why life had been so… easy as of late. Now you understood why. It was the calm before the storm. It was the universe allowing you to have some semblance of peace before it decided to throw you into the pit of mental and emotional turmoil that you’d been so great at avoiding.

Why in the world did the universe decide to put Ryomen Sukuna into your life?

That’s the question you have been asking yourself over and over again ever since you decided to take him up on the offer of a first date six months ago. Even worse, why did you even think it was a remotely good idea to get involved with someone over ten years older than you? Universe aside, you should’ve had the good judgement to keep Sukuna away. Your good intuition was something you’d always prided yourself on, so why did you decide to even let Sukuna keep coming around?

You go back to your room and get the phone, rereading over the messages. One in particular your eyes stay on:

A benefactor has paid for nana’s care and set her up in a really fancy, upscale care and rehabilitation facility here. They came and got her this morning to transfer her. When I asked about it, someone from registration said it was a gift for you. Who the fuck did you meet in Japan? 5:16 am

And you know, deep within your soul and in your gut that Sukuna was behind this. There’s no one you know that has the money to pull off something like taking your grandmother from where she was to a facility where she’s going to get more constant help, cleaned, proper rehabilitation. No one else but him.

The coffee maker suddenly beeps, beginning to brew a fresh pot of coffee. You almost jump out of your skin from it. You wait until it’s done before digging out one of the banana nut muffins Shoko brought over two nights ago to pre-celebrate the new year.

You truly don’t know what to feel. You’re unsure about everything. Coming to Japan to get a breath of fresh air from the strain your old life was supposed to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made. But now, all it’s become is a whirlwind of even more, even deeper emotional confusion.

Meeting Yuuji was great. Meeting his older brother? The entire source of the emotional confusion.

You lean against the counter and gaze outside. The snow has finally ceased and you’re sure dozers are out clearing the roads. You can’t help but fall into your thoughts.

For awhile, you’ve had… feelings. You’re not quite sure what they are, but you know that they revolve around the older, rich man you’ve befriended. You know that whenever he’s around, you feel more… open, lighter even. You know he makes you feel flustered, to which you’ve learned to seal said fluster inside of a bottle and remain indifferent in his presence. Every time he looks at you or speaks to you, it makes you feel… giddy. Happy, dare you say it.

And it’s something you swallow down and hide every time it bubbles to the surface, fearing that it’ll be nothing more than the same story as your mother: a heart broken by the letdown of not ever being enough, not being what the man actually wanted, and not being genuinely cared for.

The mug of coffee in your hands grows hot, almost scalding against the skin of your palms. It brings you out of your own mind, just in time to hear your phone vibrate with more text messages, all still from your cousin.

Because apparently fate dropped a man in your lap that was more than ready to give you anything and everything you’ve ever wanted: unconditional love on a gold platter; fate decided that you finally deserve a break from strife and grief, that you deserved to stop eating humble pie, because lord knows you’ve done choked and damn near suffocated on that shit; that you deserved to be cherished and loved and made to be someone’s number one in their life.

You know. You fucking know what Sukuna does to you, how he makes you feel inside. You also know how he wants to treat you and the things he wants to do to you. And perhaps with you, if your gut instinct is right and he wants more than a body to warm his bed.

Who are you kidding? You know you’re right.

But it’s unfortunate for you that all you’ve learned to do is bottle up your feelings and act like they don’t exist. Because you’ve never been loved, not romantically anyway. Especially not like this, from someone like this.

How were you supposed to love? What did it really mean to be in a relationship? You’ve never been in one. Not one that ever really was going to go as far as this. Was what you were feeling all temporary? And if you did get into a relationship, what if he didn’t like you when you got comfortable? What if he didn’t like it when you laughed too hard, or any of the habits you have? What if he was just wanting to play savior and ended up leaving you a few months from now?

You toss your head back and groan. Why? Why was this happening to you?

You opt to spend the day inside, rather than go out like you had planned. You have to text Shoko and Utahime, letting them know that you’re not going to be able to participate in their plans of going out and visiting shrines for the new year. The latter is reasonably mad, but Shoko calms her down in the group chat. Although she does make an innuendo about spending the day with someone else “cozied up in bed” rather than them. You send her a side eye emoji in return on her personal thread.

You change out of your pajamas and into some casual clothes — a dark red long sleeve and some black sweatpants, switching to house socks to regular socks — despite not intending to go out for the day. You do end up on the couch for most of the day, switching your attention from the TV and the messages on your phone more than you care to admit. You hardly eat, and don’t realize it until you can feel your stomach against your spine each time.

All day is basically wasted in front of the television, trapped in your own mind. Trapped in the whirlwind that Sukuna has made of your heart and emotions.

You graze through your entire stock of sweets in less than a day, uncaring if it was unhealthy. Dusk settles on the horizon before you know it and you’re anything but tired. In fact, you’re wide awake.

“What do I do…?” you ask into the open air. You feel stupid doing it, but apparently fate has a response for you.

It’s 9:18 at night when several strong knocks rap at your door.

It’s 9:20 when you decide to finally answer the door.

It’s 9:24 when you realize you’ve got a guest at the front door, the very same man who’s been making you question yourself and your whole life ever since coming to this country.

It’s 9:30 when you question to yourself why you let him in. You didn’t think it through, that much you’re sure of. How could you be when he’s thrown your heart all topsy-turvy and mushed it into goo?

Just looking at him from his back floods your mind and makes your heart race, something you hope you’re able to hide by what you hope is a face of indifference and calmness. You can see the tattoos peek out from his turtleneck, and you have to gulp down your nervousness.

The large mug of fruity tea you’ve poured has now chilled, the ice just barely clinking in the glass. You quickly open the cookie jar on the counter and shove two snickerdoodles in your mouth to stress-eat being prepared for what was coming next.

“I…” you begin, and embarrassingly realize you have to swallow the cookies to talk. “I wasn’t expecting you to… show up.”

Sukuna’s silent for a moment, then replies stoically, “Neither was I.”

You gaze at him longer than you intend to. Your attention is mostly on his tattoos, the little bits that are peeking out from the deep crimson of his form-fitting turtleneck. You watch him readjust the watch on his wrist, partially revealing the tattoo inked onto his wrist. To your surprise, Sukuna actually doesn’t like showing off his tats. He used to in his younger years; he’s still proud of them, but he isn’t as much into flaunting them to the world nowadays.

Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through the air. “Have you… gotten my gift?”

You bite your lower lip. You nod even though he can’t see you. “Yeah… If you mean the one involving my grandmother, then yes.”

“I do apologize if I crossed any lines doing such a thing,” he says. “But I don’t regret it.”

“I can imagine you don’t,” you reply, knowing full-well that him regretting anything was a very rare occurrence. “But… Why? Why would you do that? Go through such trouble to help me… and my family? Just… Why?”

His ginormous frame turns to face you to look into your eyes and answer with nothing short of honesty, “Because I want you to be cared for. I’ve seen happiness in your eyes and I want to keep you happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”

“Buying my love will only get you so far,” you say.

“I know. I want to do more for you. I want… to be more for you. Not just… this. Whatever we have going on,” Sukuna admits casually, crossing his burly arms over his chest. But he doesn’t make eye contact. In fact, he keeps his eyes to the floor, away from your gaze. “I know what I want, although I’m not quite sure how to describe everything I feel… when I’m with you and when I think about you. It’s… I know what it is, I’m pretty sure, but at the same time… I don’t.”

“It’s new for you,” you mumble. Surprisingly, he actually hears you and nods. He doesn’t lie. Not with you.

“I’ve been with many women over the years, all for the same reason. I’ve never felt like falling in love or that it would ever matter. I know lust, I know what comes with that. With you, it’s anything but. At first, yes. But your immediate rejection, you continuing to keep your distance from me and your distaste known made me stop and think.”

You raise your brows. “All it took was a girl with some strong boundaries to make you realize you can’t live off being just horny for then rest of your life?”

Sukuna laughs. He actually laughs. A bright smile crosses his handsome face as his shoulders shake with laughter. He tries to cover it up with a hand, but all it does it muffle it into loud chuckles. It takes a good couple minutes before his chuckles finally fall into a simple smile of amusement. That’s when you admit your own truths. If you were going to be hurt, you might as well get it over with.

“In a way,” Sukuna admits. And then he admits even more, opening his heart and putting it on his sleeve. “You’ve reminded me that there is more to life, that I can be genuinely happy beyond office walls and red light districts. You have made me remember what feeling excited, what being on my toes feels like. You make the air lighter… happier, every time I see you. You… I care for you.”

Sukuna’s last words of admission are watered-down and you both know it. Then again, he says he is new to these kinds of feelings. And at this point, you believe him. You wonder if he knows that you’re just like him — exactly the same: that you’re new to the feelings of love, what it means to be in love. It’s confusing, really. You’re not sure where to begin when it comes to saying the things that Sukuna has seemingly had no problem admitting to you. You can’t just say, “Ditto” and make out with him.

Well, you could, but that’s beside the point.

You swallow the frog in your throat and look at him. He isn’t looking at you but at the ground, almost like he’s unsure of himself.

“You’ve made yourself a cozy place inside me, too,” you speak softly. Your hands don’t leave the mug as you set it on the counter. “We’ve only known each other for barely half a year, you know? You make me wonder if what I’m feeling is love, most of the time. I enjoy you; I enjoy your company. I enjoy the thrill you bring into my life. I… enjoy how weightless you make the world feel. I… I like the thought of being… prioritized. I’m just… confused on whether or not these feelings are rooted in love or something else entirely.”

“And I apologize for making you feel that way,” he replies. “That isn’t my intention.”

You’re quick to your words before he can continue. “Don’t apologize. Please. It’s not your fault. I… I’ve never been in a relationship. I don’t know what love is or what it’s supposed to feel like. I’ve never been loved, and I’m not quite sure how to reciprocate it. I’m afraid I’ll fuck up. Say the wrong thing, not do something right.”

Sukuna’s brows furrow. “There is no right or wrong way to be in a relationship — just yourself.”

“I’ve heard that, just as much as I’ve heard otherwise.”

Silence fills your apartment. You tap your nails against the glass mug, little tinks! resounding. You can’t look at Sukuna now. Not after just admitting to having never been in a romantic relationship. Now, you must seem more of your age than you ever have in his eyes.

“Any insecurity you have is not invalid. I would never disrespect them,” Sukuna finally says, sheer conviction making you shiver.

The giant man stands to take his place not even a foot from you. Magnetism draws you to his face and you cannot look away. His hand comes up and brushes his large fingers across your cheek.

And like an open book, he reads you from the front cover to the very last word, reading off your exterior cover and the interior pages you’ve hidden away. “You’ve carved yourself from early maturity, into someone that your loved ones have needed you to be. You’ve never been able to truly be yourself, be free. You’ve always had to be the rock that everyone has needed, when no one has been for you. You desire to be loved, but not at the expense of heartbreak nor sacrificing the person you’ve molded yourself into for the people you love. You desire to be free above all else, not wanting to be loved unless there’s someone who can love you and give you your freedom at the same time.”

You gape, eyes almost as wide as saucers with your eyelids lined with burning tears. You dip your head and sniffle.

“I want that. I want that for you. I want to be the one to give that to you,” Sukuna continues. “The time we spent together not even a week ago, I want more of that. I no longer want to live the way I’ve been living. I want to live with you, do those kinds of things with you. That sounds corny as fuck coming from me of all people, but that’s the truth.”

You can’t help but laugh. His tone of exasperation at himself was just too funny not to.

“And what happens when you give me those things? Will you be done with me? Move on to the next person?” you ask. “Once you’ve played the part of the savior, won’t those feelings end?”

“I’ll never be done with you,” he answers instantaneously, like it was nothing short of law. “You’ve captivated me, all of me. I’ve already tried pulling myself away a multitude of times. But then one little word of anything about you and you’re all I think about for the rest of the day.”

You sniffle again and laugh. “Did you practice this? You sound like a poet.”

“I can be one if you’d like.” You giggle at that. It’s silly, but you feel like Sukuna would oblige you if you said yes. “But I mean it, every word.”

You nod and whisper, “I know you do.” Because it’s the truth. He’ll never not mean anything he says. Brutal honesty is apart of Sukuna.

The emptiness of your apartment is deafening, it’s silence almost palpable to the point where you feel like you might being to suffocate. But large, firm hands cup your cheeks and bring oxygen into your lungs again.

His hands are warm, so warm. The feeling of being touched like this, so intimately, makes all the blood flow to your cheeks to the point where you think you’ll overheat.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, tone quiet, voice deep and baritone that makes shivers roll up your spine. “At least once?”

You can’t help but bite into your lower lip. The suffocating feeling has returned, just for a different reason. But your instinct goes first — action taking the initiative over the brain — and you nod once more, mumbling out a small “yes” that you chastise yourself for being so meek.

Sukuna’s free arm wraps around your waist and gently pulls you to your tippy-toes. You’re running on instinct, one hand resting on his chest, the other circling behind his neck, eyelids slowly closing as he dives in for the kiss you’ve allowed. And when his hand cradles the back of your head, his lips meet yours, and you swear to everything from heaven to hell that you’re about to explode and die in this man’s arms.

Everything feels like it’s on fire… until it doesn’t. That fire slowly simmers down to a gentle flame, one that brings a sense of contentment.

Sukuna tilts his head, moving your lips and deepening the kiss. You allow it, and it feels like the kiss has sunk to a new depth of desire. Dare you even think or say it be devotion. His lips are warm and sweet on yours; his kiss isn’t one of urgency, but perhaps the desperation of longing. It’s not slow and controlling, not greedy. Whatever this kiss is and all the emotions contained within, you know it makes you at peace and content.

Everything feels perfect.

You both part for air, lips slow to disconnect. You can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed being so out of breath, but hearing the slight heaviness of breath coming from the large man makes you feel less awkward.

“Thought you said you hadn’t been in a relationship before?”

Your reply is breathless, “Never have.”

“Then you must be a naturally good kisser.”

That makes you laugh. You press your head to his chest and giggle away, to which you hear what you think is a chuckle from his throat.

It’s 11:20 at night by the time you look at the clock again. It’s too late for Sukuna to go home. That’s the excuse you use anyway. He’s seemingly more than happy to use the excuse right along with you to spend a night with you.

Come morning, however, things shift back to the way they were before: confusing and lonely. The couch was just as empty as the apartment. Under you was not Sukuna’s body, but a stack of pillows from your bedroom.

The note on the counter about being called in for an important meeting doesn’t do his absence justice either, instead sending every one of your walls back up, twice as high and just as thick as they were before.

Your phone dings with new messages. Utahime and Shoko, both of which declare they’re coming over to drag your ass out of your apartment to go shopping like you should’ve yesterday.

You text them back, telling them you’ll meet them at the mall, that you’re going to get ready and this time you aren’t going to miss out.

You don’t know what to do or what to think. You don’t know if one night of vulnerability means anything more than just being open with another human being. All you know is that you need a break, from yourself, your confusion, from life, and especially from Sukuna.

You need the clarity of a shopping trip and good friends for company, because your hopes for what’s coming next are getting far too high and you’re beginning to really fall in love with Sukuna Ryomen.

taglist: (no longer adding)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @yuujispinkhair | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss

[the-flaneur]

hello my very helpful assistant 😄 flan's busy cooking up something in her dru- sorry, very ethical laboratory. anyways, here's how you can help her today:

ENTER ONLY ONE OF THE FOLLOWING LABS

LAB ONE

☆ write a brief description of what you want the request to feature (can include smut, kinks, dialogue and more) as well as the driver

LAB TWO

☆ from below - pick a flask, choose a label, select up to four chemical compounds, choose up to three catalysts and call out who the other assistant is (driver: im down to do anyone or the grid or "recently" retired)

☆ NOTE: the final item is very important, so please never forget it, otherwise flan won't be able to start the reaction

SOME REQUESTS WILL BE 18+ and ALL REQUESTS will available under the tag (see below) #chemical attraction ♥︎

all of your concoctions/requests can be made to my asks or inbox (here), and i'll get to producing it as soon as possible.

EXAMPLE REQUESTS

hi flan! with lewis hamilton and a boiling flask labeled with a sticker i am looking to mix together, fluorine, calcium, arsenic with nail polish.

thank you <3

flask

conical: fluff

boiling: smut

round-bottom: hurt/comfort

label

sticker: fic

marker: drabble

washi tape: smau

ribbon: texts

hairtie: combination (please specify)

chemical compounds

hydrogen: "oh, shut up." "you shut up." "make me." "okay, but you might moan a little."

helium: "i'm not the jealous type, but what's mine is mine. end of story."

lithium: "don't kink shame me"

beryllium: "we shouldn’t do this" "you’re absolutely right. we should not do this"

boron: "you're so cute when you pout like this"

carbon: "move my arm is falling asleep"

nitrogen: "the problem is, if i kissed you, i don't think i'd be able to stop."

oxygen: "you've ruined that song now, thanks."

fluorine: "don't talk with your mouth full"

neon: "if you can’t take it, why did you talk back"

sodium: "fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.”

magnesium: "is it really that hard to love me?"

aluminium: "why aren't you dating him?" "because i'd destroy him" "he seems like he'd be into that"

silicon: "i know they're just stuffed animals, but it feels like they're watching us"

phosphorus: "you know, i could always get you off here right now"

sulfur: "you deserve so much better than me" "stop lying"

chlorine: "give me a little show"

argon: "why are you being like this?"

potassium: "watch you mouth before i decide to spank your ass"

calcium: "it's going to sound controversial, but i think that went well"

scandium: "oh my god are you actually reading the terms of service?"

titanium: "the next time you pull something like this, i'm telling your mother what we did in vegas that one time"

vanadium: "if you don't like being called a whore, then stop acting like one."

chromium: "everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you."

manganese: "i might have slept with your shirt while you were gone"

iron: "i'm not moving, your lap is comfortable"

cobalt: "please..." "you need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? tell me what you really want,"

nickel: “are you my cum dump?”

copper: "you're not allowed to touch my pussy"

zinc: "you could've just told me"

gallium: "are you trying to flirt with me?" "is it working?"

germanium: "if i buy it, will you stop pouting?"

arsenic: "you're just mad that that my cock fits perfectly in you now. must be a blow to the ego that we're a perfect match."

selenium: "how long have you been covering/covering up this?"

bromine: "you're like my arm rest'

krypton: "i know i'm warm, but we really have to get up now"

rubidium: "you’re starting another cult. you bitch."

strontium: "it’s broad daylight, if someone looks up they'll see you pressed against the window."

yttrium: "you're not alone i promise"

zirconium: "im sorry but i'm done waiting"

niobium: "i promised to give you something, but i didn't promise it would be an orgasm."

molybdenum: "i'm bad at texting, so i always hope that you're the first one"

technetium: "let me take care of it. let me take care of everything"

ruthenium: "is it a bad time to tell you i have [your phobia]"

rhodium: "im so horrible to you" "no you're not"

palladium: "why is there rope next to the bed"

silver: "i don’t want to be able to walk tomorrow.”

cadmium: "you dumbass, don't ever do that again"

indium: "would you like to explain..." "no, but maybe there is something I could do to make you forget about it?"

tin: "i know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that.”

antimony: "after all this time and you still can't look me in the eye"

tellurium: "i can't remember the last time i did something so fun with someone"

iodine: "i was expecting a written apology, but this is so much better"

xenon: "i have a headache and it looks just like you.”

cesium: "stop throwing things at me"

barium: "do you really think you can get away from me?"

lanthanum: "do you trust me" "no" "smart"

cerium: "i like the way your hand fits mine"

praseodymium: "because i care about you"

neodymium: "i trusted you...with everything"

promethium: "if you stay, you'll get hurt too"

samarium: "would you have believed me if i did?"

europium: "don't make promises i know you can't keep"

gadolinium: "can you please just hold me?"

terbium: "can i bother you for a sec?" "you always bother me, but go ahead"

dysprosium: "you cancelled plans for me?"

holmium: "my clothes look better on you that they do on me"

erbium: "i dont like it" "you don't like anything" "well i like you and [you specify]"

thulium: "no tickling, or no kisses"

ytterbium: "did i mean anything to you?"

luteium: "does your daddy know you call me daddy too?"

actinium: "n-no, don't cry. i hate it when you cry"

thorium: "but you have me now"

protactinium: "please don't go"

uranium: "i’m literally naked on your bed and you’re talking about work?”

neptunium: "you're hurt, let me take care of you"

plutonium: "you're staring" "i like seeing you happy"

americium: "stay...please"

curium: "i...i just needed to know you were ok"

berkelium: "you'll back off if you know what's good for you"

californium: "didn't you say we were friends"

einsteinium: "this is why we can't have nice things"

fermium: "not out here please"

catalyst

flan: au [request a specific one]

red pill: sub!character

blue pill: sub!reader

glue: dom!reader

lip balm: dom!character

lemon juice: driver!reader

sand: idiots in love/denial

salt water: crack fic

bath water: size kink

soap: exes to...

bubbles: fix it fic/sickfic

nail polish: daddy kink

shampoo: overstimulation

lotion: possessive/jealous sex

slime: accidentally launching relationship

copper coin: cnc/dubcon

flowers: leaving the window open/door unlocked

silver jewellery: age gap

gold jewellery: miscommunication

rock: neighbours

paper: love triangle

plastic bag: enemies to...

tissue: rivals to...

ink: 100% platonic friendship

foam: found family

water babies: secret admirer

ceramic: forced proximity

yarn: roommates

water: childhood friends to...

fruit: married couple/established relationship

beads: fake relationship

heat: brother's best friend

ice: best friend's brother

bark: body swap

grass: reverse tropes [specify]

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[yanderederee]

LittleSnack

a/n:ive been eating a lot lately, and getting a little insecure about it.. so here’s some comfort♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

“You packed way too much food again!”

Your friend said in an appalled tone.

Atsushi Murasakibara’s ears perked at the mention of too much food, immediately lifting his head up from his previously sleeping position. Looking over at you right away, he stared down your loaded bento.

His mouth watered. Grilled beef, a side of fragrant pan noodles, dumplings, and … leftover Bibimbap. Now his mouth was watering ….

Of course, Murasakibara had finished his lunch long ago. Now that it was lunch though, he was sort of regretting it. No matter how many times he regrets eating his lunch too soon, he always does it again the next day…

“You eat like that everyday y/n… pretty soon, you’re gonna start gaining even more weight…” your friend continued with a judgmental overlook.

You laughed off her rude comment. “You know I’m not worried about that kind of stuff. I just have a big appetite.”

Your defense fell on deaf ears as your friend sighed. “Can’t you just use a normal excuse, like ‘I accidentally made too much!’ And offer the rest of what you shouldn’t eat to someone you like?”

You paused eating upon her words, annoyance prickling your good mood. “I don’t need to make an excuse for my eating habits… I’m happy just the way I am.” You replied calmly, continuing your lunch with a bit more attitude.

Murasakibara, overheating the entire thing, smirked. He’d always had a little bit of an admiration towards you and your large appetite. It was rare to find a girl who ate as much as you. But since he was never all that interested in girls, he made no effort in learning more about you than that.

Seeing this new side of you was nice. He liked the way you stood up for yourself, and took pride in the way you were. Not to mention, the food you brought in always looked homemade. He couldn’t help but wonder if you made it yourself.

“Whatever, just trying to look out for you.” Your friend shrugged, and kept silent about the subject.

Murasakibara glanced at you, instead of your food, and noticed a weird look on your face. Even after you finished the entirety of your bento, you still looked unsatisfied.

The food looked great, and he couldn’t imagine you’d still be hungry. Maybe you were; he was often still hungry after any meal he had too. That’s why he snacked so much, anyway.

That had to be it, you were snacky. No matter how delicious the food you had was, it was true you had nothing sweet.

Dessert was the most important part of a meal, after all.

Without realizing the meaning behind his actions before acting on them, he began searching his snack-school bag for what he had on him.

Four bags of different chips, three mambo sticks, two rice cakes, a few handfuls of Sakura mochi candies, a bag of hi-chew, and two red bean buns.

Looking at the assortment made his mouth water. He was definitely going to indulge in some snacks as well. Reaching in, he pulled out a bag of chips, a mambo stick, four Sakura mochi, a handful of hichew, and a red bean bun. He honestly had no idea what kind of food or snacks you liked, so he just grabbed a little bit of everything.

Hauling the load in his stupidly large hands, he quietly walked over to your desk. You were sitting alone now with your bento neatly put away, since lunch was only a minute from ending.

“Y/n-chin…” your classmate said in a deadpan tone, before laying the snacks out on your desk. Your eyes bulged wide in shock. Your mouth fell open, confused. Speechless, you craned your neck up to look at your tall classmate. “M-Murasakibara-kun…?” You asked.

He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You looked hungry… teach yells at me if she catches me snacking during class though, so careful not go get caught…” he looked away after catching your glistening gaze.

Why was he suddenly embarrassed?

“Y-you didn’t have to! I couldn’t..” you tried to offer the snacks back, but he already started walking away. “Eat them all y/n-chin~”

And just as he sat back in his seat, the class bell rang to start lessons. Crap, he was gonna have to sneak-snack again.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Murasakibara was putting away his school materials, careful not to squish any of the snacks inside. “M-Murasakibara-kun…” you said quietly while standing over his desk. With an unimpressed glance, he looked at you, practically at each other’s height even though he was sitting.

“Thanks for the snacks today… they were really good.” You smiled at him. “I don’t have anything to repay you though, so…”

You looked down at your fidgeting fingers. “I-if you don’t mind, I’d like to cook you something. I-I always accidentally make too much food at home, enough for an extra bento or two… so, if there’s anything you’d like, I’d be happy to make something for you.”

As if buffering, Murasakibara sat unmoving in silence. Well, this was a surprise. He wasn’t sure how he should respond. He didn’t offer you the snacks to get something out of you, but he’d be lying if he didn’t want to eat your cooking.

“Really?” He asked.

You nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely!”

“You’re sure?” He asked again.

You laughed heartily at this. He wasn’t sure what was so funny, but your continued laughter was making him feel some type of way. It made him smile, like he was happy or something.

“Yes I’m sure! Do you have any requests?” You asked after finally getting your giggling under control.

Murasakibara looked up, and hummed in thought. “Anything I want…. That’s a dangerous question y/n-chin, since I like everything…”

You hummed in unison, and thought. “Buttered chicken?”

“Sounds yummy.”

“Sautéed carrots?”

His nose wrinkled. “Hate carrots.”

You giggled. “No carrots. Pork dumplings?”

“Sure…”

“Muchim?”

“As long as it isn’t too spicy.”

Satisfied, you nodded, and pulled your bag over your shoulder in preparation to leave. “Look forward to it, then!”

Murasakibara wasn’t sure why, but he felt the urge to call out for you when you began to walk away. He didn’t though, remained sitting while he watched you leave.

“What was that about?” Himuro asked suddenly, scaring the purple giant half to death. “Nothin’” he huffed in reply.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

The next day, Murasakibara almost forgot about yesterday’s events. He forgot things pretty easily. As he put his shoes away, he began thinking about if he’d have enough time to eat his bento before the beginning of the day bell rang.

“Murasakibara-kun,” he heard his name call out to him from behind, halfway down the hall. He stopped, and looked back to see you with two large furushiki wrappings in hand. “I might have went a little overboard, sorry.” You laughed quietly.

Oh yeah, you promised to bring him lunch today. He wasn’t sure how he forgot that.

“Thanks,” he accepted the purple furushiki, surprised by its hefty weight.

“I hope it’s to your liking!” You grinned up at him. Caught up in surprise, he only just realized how fucking short you were. Everyone was short compared to him but, well, he could have easily missed you if he didn’t actively look down.

Before he had the chance to reply, you were jogging off to your shared classroom, carefree and greeting friends along the way.

…

The hours seemed to pass agonizingly slow between then and lunch time… Despite being successful in scarfing down the lunch his mom packed him for the day (as per usual), he was eager to finally enjoy the food he’d been wishing he could eat from your bento from afar.

…

Finally, the heavenly sound of the lunch bell ended morning lectures. Immediately, he pulled out the wrapped bento box, unwrapped the furushiki, and popped open the first of three boxes.

He wanted to eat slowly, savor each bite for its amazing flavor. But that was just impossible. He barely had enough time to chew between each bite, he was eating so fast.

Too distracted by the food in front of him, he hadn’t noticed you staring at him. “He sure is eating fast,” you chuckled to yourself, making your friend cock an eyebrow at you. “Why the sudden interest? Wait… isn’t that one of your lunch boxes? No, that’s definitely your furushiki on his desk. Y/n, did you..?!” She asked, almost choking on her own lunch.

“W-what can I say… I-I accidentally made too much…” you looked away from her suspecting squint. “Oh my god.” She whispered, looking back to Murasakibara. “Never for a thousand years would I have guessed… you and Mu—“ she tried to tease you, but you cut her off with a sush.

“Not out loud..!” You whispered red faced.

Glancing back again, you spotted Murasakibara seeking you out, mouth full and giving you a big thumbs up. You almost gasped, his approval earning a much deeper blush out of you.

Once he’d finished, he wrapped everything back up. Though, when he handed it back to you, it was much… lumpier than you remembered.

“It was good.” Murasakibara reported back to you in his usual dull tone. “Just good?” Your friend huffed. “That’s it?”

Murasakibara narrowed his eyes, not sure what she meant. It’s not like he was very fond of her anyway, given her attitude toward the way you ate in the first place. Was she trying to get on his nerves?

“She went out of her way to make extra food for you? Can’t you act a little more grateful for her kindness?” She asked, pulling her own finished dishes away from your desk.

“S-stop.!” You hissed.

Your friend shrugged, unfazed. “Just sayin’.” She said just before walking away, leaving you two in shock.

“D-don’t worry about—“ you tried to laugh off the poor attitude she left behind, but Murasakibara got the idea.

“The Muchim was a little spicy, but i really liked it. The rice you made was fluffier than how my mom makes it, so I liked it better. The sauce you put on the chicken was also different than I’ve had before, so I really liked that too… I also liked the way you fried the dumplings on the bottom…” he tried thinking of different ways to compliment your exceptional cooking, but he wasn’t really that good with words. Hell, he wasn’t very social in general. Talking to you at all was out of his normal behavior.

Nevertheless, his kind words struck a cord in you. “It wasn’t too much?” You asked.

“I could have thirds.” He admitted.

“I have some leftover from my own lunch, if you-“

“Nah, that’s your food y/n-chin. You should finish it.” Murasakibara pointed at the lunchbox wrapping he handed back to you. “I also left some snacks in there for you as thanks, make sure to eat those too.”

That explains why the wrapping was lumpy. You couldn’t help but laugh again. “That’s thoughtful of you, thanks.”

Murasakibara nodded, and started walking back to his desk, but felt a tug on his sleeve that made him stop and look back.

“Sorry… but, do you mind if I call you by a nickname? After all, not only do you call me by my first name, but it’s also shortened…”

He looked down at you silently for a moment too long to feel comfortable. “I-I just mean, Murasakibara is a bit of a mouthful, you know?”

Crap, were you overstepping? Nervously, you averted your gaze. He liked seeing this shy side of you too. Atsushi smiled, and sat in the seat your friend left open. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

Happily surprised at his change of tone, you unfolded the lunch cloth, and pulled out a red bean bun.

Til the end of lunch, you both sat and chatted with one another.

[c-t-r-l14]

And the Crowd is….Slighlty Confused!?

Ya’ll remember when Kendrick Lamar said, “I remember when you was conflicted”?

That’s me right now, ya’ll. I’m conflicted.

I’m conflicted as hell.

For the first time in six months, Alex and Gremlin sat down and had a proper conversation about the break up, how they’ve been feeling, and what they’ve been doing since then. And honestly, I couldn’t be more prouder of both of them. They were certainly tackling this subject with maturity—an aspect that they both begged of each other, but clearly lacked the last time they spoke. It was really nice to see them sit down and be amicable to one another, and honestly, my heart couldn’t help but soften by the way they interacted with each other. It reminded me of the good ol’ days. The peaceful times before everything went to shit.

On one hand, I really want them to have a happy ending. In the audio, you can just feel the mutual pining between those two; the way they both have been stalking each other socials, the way they’ve been thinking about each other non-stop, the way they find remnants of each other and the happy times they had in ordinary mundane things—the way you can tell how much they’ve missed each other. Like—I truly, truly felt the love. This was the conversation they should’ve had from the very beginning, and it pisses me off that they didn’t really talk things out after the first initial argument in part four. At the end of the day, all Gremlin wanted was reassurance, even though they went about it the wrong way. I think one of the best things about this audio was the fact that Alex gave them a lot of grace. He recognizes that Gremlin’s trust issues went deeper than they thought, and even realized that what they did that night was a lapse in judgement on their part. He took the time to understand their mindset when they made those accusations—how it’s hard to see anything differently when you’ve had your mind set on something, or—how sometimes when life is a little bit too good, you start to get suspicious—and start to find a reason why it could be an illusion. But, I think one of the biggest things about this audio was how he acknowledged how irrelevant he made listener feel. He reflected on his behavior during the campaign shoot he was doing with Natalie—and how he was fully focused on his work because he wanted to impress the higher ups—and it was because of that, he started to neglect listener. He started answering his texts less, he was spending more of his time at the studio, and by the time he got home, he was exhausted—so its not like they could’ve done much with each other, anyway. That neglect, plus him spending time with another woman—it made Gremlin spiral, and drudged up old memories and fears that they thought they’d put to bed. And Alex, after all this time—finally acknowledged that he was partly to blame for that spiral, and realized that he should’ve been more attentive to the person he loves.

Another thing I really love about this video is that we finally get a reason why he acted so strangely during the break up. Alex and Gremlin never really spoke about the cheating accusations after it happened, and like I said in my last rant—it’s very possible that it had been on his mind for a long time, but he just never told them how bad it truly made him feel until the break up convo happened—which caused his feelings to get the better of him. And, he acknowledged that because of this, it made him say some things that he really shouldn’t have said. Now, as a person who’s literally known for her hatred of Alex, I’m gonna give credit where credit’s due. I am very proud of Alex’s character development. I’m proud he reflected on all of the events that took place and the part he played, and unlike the last audio—he doesn’t make excuses this time around. He acknowledges the break up could’ve been handled better, and takes some accountability for his role in it. But that’s the thing—he only takes some accountability for his part, and it’s because of that I’m conflicted as hell.

Throughout this entire closure convo, it seems like Alex was kind of vague about the things he said during the breakup. He never once acknowledged the excuses he made, the gaslighting he did, or his hypocrisy during that entire conversation. And those three things were the biggest reasons why a lot of people do not like him. Like yes, he acknowledges that his emotions got the better of him and made him say ‘things he shouldn’t have’, but the main thing he did acknowledge was the offhand comment he made about Gremlin not being the “right person” for this relationship. On top of that, he made sure to go into great detail on the way Gremlin confronted him about the cheating allegations. Now, don’t get me wrong—Alex is fully within his right to tell Gremlin how they made him feel. At the end of the day, they had no right to violate his privacy or yell at them with accusations they made up based off flimsy ass evidence and their own paranoid theories—and I can understand why Alex was hurt by that. However, he never really went into depth about the things he said during the break up convo,either. He puts the gaslighting, excuse making, and hypocrisy under the umbrella term of ‘things he shouldn’t have said to them’, and that was something I really did not like. Because, one of the biggest reasons why Gremlin fully believed that the break up was all their fault was because Alex made it seem that way. He dodged the solutions Gremlin tried to give him with excuses, he demanded transparency from them and couldn’t even be bothered to do the same thing back, and used such roundabout language that made it seem like they were the only problem—despite his lack of effort and accountability. He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that he tried to twist their anger for being the last to know about his job offer in a way that made them look like that they were mad that he got a job offer at all. And speaking of that job offer…WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU ‘NEVER TOLD THEM YES?’ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE ‘ONLY THINKING ABOUT IT,’ AND ‘WANTED TO TALK ABOUT IT TO THE PEOPLE WHO MATTERED TO YOU FIRST?’ In the break up audio, he made it seem like he was actually going to take the job. Him taking the job was one of the biggest reasons why he broke up with Gremlin in the first place—because he was so sure that they couldn’t handle long distance! If he wasn’t sure about taking the job the day he broke up with them—then what was the point of the break up in the first place?? Why didn’t he at least take the time to make a decision about the job offer first, and then see what he could do about his relationship afterword?? Like—if he wasn’t 100% sure that he wasn’t going to go to States—why did he break up with them? That was the part that never made sense to me. I guess you could say that his emotions had gotten the better of him in that moment and he impulsively decided to break things off…but just knowing that he never had a definitive answer during the time they broke up makes the break up seem more stupid than it already was. I was so sure that he was going to go to New York that I didn’t even think that we were even going to get an audio where Alex tells Gremlin that he still loves them, simply because—number one—I thought he his decision to move was set in stone, and number two—he acted like he wanted nothing to do with them!

I just don’t know ya’ll, I’m hella conflicted. You can see how much he’s grown—at least in some ways. He’s finally starting to recognize his faults, and acknowledge the things he could’ve done better. I think my favorite thing about this audio was the fact that he didn’t let Gremlin take all the blame, and he even tried to give this relationship a fighting chance. However, his immaturity still lurks in the background. Because while yes, he does acknowledge some of his faults, he doesn’t seem to recognize all of them.

A part of me is still bitter toward him—and pissed as hell that they could’ve had this conversation the whole time if they just took the time to open their mouths and communicate. But, another part of me—a slightly bigger part—can’t help but forgive him. And that might be a shock to ya’ll—since I’m probably known as that ‘One girl who despises Alex so much that she makes unhinged rants about how much she hates him.’ But I think if he truly wanted to change, and is taking the initiative to do so, who am I to be mad at him? I think its a step in the right direction—and I’d like to think it’d be nice for him prove that he’s not the punk ass, bum ass, photographer bitch boy that we think is. Because, one of the biggest things I hated about him was the lack of initiative, because despite telling Gremlin how much he loves them, and how they make him happy during the break up convo—he never once lifted a finger to make things work.

But, I don’t see that now. If he wants to make things work, then—I mean—why not? Their love is just as clear as their red flags. And maybe a lot of ya’ll may think I’m a punk for thinking this way, but as much as I get up on here and talk shit, I’ve always secretly hoped that they’d get a happy ending together—one where they both worked things out. And they finally have a chance to do that now, both of them—in therapy.

Although I don’t think that’s gonna happen—because the crumpets are not having it.

Oh well. What’s important is that Gremlin got closure, and (hopefully) knows they’re not fully at fault for what happened, and Alex apologized—and to me, that’s all that matters.

Masterlist

[weepingtalecowboy]

The chain ain't real… it’s too convenient

Fanfic prompt : After Link's awakening I am surprised that legend actually believes that he isn’t dreaming or

That the chain actually doesn’t exists but what if …

The hero of legends didn’t believe in something so convincing and so personal

After all traveling through different timelines with several different heroes from different timelines including your predecessors and your supposed successor fighting a Shadow link ,it does sound like a dream.

Well , the traveling with friends part at least.

For why shouldn’t it be.. it’s too personal.. too painful.

If this happens another time then he is probably just going to cry

Made worse by the fact that wind also encountered a whale god and has information about him

Almost like…

Marin….!

Wouldn’t it be cruel if he saw Marin in Wind whenever he looked at him like a child he and Marin could have had that also loves seagulls and can even become one just how Marin always wished she could

With a sister that loves hibiscus flowers

Both living on a tiny island and exploring the world

But just like Marin Wind knows the wind fish when nobody else knows about the dreaming god

Four sword palace is by far the most disturbing dungeon in all of existence

And the very much alive four is now next to him

A combination of all the shades he once killed in battle

Time can turn into a god (god flashbacks)

Wolfie who apparently was also in some sort of dark realm because he is a spirit animal like legend

But a wolf is a rabbit's biggest predator

Hyrule who is literally his supposed successor he will fail

Is everything he ever did doomed to be meaningless ?

Should he have never bothered

Is it all a nightmare.?

Warriors a knight that is pretty much embodying the knights that once hunted down legend

(Loyal to the crown and ready to kill for it confidence but a sense of entitlement )

Why ?, why is he wearing their faces,…

All at once.

Sky who is the very reason everyone is cursed and if sky just hasn’t failed then the whole world would have been better

No ganondorf

Nobody would have cursed the knights and killed his uncle

He seems like such a convenient scapegoat

The beginning of the cycle that has been happening for years

Living up in the skies

Isn’t it just more likely to be a bad dream then to meet someone who ruined your life and the lives of every hero before you.

And Wild who literally failed at his quest (just like legend would one day leave the world and then hyrule lives in ruins)

It has to be a dream …

It can’t be real,

Because if it is his pain and suffering will be meaningless

He would have sacrificed everything

For nothing

Like all embody some sort of guilt he has or fear he experienced

It is too personal

It’s his worst nightmare come true.

If he didn’t know better then he would think that his brain is slowly dying and as it dies it is just projecting such a messy and unrealistic situation like heroes from different times and places and he is traveling with them

It has to be a hallucination

Nothing else makes sense

Let’s hope he will not think that he went insane on his newest adventure

The Chain just having fun and bonding: :) “we friends, we chain”

Legend being convinced that nothing nice could ever happen to him and that it obviously is just a matter of time before it reveals itself to be nothing but a dream *thinking*: “I am just hallucinating the whole adventure and will wake up and then be happy I never got attached”

The chain seeing legend go *>:[*: “this is very rude“

Legend then proceeded to ignore his hallucinations and also ignored the food that the one that he named Wild was cooking

Until he unfortunately got attached anyway

You know what would be absolutely cruel to end the adventure with the chain getting teleported back into their timelines during sleep

And then legend wakes up completely alone once again

Nothing left of his friends

Until they appear again

But not the way he wished they did

Would be great moment for him to actually lose it and just fully admit that he hallucinated everything because surely the wind fish wouldn’t be this cruel…

Main while the chain is very concerned that Legend is not thinking that they are real yet still happy to see them

When Warriors introduced him to Marin in his timeline

It only got worse from there.

[icallhimjoey]

Explain Us

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: So, more than flatmates... but, what exactly? Would be fantastic if you would just, you know, talk about it. But communicating is not your strong suit and you're extremely certain that it's fine. Confusing and vague, but, fine.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, a continuation of define close, no need to read it to enjoy this, though it will help! 18+ smut! (just a little! but it's a start!)

Author’s note: "am i gonna have to buy into the concept of sleeping next to him but just kissing?" no :) of course not :))))

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Big mistake. Massive error. Huge miscalculation.

Shouldn’t have done that.

Why did you do that?

All the things you wouldn’t even let your own inner monologue sound out were now just... out there. Vocalised into the ether. Swirling around in the air of the flat. The very one where Joe lived too, and maybe they’d end up finding their way into Joe’s ears eventually – not how it worked, you were very aware, but, a new fear had been awakened anyway.

Fuck.

You shouldn’t have told her.

And it was Joe’s fault too!

Not really. But, sort of. You were blaming him for all of it, anyway. If he hadn’t decided that your friend being out of the room for just a second was enough time to let hands wander, she would never have seen. Would never have given you that look. Would never have asked you the question you knew she was keeping inside of her mouth until Joe’d left.

“So... what’s going on with you and Joe?”

Breathe, you stupid bitch. Remain calm.

“Nothing.”

It was silly how fast you cracked. An eye-roll and a pointed look later had you bashfully confess that, yea all right, there was something going on with you and Joe. You just didn’t really know if you could explain it properly.

“The way you quickly stepped away from him when I walked back in, I fucking knew something was up. Try me.”

“No, but it’s really complicated...”

“I said, try me.”

And well. Turns out, in a huge what-the-fuck moment, it wasn’t at all that complicated actually. You told her that you and Joe got cosy and watched films a lot. Cuddled up and fell asleep on each other on the daily. Slept in the same bed a lot. All the time, now, actually, because it was just nicer than sleeping alone. But you weren’t like, together or anything.

You rambled.

And your friend watched you in silence.

And, yea sure, sometimes you kissed, but it was like, you know, how friends kiss each other sometimes. Quick pecks. Like stage kisses. Joe was an actor. It didn’t really mean anything.

“You... you kiss like friends kiss?”

“Yea,” you shrugged, picked a little bit of food of a forgotten dinner plate to appear more casual about all of it. To really sell that it wasn’t a big deal to you.

“Or like, how you’d kiss a parent, you know?”

Your friend watched you a second, and then challengingly went, “All right. Kiss me like you’d kiss Joe.” before leaning over a little in her seat, ready for a smooch.

And then you paused, and you shouldn’t have. The pause gave everything away. It made your friend burst out laughing instantly.

“You don’t kiss like friends do!” she accused, but you were already wiping your hands and reaching for her face. You could plant one smacker right on her lips to convince her of your innocence if you had to. Sure. Why not.

“No, come here, I’ll show you.”

“Ew fuck off,” she laughed. “Next you’ll finger me on the sofa.”

And–

Um.

What?

Your friend was about to go for a sip of her drink when she saw your face, and then lowered her glass as her eyes grew to twice their size.

“Oh no, you’ve let him finger you on the sofa?”

You had.

You fucking had.

But you weren’t going to fucking tell her.

You felt heat flush your face, and shut the fuck up, you could not blush in front of her. She'd know! Your panic made her exclaim your name loudly, like she couldn’t believe what the fuck this well of information she’d just fallen into even was. But there was a wild joy there too. Like she was loving this obvious mess of a weird relationship you had with your flatmate, and was so excited to be discovering all of these crazy secrets.

You didn’t blame her.

“No,” you started, trying to be as convincing as you could. “I’ve not let him fi–” her laugh interrupted you, and you didn’t like how contagious it was. You tried again, trying to speak over your own and her laughter, “He has not fingered me on the sofa.”

He had.

“Oh?”

“... what?”

“Not on the sofa? But, elsewhere, he has?”

That too.

“Stop it!” you exclaimed, getting up to clear the table. “Of course he hasn’t, we’re flatmates for fuck’s sake!”

A pair of eyes narrowed at you in suspicion.

“You sure?”

“Oh, my God. Imagine if I wasn’t?” You laughed, and she laughed with you. It deflated the tension you felt in your gut from lying by just enough to keep the nervous sweat from your brow.

You diverted the attention to different things quite quickly, and your friend soon dropped the whole ordeal, what with it being obvious that it was clearly making you uncomfortable. Your adamant denying was no fun to listen to anyway.

But something nagged at you.

Why had she immediately assumed there was more to you and Joe and then... didn’t seem all that fussed?

Well, she did seem fussed. But she also didn’t.

She hadn’t even asked if you liked him. If you were into Joe like that. Like it wasn’t really a huge deal.

Which, yea, she was right, because it wasn’t. You’d been telling yourself it wasn’t. Spent a lot of time convincing yourself that it wasn’t.

But how come it took her only two seconds to agree with you before she swiftly carried on talking about her own problems?

It bothered you more than you let on, and it kind of simmered on in the back of you mind for the rest of the evening. Kept you staring into space and not really listening to whatever she was telling you. Had you almost consider confessing that, actually, you lied and Joe had fingered you on the sofa. Big whoops. And right where she was sitting, too.

It kind of gradually happened a couple weeks ago and you hadn’t talked about it afterwards.

Of course you hadn’t.

You never talked.

But you should have.

Not that you’d know what to say.

What would you even say?

Thank you?

You’d done that once, and Joe had been all weird after.

You didn’t talk going into anything, and you didn’t talk after. And it had all been fine up until... well, now, probably.

No.

Actually... it was still fine.

Right?

You were just flatmates who did things sometimes. No judgement. Just in the moment enjoyment and comfortability. A natural fluidity that had just grown between the two of you over time.

You tried to shake it off as you got ready for bed in Joe’s bedroom on your own. Joe was still out. Would be for a little while too. Night shoot, or a party, something. Whatever. You’d not paid attention because your heart had been in your throat as he explained where he was going. Your friend had just seen the two of you jump apart in the kitchen when she walked back in, and so focusing on whatever information Joe was giving you was a little too big of an ask.

But then you couldn’t shake it off.

Because even though Joe had made the comment that his bed had started smelling of you now, Joe’s bed still smelled of Joe to you, and now every single thing that had lingered in the back of your mind got hurled right into the forefront.

That day.

That first time.

You’d been in such an awful mood that day. Ended up having to work late to rectify mistakes others had made, and then, when you finally got home, were met by a full sink of dishes in the kitchen, dirty plates and glasses on the counter right next to it. There was evidence of Joe having started trying to tidy it all up, but then clearly, he hadn’t finished the job.

When you opened the dishwasher you knew why.

It was full of clean but still wet dishes that he hadn’t wanted to towel dry before putting it all away.

Great.

Sometimes having a flatmate was great.

Other times, it was really fucking annoying.

“Joe?” you called, using a dirty fork to check if any of the dishes inside of the sink were yours.

“Yea?”

He was reading something aloud in his bedroom when you’d walked in, and you knew you were interrupting him as he did his job. But, fuck it. None of these dishes were yours.

“Would you mind not being the worst flatmate tonight?”

Harsh. But Joe jogged in and knew exactly what you meant, “Yea, sure, in a second. Look what I got!”

In a second.

Ugh.

Joe walked over to the TV and then stepped aside to reveal a small plant.

You gave it a dry stare before sarcastically commenting, “Wonderful.” and turning around to begrudgingly start on the dishes yourself.

“What? You were saying how this area needed some greenery, did you not?” Joe touched one of the green leafs proudly. He really thought he picked a good one.

“Yea,” you scoffed. “But I meant like, a big palm for in the corner, or one of those, I don’t know, huge monstera ones, with the big leafs, that can grow up to the ceiling.” You complained. Loved complaining for a second. Really enjoyed swimming in negativity as you fished all dirty dishes from the sink and placed them with the plates and glasses on the side.

“Yea, I guess that would be more impressive than this,” Joe said softly, still looking at the little asplenium. He’d picked the pot himself too, and the lady said that the small plant was called crispy wave and wasn’t that just exactly the right description for it too? “But we could do both. We could still get a larger one for next to it. And then it’ll have a buddy.”

You barely heard Joe over the clattering of cutlery in the sink.

“Hey, I said I’d do that in a second,” Joe finally zoned back in after a particular loud clang and made his way over.

“Yea but I didn’t ask you to not be the worst flatmate tonight in a second, though, did I? Have to do everything in this fucking place.”

You didn’t. You knew that. But it was negativity hours and Joe was just going to have to understand you didn’t mean half the shit you were going to be moaning about.

You pushed dishes aside on the counter to make room for a handful of forks and knives whilst Joe got his hands on your shoulders, doing his best to carefully move you aside.

“Let me–”

“No, you’ll just–”

The loud smash of a glass to tile interrupted you. Slipped right off the edge of the counter. It was one of Joe’s nicer ones. One that looked like a vintage tumbler – it wasn’t actually vintage – that he kept out on display on one of the shelves.

The both of you just stared at it for a second, and then you decided that you couldn’t actually deal with any of the mess. The dirty dishes. Joe’s stupid small plant. The broken glass. Shards all over the kitchen floor.

So you just, left.

Turned around and walked right into the hallway.

Left Joe alone to deal with the ramifications of which you would argue were his own doing.

Shouldn’t have left all this mess.

Shouldn’t have all of his friends over for lunch just because he could.

Shouldn’t have used his nice tumblers.

And people at work shouldn’t be such fucking idiots.

The universe was awful and everyone could die.

There.

But then, before you’d even walked into your bedroom, you’d already decided it was actually all your fault, and Joe’d done nothing wrong, and you were going to get him a new tumbler.

You took a minute to breathe. To sit within your feelings. Wiped a stupid tear from your eye before it could fall down. Changed into something more comfortable and raked a brush through your hair in an attempt to detangle the day out of it.

When you walked back into the living area, Joe was stood hunched beside the counter, probably inspecting the floor for bits of forgotten glass, which was... just perfect.

You walked over in silence and then simply just, climbed on board. Slung your arms around his neck and let your full bodyweight sink onto his back as you pulled your knees up and around his sides.

“Hey, wha–”

Joe nearly lost his balance and shot one hand out to a cabinet to keep himself steady whilst the other one grabbed onto one of your arms.

“What’s going on? Everything okay?”

Your chest tightened at how worried and sincere he sounded.

Joe stood up straight, and got both his arms around your legs to keep you in place on his back.

“I’ll replace it.” you murmured.

“The glass?”

Joe felt you nod against the side of his head as you cheek pressed against one of his ears.

“Ah, s’just a glass, don’t worry about it.”

“And your plant’s cute.”

It was as close to an apology as he was going to get from you. Joe felt you sigh against him and he turned his head in an attempt to look at you.

“Have you eaten?” he asked softly.

You had. Stupid tesco’s meal deal at your desk. You understood why he asked though.

“Mhmm.” you confirmed.

“Good. You ready for dessert?”

Joe let you hold onto him, but it quickly became impossible to stay in your piggyback position. You nearly choked him as you attempted to stay on, but you slid off when he started emptying the dishwasher.

You both laughed, and then you snorted, and then you both laughed at how you’d snorted.

Joe’d gotten little pots of chocolate mousse, the cheap stuff that your mother used to pretend was a special dessert for special occasions only which you believed until you were a teenager. Felt silly now, but they still felt a little special. You had yours sat at the island whilst you watched Joe clean the kitchen.

Got to stare at how his muscles moved underneath his white T-shirt.

How his hands moved as he grabbed onto things.

His fingers.

When Joe closed the loaded dishwasher and turned around, he was met with his flatmate’s half-lidded eyes. His flatmate who had her head propped up in a hand, who had her spoon hanging from her mouth.

Joe theatrically spread his arms out and gave a little bow.

“There. All tidy. Not the worst flatmate tonight.”

He truly wasn’t.

Even if he’d left the mess for what it was.

Joe didn’t even need to suggest spending the rest of the night on the sofa together. It’s where you naturally migrated to as you had your last spoonful of dessert and he wiped down the counters to really finish off the job.

You’d sat down first, and when Joe let himself fall into the cushions beside you, he leant into you a little and stuck his chin out. When you just looked at him a second, he tapped his cheek with a finger, asking for a little thank you kiss. It instantly made you grin.

It was stupid how large the shift in your mood was from when you’d walked in earlier.

But look at him!

All... cheeky and cute.

It was kind of impossible not to cheer up just by being around him.

And cheeky was right, because when you easily gave in and went to press a kiss to his cheek, Joe turned his head at the last moment and got you right on the lips.

You gasped, said his little plant wasn’t that nice, which made him laugh loudly, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut.

Making Joe laugh like that was different. Made you feel all giddy and secretly proud as you got comfortable in your little spot on the sofa.

“All right, I’ll move it to where you won’t have to look at it all the time.” Joe joked. You frowned, asked, “Where?” because the flat wasn’t that big. You’d see it all the time no matter where it would be.

“I don’t know,” Joe said, moving a throw pillow and stuffing it behind his back. “Your bedroom, maybe.”

Oh.

Yea, all right.

“Fuck off.”

You gave Joe a deadpan stare as he giggled, far too happy with his own little joke.

Even though lighthearted and sort of adorable, that got a little too close to acknowledging what you were doing.

You didn’t talk.

Well, you talked, but never about it. And you liked it that way.

Once you and Joe got close, you kind of didn’t want to stay away anymore. Speaking thoughts, and feelings, and rational musings into the air might make you decide on silly shit like, maybe you shouldn’t anymore.

Maybe you shouldn’t have Joe squeeze a hand in between your legs just above your knees for comfort.

Maybe you shouldn’t get cosy and rub your cupid’s bow against his bicep as Joe flicked through channels.

Maybe you shouldn’t so readily accept kisses pressed into your hair, and maybe you shouldn’t hum to them either. Close your eyes to them. Tip your head back to look Joe in the eye and kiss him on the mouth after.

Maybe you shouldn’t let Joe snake an arm across your waist and tuck his fingers into the elastic waist band of your joggers as you lazily make out on the sofa for a bit.

What you definitely shouldn’t have done, was nudge closer and open your legs a little as you felt Joe’s fingers press into the skin just above your underwear.

Shouldn’t have nodded when Joe rested his forehead against yours for a second and whispered a breathy, “Yea?”

Shouldn’t have gasped as Joe touched you over your underwear first.

Absolutely shouldn’t have moaned as Joe moved fabric aside.

Shouldn’t have whispered his name when you noticed how he was biting back his own groans.

Shouldn’t have redirected his thumb when it wasn’t really in the right spot, and then really shouldn’t have shuddered when it found exactly the right spot.

But it had happened.

And then you didn’t talk after.

Should have.

Didn’t.

And then it happened a bunch more.

Shouldn’t have.

But did.

And now your friend sort of knew, and why the fuck had she not reacted in the way that you thought she would react? Was this not a huge deal?!

You laid in Joe’s bed, in one of Joe’s T-shirts, surrounded by Joe’s things, and, no. It was all too much. And he wasn’t even there.

For the first time in weeks you decided to leave Joe’s bed for what it was and go across the hall to find your own to sleep in.

It felt a little like getting into a hotel bed. Not quite like your own, but comfortable none the less.

The last thing you saw before you switched off the lights was that stupid little plant that Joe had put on your dresser.

Big mistake.

Shouldn’t have done that.

---

The Taglisted

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taglist currently full, sorry

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Selfish ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu

a/n: hiiii h i hii! my first fic in god FOUR years??? i have never written for BSD before... but i'm excited to be a part of this community and get back into the ff writing scene and get to know everyone! i hope you will accept me as a part of ur community & that i can learn from everyone *__* onto the fic!

this takes place (s2 spoiler!) after oda's death while dazai is in port before he quits to join the detective agency. reader is female.

genre: angst and da nasty, f!reader

content: dazai is a meanie to you :((( meaningless sex, no aftercare, toxic and unrequited feelings, it's giving emotionally unavailable guy from tinder that you can't help but run to oops?

**minors DNI** cunnilingus & later he's a bit rough with you during sex

why is he so selfish? is it not so selfish to act this way? a girl like you in the port mafia head’s bedroom. shouldn’t you be with some do-gooder? you know dazai isn’t going to be your boyfriend, right? no matter how right you treat him?

he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in his eyes. leaning against his desk, dazai absent-mindedly uncloaks his jacket, staring out the apartment window that looks over yokohama. there’s a certain solemnity in his gaze, something that you can never read. these days, dazai feels more and more distant – even more than before.

you approach him from the doorway. gingerly, your fingertips graze his hand, which is idling on some papers on his desk. you touch him, and he doesn’t move, not even an inch, his hand limp and cold against yours. no, don’t touch me, he feels an urge to say. the thought even surprises him, though he understands the impulse. now that odasaku’s gone and died, this body of his suddenly feels dirty. he remembers oda’s words.

don’t touch me, dazai thinks to himself. he aches at your touch. but he relents. sighs into your touch, even.

“dazai, what’s wrong?”

his lips turn down slightly in a frown at your inquiry, eyes clouded over in thought. it’s only a moment. barely noticeable, though your keen eye observes it. then he chirps up, “well well, shall we get to it?” he brushes you aside completely. there it is again, that facade of his that comes so naturally it’s got everyone fooled… almost everyone, anyway. he turns around with that smile on his face. that fake smile of his that’s always bothered you. that smile haunts you.

dazai’s fingers find your waist, his hand settling on the small of your back. now, it’s you who wants to push him away.

he never answers your questions – he just leaves you in the shadow like the others.

“you said you have a treat for me, yes? you know i don’t like to wait for these kind of things~” he hums, looking at you devilishly. “now, how about we get right to it?”

this is always how it goes.

now his breath is hot on your neck, his voice a whisper in your ear. his grip on your hips tighten.

“dazai–” you gasp, suddenly becoming weak for him as he corners you into the desk. why is he so selfish? he thinks to himself again. he knows he’s being selfish. but he can’t help it. your body is warm, and his is so very cold. he wants to steal your warmth and keep it all to himself.

“ah-ha, don’t act so surprised now,” he teases, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “this is what you want, right?” he pulls back again to make sure, a grin on his face. “or am i mistaken?” he’s not wrong – your little rendezvous at his apartment always start and end like this. you can never resist him. you feel your defenses lower. you want his defenses to lower for you, too.

but you know he’s not going to say the words, ‘i love you,’ and the warmth you feel in his arms is lost in those cold, unfeeling eyes.

why are you like this? you’re wondering to yourself. you know you’re being naïve again. why are you just like the others? you can’t stop comparing yourself to them, the countless imaginary women in your head. the thought of them makes you feel so helpless, so angry. when you relent to his touch like this, when you let him hold you like this, it feels so wrong. how many women has daza touched? how many girls has he brought here? did they all feel this way? do their hearts pound like yours? ache like yours?

“dazai…” your voice is weak. your voice is a whisper.

your voice is full of want.

your voice is full of need.

“i like it when you say my name,” he murmurs softly against your earlobe, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, a flippant grin forming on his lips as he brushes your hair to the side. you know just what comes next… and you’re not going to fight it, either.

his fingers travel up your body, then he grasps your neck in his hands. he teases the tender skin with his tongue, languidly licking along the side before finally taking you into his mouth and sucking gently. rougher, but never rough enough to leave a mark. he knows better than to mark you. you’re not his, and he’s not yours.

your head is spinning. your hand immediately goes for his pants, but he pushes you aside. “not yet –” slender fingers grab a hold of your waist and hoist you up to the table. “– face fuck me first.” he says it so casually and deadpan, it catches you off guard and makes your cheeks flush red. then he kneels before you and suddenly smirks up, some playful glint in his eye as he chuckles to himself, leaving you at a complete loss for words. dazai’s always like this, completely unreadable and unpredictable.

large hands travel up your skirt, smoothing the skin of your thighs. his gaze is full of wanton heat, full of lust, as his wandering fingers toy with the garter of your panties before slowly pulling your underwear down your legs. you shiver quietly and look away. “ah, embarrassed, are you?” he quirks his eyebrow, looking up at you deviously. no matter how much you’ve done this, you can’t help but feel flustered every single time. as you avert your gaze once again, he protests with a loud, exaggerated sigh. “uh-uh, eyes on me or i won’t do it at all. you want to watch, don’t you~?”

pulling you closer to him, he presses you to his eager lips. his tongue is warm and wet, and it knows you all too well from nights spent wrapped in his bandaged arms. you gasp at the sudden heat that envelops you, finding your hands suddenly tangled in his soft brown hair. he moans quietly against you, letting you know he enjoys your pleasure just as much, his fingers digging deep into the fat of your thighs. you try not to look but end up peeking at him only to meet his gaze, staring up at you shamelessly as he eats you, his saliva and your arousal smeared across his lips. soon enough, you feel his fingers penetrating you, one finger at first then two and three; he’s preparing you for him. you want him – “please… dazai… dazai…” his name is all you know, a quiet prayer on your lips. this man will be the end of you.

without saying a word, he suddenly grabs you again and tosses you on the bed with a reckless thud. you hear him shuffle through the desk for a condom, then he flips you onto your knees and pushes you into the mattress nonchalantly, like you’re no one at all. he doesn’t bother to take off the rest of your clothes or even his; he just unzips and lifts your skirt again, hands roughly grabbing a hold of your ass, then you feel the tip pressing flush against your entrance. “i’m gonna put it in now,” he says callously, not an ounce of feeling in his voice.

you’re so wet that it takes no time for you to stretch for him. he chuckles from behind you, an empty laugh. “i guess you enjoyed?” he teases, “you’re basically begging for it at this point.

reaching out to stroke your hair, dazai’s touch is gentle and almost loving as he lets the tendrils slip delicately through his fingertips. there it is again, you think to yourself as you feel a pang in your heart. that wretched touch that’s so achingly sweet it confuses you. there’s always that sudden switch up with, fleeting moments where he’s a different person. but it’s only an instance. he presses himself inside of you with a shaky breath, pushing you into the mattress roughly, and you find yourself in reality again. you don’t face each other. instead, you bury your face into the bed as he pulls you against him again and again and again until you forget all about that moment.

it’s better than way, you think to yourself. sometimes looking into his eyes is too confusing.

…

after all’s done, there’s nothing but silence between the two of you. dazai’s at his desk organizing some papers, and you’re sitting on the bed trying to collect yourself as the feeling of shame overtakes you. another night spent in this mysterious man’s bed, knowing you’re in love with someone who you can’t possibly ever have. as usual, you’re the first to break the silence. no point in asking him any more questions, or trying to make conversation. you’ve learned your place. “i should probably go,” you say.

dazai looks up at you for a second, almost disappointed, as though he were expecting you to ask him for more. it’s a rare instance of hesitation that surprises even him. “you can stay if you want,” he says flawlessly, acting it was a normal thing for him to ask you to stay in the middle of the day, for no reason at all. it catches you off guard, but the way that it comes out so naturally has you convincing yourself that the pause meant nothing. after all, what would dazai want with you? dazai is the head of port mafia. you are no one to him.

“didn’t you say there was something you wanted to give me?” he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

oh, that explains it all.

“oh, that — i, uh... i totally forgot,” you lie through your teeth. he looks almost disappointed, this time visibly frowning. but he perks up in no time.

“ah-ha, you’re so scatterbrained,” he says cheerfully, ruffling your hair. his words are followed by the emptiest laugh.

“next time?”

but dazai’s not there anymore. “right,” he says plainly, but he knows there is no next time. right, he’s being selfish, he thinks to himself. there’s no point in this at all.

you smile as best as you can, then the two of you wave farewell. as you walk down the steps of his apartment, you crumple an envelope in your hands, the reason you came in the first place, to deliver a letter you’d written weeks ago.

dazai:

i can’t see you anymore. it hurts to.

i can’t understand you at all.

i couldn’t tell you face to face because i knew i would cry.

i’m sorry i’m selfish.

you brought your hand to your mouth, suppressing the sob that was about to escape you. in your heart, somehow, you knew you couldn’t stop seeing him. his touch, his hands, his warmth, his scent. the way that he kissed you; the way that he fucked you. that lost look in his eyes. no, you could never leave him - for it’s become all too routine to you now.

what does he dream about? what does he smile about? what does he cry about? why do these things matter so much to you?

with these thoughts in your mind, you let your arms fall limply to your side and tossed the envelope into the garbage as you walked mindlessly from his apartment, the bitter taste of dazai’s tongue still on your lips.

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @v6que~!

[searchingwardrobes]

Scarborough Fair 9/?

Yes, it's true. You aren't dreaming. I am finally updating this long-neglected fic! Not only that, but I will be finishing it. As a matter of fact, you will have an update every day this week. If anyone still cares, that is, lol. I know the fandom isn't what it once was. However, I suddenly got inspired again to finish this. So whether or not anyone reads it, it's getting the resolution it deserves. Why did I neglect it for so long? Writer's block. I just haven't written hardly a thing in at least a year, probably longer. So when I laid awake, unable to sleep because I was finishing this fic in my head, I was ecstatic. That's why I'm finishing it whether anyone reads it or not. Of course, if you are still reading it, may I politely suggest commenting? It definitely feeds the muse!

Rest assured, there will be an update tomorrow. I don't have much going on tomorrow, and I actually planned more in this chapter originally. So be looking out for that!

Much thanks to the two biggest fans of this fic, Krystal @kmomof4 and Marta @snowbellewells - re-reading your reblogs of this fic helped kick me back into high gear!

And as an extra treat, here is a picture of Emma's wedding dress in this chapter:

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Emma Swan has had a charmed life, despite being a foster child. She has a wonderful family who loves her, and the best friends in the world. The only thing that mars her idyllic existence is her birth mother: a homeless woman who mutters nonsensical rhymes and claims to be Snow White. One fateful night, however, Emma’s world is shattered. Perhaps her mother’s rhymes aren’t nonsense after all.

Rated: M for date rape, dubious consent, teen pregnancy, and sexy times (the good kind!)

Words: Over 1k in this chapter

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  (let me know if you wish to be removed or added):  @snowbellewells @teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @xhookswenchx-reads-blog @thisonesatellite @welllpthisishappening @spartanguard @ohmakemeahercules @tiganasummertree @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressandlioness1 @jamif @undercaffinatednightmare @onceratheart18 @sparlecorn93 @sals86 @pirateprincessofpizza @xarandomdreamx @zaharadessert @huntressay

Liam and Ingrid, unsurprisingly, had concerns when they came home to Emma and Killian announcing their engagement. Anna, unsurprisingly, was bouncing up and down with joy. 

“Are you sure you’re proposing for the right reasons?” Was their main question for Killian.

“Well, the main reason is I love her,” he told them with conviction, “but it’s also the timing. She needs me. I know deep in my bones I was always meant to be her husband, so if she needs me now, why wait?”

“Are you sure you aren’t just accepting out of fear? Because it’s safe?” Was their main question for Emma.

Emma’s answer was delivered with just as much conviction. “It isn’t just that I feel safe with Killian; I love him. Shouldn’t love feel safe, anyway? And I feel the same way he does. If we waited five more years, or ten, or twenty, nothing would change. We’re meant to be together.”

Liam and Ingrid couldn’t pretend to be surprised. Both of them had noticed a soulmate type of connection between Emma and Killian for a long time. They also couldn’t deny the logic of the decision when it came to Emma’s security and the baby’s. There was only one other concern.

“What about school?”

“I can finish high school married just as well as I can single,” Emma told them with a shrug, and Killian vowed he wouldn’t get in the way of her education. 

“But Boston College, Killian?”

He squared his shoulders and looked his brother dead in the eyes. “I won’t be returning. I’ve already told my boss he can count on me full time with the construction company. He’s promoting me to a foreman position, so I can easily support Emma. When the baby’s a little older, I can enroll at Red Oak and get my degree there.” 

Liam wanted to argue, but there really wasn’t anything wrong with Killian’s plan. Lots of people worked a year or two, or longer, before getting a degree. He wanted to say that Boston College was a lot more prestigious than Red Oak, but he knew full well it was a pretty weak argument. Killian would save a lot of money by transferring to Red Oak, not to mention gaining job experience. He let out a long breath and shared a meaningful look with his wife. 

“Well okay, then,” she said, her signature grin filling her face, “let’s plan a wedding!”

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

A date was set for mid-August, giving Emma two weeks between the wedding and the first day of her senior year. Unfortunately, Elsa wouldn’t be back from her study abroad program in time for the ceremony. It also gave them only three weeks to throw a wedding together. Thankfully, neither Emma nor Killian were big on grand ceremonies. 

The first item on Ingrid’s checklist was the venue. The bride and groom solved that easily: their own living room. Anna and Ingrid - and Elsa via Zoom - tried to protest that it was too small, but Emma just shrugged them off. 

“We can just pull out all the furniture and line up folding chairs. It’s not like we’re inviting that many people.”

Ingrid was concerned that the second item, the dress, would be impossible. Fate, however, seemed to be in their favor. Emma found a vintage dress that suited her personality perfectly at a thrift store downtown. She hadn’t even been dress shopping that day. Ingrid had taken her for ice cream after one of her prenatal appointments, and they had decided to stroll around the square with their ice cream cones. They were simply walking along the sidewalk, licking scoops of chocolate ice cream, and suddenly, there it was, displayed in a window. 

Emma wasn’t even sure it was meant to be a wedding dress, but it didn’t really matter. It was a cream colored, empire-wasted, sleeveless dress with one tier on the bottom of the long skirt. The fabric had a delicate floral pattern in light gold that shimmered when Emma moved. The top was a halter, which flattered Emma’s fuller bust due to her pregnancy. The empire waist also masked her growing baby bump and provided plenty of room in case she gained more in the next few weeks. When she tried it on, Ingrid started to cry. 

An employee stopped to admire Emma. “We just got that in yesterday,” she told her. “A woman told us it was her mother’s prom dress in 1976.”

Emma’s mouth fell open as she locked eyes with Ingrid. Her foster mother pressed her hands to her mouth and let out a happy squeak. 

“It’s fate, Emma,” she told her, and the two embraced. 

They left the store with the dress lovingly wrapped in its original box, having paid a whopping thirty-five dollars and seventy-five cents. 

 Every single item on Ingrid’s list was checked off with simple solutions by the bride and groom:

Killian’s tux? Well, if Emma was wearing a 70s prom dress from a thrift shop, Killian would find a thrift store suit, too.

The food? A potluck lunch would do just fine. 

The cake? The ones at the grocery store would do. As George Banks said in Father of the Bride, a cake is just flour, eggs, and sugar, right? Or something. 

The only thing Killian was concerned about was a place to live. Sure, he knew his brother and Ingrid would never kick them out, and there was at least a modicum of privacy in his attic suite. Still, it would be a little awkward, for one. More than that, however, was Killian’s pride. If he was really providing for Emma and the baby, he should be able to put a roof over their heads. 

His pride wouldn’t even allow him to go to his own brother with his concerns. Yet, Liam somehow knew anyway. Which was why he greeted Killian at the door one evening, a week and a half before the wedding, with a huge grin on his face and a slip of paper in his hand with an address on it. 

After hearing what Liam had to say, Killian raced eagerly up the stairs to Emma’s room with the good news. He came to a sudden stop in Emma’s open doorway, the smile falling from his face. She was sitting atop her bed, hugging a pillow, hastily wiping tears from her cheeks. Her mother’s journal rested atop the quilt beside her. 

“Hey,” Killian said softly as he entered the room, “what’s wrong?”

Emma slid over to make space for him on the bed, still trying to wipe the traces of tears from her cheeks. Killian picked up her mother’s journal as he made himself comfortable against the throw pillows along the headboard. Emma lifted his arm, put it around her shoulders, and tucked herself against him. 

“Is it the curse?”

She shook her head. “It’s my mom,” she told him softly.

He waited, rubbing her arm gently, and pressing his lips to the top of her head. Emma let out a shaky sigh before continuing.

“I wish I knew where she was. I’m getting married, and she doesn’t even know.”

Killian nodded but said nothing. Emma lifted her head just enough to look up at him. 

“Is it crazy that I wish she could be there?”

“Of course not. She’s your mother.”

“My insane, homeless, unpredictable mother who threw glass bottles at my head.”

Killian chuckled lightly. “True,” he tapped the green, cloth-covered notebook resting on the bedspread, “but I think reading her journal has given you a glimpse of the woman she was before. I think it’s made you realize, maybe for the first time, what you’ve lost.”

“That makes sense. I think I’m also worried that we haven’t heard from her in so long.”

Killian didn’t know what to say to ease her worries, so he cupped her face in his hand, tipped her chin up, and covered her lips with his. The kiss started gentle, intended simply to comfort, but then she responded so fervently and eagerly, that he lost himself. He shifted so she was beneath him, which caused a mewling sound to pass her lips that drove him wild. Emma slid her hand beneath his t-shirt, sending shivers up his spine as her fingers caressed his lower back. His hand grasped her waist, and his thumb slipped beneath the hem of her shirt. At the simple contact, Emma arched into him, and he began to trail kisses along her jawline. With one hand still on his back, her other hand threaded through his hair. She gasped when his lips trailed to the sensitive skin behind her ear, and something about the sound snapped him out of his haze of desire.

Killian pulled away abruptly and sat up, putting some distance between them. Emma still lay there on the bed, her face flushed, her hair splayed out on the pillows beneath her, a look of confusion marring her brow. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” he said thickly, fixing his own mussed hair with shaking hands. 

“What for?” Emma asked indignantly, sitting up beside him. “We’re engaged.”

He turned to her and took her face gently in both hands. “I know. I love you, Emma, and I plan to cherish you. You deserve that. After everything you’ve been through, I’m not going to take you like this, hurried and frantic, thinking in the back of our minds that someone could interrupt us at any moment.”

Emma glanced sheepishly at the still open door and giggled. “Then close the door next time.”

He laughed with her and pulled her to him, holding her gently. He ran his fingers through her slightly tangled hair. 

“I want to make love to you. Slowly. Thoroughly.”

Emma shivered in his arms. “Are you trying to torture me on purpose?”

He laughed again. “I feel a bit tortured, myself, truth be told. But we only have a week and a half. Then we’ll have the time and the privacy we deserve.”

“Time maybe. But privacy?”

Killian pulled the forgotten slip of paper from his pocket. “Yes, privacy.”

Emma snatched it from his hand, looking at it curiously as she settled in the middle of the bed with her legs crossed. “An address?”

“Our address,” he told her, grinning broadly.

“For real?” Emma’s eyes widened.

“For real.”

Emma squealed and threw her arms around his neck. He laughed as she peppered kisses all over his face. 

“How?” she finally asked. 

“There’s a professor of archaeology taking a sabbatical to do a dig in Greece. He told Liam he was looking for someone to take care of his house while he’s gone. So it’s ours. For free.”

“For free?”

Killian shrugged. “Well, there are also some maintenance things on the house I’m agreeing to do for him free of charge, but basically.”

Emma gazed in shock and happiness at the paper in her hands. “It’s too good to be true.”

“It’s fate.”

Emma’s eyes shone with happy tears as she looked back up at him. “It really is.”

Killian was ready to throw caution to the wind and press Emma back down into the pillows when Ingrid appeared in the doorway. He was worried what she would say, seeing him on Emma’s bed, but Ingrid seemed too ecstatic to notice. 

“We’ve found her!” she told them. 

“Who?” Emma asked. 

“Your mom!”

[morganski-19]

The One With Mother’s Day

Eddie trips out of his room, rubbing at his eyes, to answer the door. Someone choosing nine in the morning on a Sunday to knock very loudly on their front door.

“Yeah,” he says blearily as the door swings open.

“Eddie, it’s so nice to see you again.” Karen Wheeler says from the other side of the door. “I remember Nancy saying that you moved in with her about a year ago.”

Eddie tries to blink the tired away. “Mrs. Wheeler, hello. Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming to visit.” He steps out of the way so she can enter the apartment.

She walks in and stands awkwardly in the walkway between the kitchen and the living room. “Well, I didn’t know I was coming here until this morning. Is Nancy home?”

“You drove all the way from Indiana to here, that’s quite the trip. And yeah, she’s probably up, hold on a second.”

“Well, it’s been forever since I visited Nancy, and I thought since it’s Mother’s Day, I might spend the day with my daughter. My other kids are either too busy with school or too far to drive so suddenly.”

“Yeah, uh huh,” Eddie mutters as he knocks on Nancy’s door. “Hey, Nance, you up?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

Eddie looks back at Karen with a polite smile. “Could I come in for a second?”

“Sure,” Nancy responds suspiciously.

Eddie quickly opens and shuts the door behind him. “Your mother’s here.”

Nancy sits straighter in the chair by her window. Shutting her book and placing it on the small table beside her. “What. She didn’t tell me she was coming.”

“She apparently didn’t even know she was coming until this morning. It’s at least a five-hour drive from home.”

“She got up at four in the morning just to come visit me. Why?”

Eddie shrugs. “Something about Mother’s Day and her other kids being too busy or something. I don’t know. She looked, ok? Like every other time I’ve seen her. But like, with that crazed fluster she would get when Mike’s friends were over, and your dad refused to get off of that lazy boy he had.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “This could go one of two ways, and I’m not sure either of them will be good.”

She gets up and heads to the living room. Where her mother still stands, hands rubbing together anxiously. “Nancy, I’m sorry to show up out of the blue, I didn’t want to wake you up in the middle of the night with a phone call.”

“That’s ok,” Nancy says with a partially fake smile, giving her mom a hug. “Eddie said you just drove here this morning, you must have left pretty early.”

Karen shrugs. “Yeah, well, you leave early enough, you miss all of the traffic. And the highways are so nice to drive on when no ones around. But, anyway, how are you doing, it’s been a while since we talked.”

“Pretty good. Just working a lot, trying to be able to write something other than stupid tabloids and junk articles. But mom-.”

Eddie groans in the kitchen, opening the empty coffee container. “I’m going to rob Steve and Robin’s for coffee.”

“Ok,” Nancy replies as he shuts the door.

“Steve and Robin still live across the hall,” Karen smiles. “That’s so nice. Do Jonathan and his college friend still live across the street?”

“Argyle,” she reminds. “And yes, they do. Mom-.”

Karen claps her hands. “Oh, I am starving. Why don’t we go out to breakfast? You know, catch up, my treat.”

“It’s Mother’s Day, shouldn’t it be my treat?” Nancy eyes her mother skeptically. Wondering why she really showed up out of nowhere. Got up in the middle of the night just to have a surprise visit.

“Just spending the day with me would be a treat. Go on, get ready, I’ll just wait out here.”

Nancy nods and returns to her room.

-

When Eddie uses his spare key to go into Steve and Robin’s apartment, he expects them both to be asleep. Robin never gets up before noon if she doesn’t have to, and Steve always has the weekends off, so he should be relaxing. Instead, Steve’s sitting in the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear and fingers pinching his nose, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. He barely notices when Eddie enters the apartment.

“No mom, I haven’t seen her since college.” Steve sounds utterly exhausted. “Because we never really talked then either other than that time you came to visit me. Maybe because I’m happy being single. It’s a perfectly respectable job, and I love it. I didn’t want to work with dad.” He sighs as his mom drones on about something. “I didn’t call for this, I called to wish you a happy Mother’s Day. You know, it’s late where you are so how about I let you go. Love you.”

Steve hangs up the phone, placing it face down on the table and letting his head fall into his hands. He stays like that, frozen.

“That didn’t sound fun,” Eddie breaks the silence. Spooning a serving of coffee into a plastic bag.

Steve huffs out a laugh, fixing the glasses on his face and sitting back on the chair. Crossing his arms and shaking his head, avoiding eye contact. “Oh you know, just normal chats with my mother. She can’t go one conversation without trying to set me up with some rich family’s daughter she knows.”

Eddie winces. “Never a nice rich boy in that mix.”

The glare Steve gives Eddie is tired and chilling. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie sits across from Steve. “Sounds like it sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Steve sighs, looking at his phone. “I love my parents, I really do. But sometimes it’s hard to. Especially when they keep trying to set me up with people I don’t even know or get me to change careers. I just wished they respected me more than they did.”

“They should, you have a job you love and so what if you’re single. That’s a pretty great deal if you ask me.”

Eddie’s phone dings.

Nancy: Me and my mom are going out for breakfast

Eddie: Cool, have fun

Nancy: I will try

“If it makes you feel any better, Nancy’s mom showed up unannounced and now they’re going out to breakfast.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Like she drove here this morning?” Eddie nods in confirmation. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah, I know. Still don’t know why she’s here.” Eddie’s stomach rumbles. “God, I’m starving.”

“I haven’t eaten yet, you want to go get something? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

Eddie smiles. “I do not. Let me get changed, I’ll meet you in five.”

-

Nancy thanks their waiter when he brings them their food. Silently piercing the yolk of her egg and watching it run over to her hashbrowns. Karen talking for the both of them.

“Have you talked to your brother recently? Him and Will are settling in well over in New York, their place looks nice. Small, but nice. I’ll have to take a trip out there some time to visit them.”

She just nods along to her mother’s ramblings. Watching as she pauses to take a bite and just continues. Always dodging around the subject of why she’s here whenever Nancy tries to ask.

“It’s so nice that they’re still together after all these years. Not that being alone is anything bad. I miss the single life. Well, I never really had that much of a single life. I met your father in high school and that was that. Part of me wishes I had a few years to explore, like you did. Get to live life before having a family.”

“Yeah,” Nancy interrupts. Coldly. “Why are you here mom?”

Karen looks taken aback. “Is it wrong to visit my daughter?”

“No, it’s not. But you’ve never just drove here on a whim. There was always at least a phone call, booking a hotel stay. Not waking up at four in the morning one night and deciding to drive five hours to come visit me.” Nancy softens her face. “This isn’t like you, what’s going on?”

Karens mouth twitches as she places down her silverware. Fiddling with her napkin. “You know how it was you father’s and my anniversary last week.”

Nancy nods, listening.

“Well, he forgot, again, and I didn’t want to make the plans again this year. I wanted him to surprise me like he did when we were young. With none of the kids in the house anymore, it gets kinda lonely me and him. When I asked that morning, he scrambled to make plans but couldn’t get a reservation anywhere until last night. Where we basically had a silent meal, paid, and left. No surprises, no anything.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I know how dad can be with the romantic stuff.”

Karen sighs. “Any stuff. If it wasn’t me doing everything, nothing would get done. We haven’t even slept in the same bed since Mike went off to college, and that was years ago. I thought maybe we could try and rebuild what we had. Guess I was wrong.”

Nancy frowns. “I didn’t know that.”

“How could you? You never really came home once you graduated, on to bigger and better things. Not that I blame you, I am so proud of you and the life you’ve built here. I just, didn’t want to bore you with the problems in my life. In my marriage.”

“You could have. I would have listened.”

“I appreciate that.” Karens pauses, closing her eyes. “I’ve decided to leave your dad, Nancy. That’s why I came out to visit you.”

Nancy can’t say she’s surprised. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“Don’t be. I haven’t been happy in years, we all knew it was coming. I just don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“Whatever you want,” Nancy smiles. “You get to do whatever you want. Go back to school, get a shitty part time job. Get back out there and find a man you deserve. Find new friends, anything. You get to build a new life.”

Karen smiles, tears shining her eyes. “Well, that’s all true, I guess. Thank you for not judging me for this.”

“I never would.” Nancy goes back to her breakfast. “So, what else would you like to do while you’re in town. I have tomorrow off too.”

“I don’t know. But I am excited to find out.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low,

@thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady,

@apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic,

@fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging,

@potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @gregre369

@my2amgaythoughts

[gretavanlace]

Sugar II (part 3)

18+ plus only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, angst, discussions of alcohol consumption, etc

Thank you all so much for your patience while I was out of town…I love you and never intentionally keep you waiting! You’re my babies!! ❤️❤️

“Why am I always the last to know everything?” Sam slips into Josh’s dressing room, shirtless and as always, slapping along on two bare feet “Is it because I’m the youngest, or are you just an asshole?”

In contrast to his brother, Josh drips in beaded satin; glitter swept deftly across his eyes; rhinestones grabbing at the light until he winks and flashes like a star against its midnight sky.

No one would expect anything less. He is always the first to be found wandering the hallowed arena halls, made up and shining like old Hollywood royalty. It soothes him…a lullaby masquerading as expensively tailored glitz. You used to help him…zipping up jumpsuits he could have easily secured himself, fussing over his hair, lint rolling velvet, laughing and chattering away to keep his mind off that unforgiving anxiety of his. They are memories he cherishes and thinks of nearly every time he primps.

They each have their rituals - Daniel bangs around on a kit until his arms are loose and his mind is buzzing with adrenaline. Sam terrorizes the crew and his brothers with his trusty four-legged sidekick, shaking off the jitters with hijinks. And Jake scrutinizes his gear meticulously, checking the work of techs and roadies who definitely know what they’re doing. He usually finds something to pick apart anyway. It sharpens his focus and quiets his mind.

Josh steps into costume and becomes someone else. Someone he often doesn’t recognize…who is this person with such charisma and grace? He who commands the attention of crowd after crowd roaring and shaking the rafters? He who is worthy of such primal, hungry fervor?

That is how he finds the spotlight night after night. While the others do their own things, Josh quietly dresses and becomes someone, something, else.

And so, draped in his finery, he watches Sam through the mirror as he flops into a chair, all legs and attitude. “By all means, Samuel, make yourself at home.”

“Were you even going to tell me that she’s here? She always liked me best, you know? She was just too sweet to mention it to you idiots.”

Josh turns with a chorus of clattering glass beads, and leans back against the vanity, arms folded “One, I haven’t even seen you since I found out, so you’ll forgive me. Two, I knew Daniel would break his fucking neck to be the first to tell you,” He shrugs, “figured I’d let him have his moment.”

Popping open a White Claw, Sam ignores his brother's carping in favor of a question “You see her yet?”

“Yes,” Josh turns back to his reflection, patting a fingertip lightly over his eye makeup.

Never in possession of any patience to speak of - the baby of the family rarely is - Sam immediately prods him along. “And?”

He’s met with a sigh, “And what? I went to see her, we caught up for a little while, and then I left. That was that.”

“I went to see her,” there’s a mocking, obnoxious quality to Sam’s tone as he parrots Josh “we caught up for a while and then I— would you shut up? What happened? How is she?”

“She’s...I don’t know. She’s herself and not herself. She looked sad.” The revelation comes with a sadness of its own. “She’s getting married, so she shouldn’t have looked so damn miserable...but she did, and I hated it. It almost made me wish I hadn’t even knocked on her door.”

“I’m usually sad when you knock on my door, too.” Sam deadpans, attempting to lighten the mood at least a little.

“Must you lie, Samuel? You’re stricken with joy when I enter a room, just like everybody else.”

“Christ,” Sam mutters, tossing Josh a white claw to match his own, “I swear, if you could suck your own dick, you would.”

Josh cracks it open and slurps with a dramatic flourish, “Obviously.”

“Why do you think she looks so miserable?” Sam is pondering, turning something over in his mind with worry evident in his eyes.

“Probably because she knows she’ll likely have to see you. That’d be my guess, anyway.”

Josh is disguising his own knotted up stomach with humor. Sammy knows it, and chooses to ignore the dig.

They settle into their drinks until Sam speaks up once again, “She’s getting married? That’s just…” he quiets, unsure and still bristling with concern, “How are you gonna tell him? You gotta wait until after the show, that’s for sure.”

For once in his life, Josh has been rendered temporarily speechless, and that answers the question just fine.

“Are you serious?” Sam leans forward, elbows on his knobby knees, “You can’t be serious.”

“How am I going to tell him?” Now they’re just lobbing questions back and forth at one another. “You can’t be serious!”

Sam’s eyes widen, shocked and hurting for Jake in his absence. It would almost be comical if the situation could lend itself to anything other than this crushing weight, “We have to tell him, Josh. This isn’t okay. He has the right to—“

Suddenly, Josh pushes away from the vanity and the energy radiating from him shifts until he looks nearly frantic, “He has the right to what, Sam? To know? To see her? Have you lost your fucking mind? Put him in a room with her and we’re right back where we started. Three years progress,” his fingers snap harshly, “Poof! gone in a goddamn second.”

Matching his energy, Sam is on his feet in an instant, “Progress? Now whose lost his fucking mind? What progress are we talking about here, Josh? Because from where I’m standing, he’s made none. For his twin you’re remarkably ignorant.”

“I’m not ignorant,” this is bad, especially right before they’re expected to perform. They both know it, but on they march. “I know him backwards and forwards, Sammy, so just fucking listen to me for once. She stays in the past for him and that’s just the way it’s gonna be, end of discussion.”

“She stays in his past, or yours?” Sam counters, sizing his eldest brother up as though he can see right through him.

Shoulders slumped, Josh shakes the venom in Sammy’s accusation off “That isn’t fair.”

“I don’t give a shit. Answer the question.”

Sometimes, Sam readies for battle in a manner that always comes as a shock no matter how many times they’ve seen it happen. When he sheds that goofball demeanor in favor of a game face, it hardly seems real.

He is fierce in his love and loyalty to those he holds close, and tonight, Jacob has earned his favor.

“This isn’t about me, I promise you that.” The truth rings out clear in Josh’s vow. “I loved her once, I love her still, just differently now. I couldn’t do that to him. Not ever. The way he loved her canceled me out a long time ago.”

“Loves her.” Sam corrects, with a finger pointed at his brother to drive home his point.

“All the more reason to keep your mouth shut.” Josh’s timbre is threatening in a way it almost never is. It sounds and feels strange…out of place. “She’s getting fucking married, do you really think he can handle that? Use your fucking head, Sam. Leave it alone.”

Hand on the door handle, Sam watches Josh as if he’d very much like to hurt him, “Who are you to decide what he can and can’t handle?”

~

The show is their worst in their collective memory since their days as greenhorns, though it’s doubtful the fans have taken notice. Each mishap is small and easily disguised, but present all the same. They are unsteady and off-kilter, but only Jake is oblivious as to why.

He snaps a string, misses a mark, foils a riff or two. Josh falls flat and overcompensates, vibrato ringing out sharp. Sam refuses to look in his eldest’s brother’s direction, leaving them detached and removed in an unsettling way. Danny is on point from a technical standpoint, but robotic…their chemistry has vanished tonight and they can all feel it.

The moment they stalk off stage, Sam is clamoring for Jake’s attention as Josh fights to intercept.

Most nights, they’ll filter off into their respective solitude for a time to bask in the quiet before the noise of the bus. Tonight, Sam follows Jake, and Josh follows Sam.

“Jake,” Sam jogs along, easily closing the distance his brother has gained ahead of him with those lanky legs of his. “Hold up, I need to talk to you.”

“It can wait.” Jake is on a mission, clearly in a hurry to close a door and shut out the world. To find a bottle and make love to the whiskey inside it.

“No, it can’t because—“

“He said it can wait, Sam.”

Josh’s admonishment, and the viciousness it’s crackling with, is what turns Jake around. It makes no sense for his twin to be this hostile over something so innocuous; over some random conversation Sam would like to have that doesn’t even involve him.

He turns to find Josh’s glare burning murderously in Sam’s direction. The air emanating from him is in such dramatic contrast to the sunny ray of entertaining light that has just been beaming around the stage, and immediately, Jake senses the urgency of the moment.

On his part, Josh feels the switch flip inside his twin and knows that they’re about to head into dangerous territory. Fucking Sam.

“What?” Jake is furiously fumbling with his hair, shoving sweat soaked snarls away from his face, suddenly overstimulated and on edge. “What is it?”

Sammy speaks up, fighting to be heard clearly as crew members dart around and rush by in a flurry of tasks. “She’s here. Well, not here, but at the hotel.”

Defeated, Josh admits his loss with a quiet “God damn it, Sam.”

Jake somehow manages to catch it over the din and he knows. Or at least, he thinks he knows. He can feel it coming off of Josh like ghostly fingers stretching out to claw at his chest. Still, he doesn’t quite understand, the pieces are just this shy from falling into place.

“Who?” His query is tentative…filled with hopefulness and also a strange terror. A fear he’s only ever felt once before, when, helpless and shattered, he had to watch you say goodbye. A torturous longing only you can evoke.

Sam’s lips part to speak, but Josh shoves past him, grabbing Jake by the arm with black beads shaking about on his shoulders. “No one. Go shower. Have a drink.”

Somehow, Josh’s grip tells Jake everything. All that feverish panic seeps into the fabric of his jacket, somehow chilling his flesh with its burn. “She’s here?” His entire body is rattling with frenetic energy and he wonders if he might crumple to the ground and spark like a downed power line if Josh were to let go of him.

“Jake,” his name is a coddling whisper on his twin's lips, “Leave. Now. C’mon, I’ll go with you. You know what’s best, I know you do.”

As it turns out, Jake doesn’t hit the ground like a live wire, because when he shoves Josh off, his footing is sure. “How did you know she was here? You knew? And you weren’t gonna fucking tell me? Have you seen her?”

Ashamed, and afraid of what’s to come, Josh remains silently stoic under his brother’s eager and furious scrutiny.

“I said, have you fucking seen her?” Now Jake’s body is vibrating with a fury so out of control it’s threatening to boil over and scald anyone in its path.

Suddenly, Danny appears as though summoned by the gods of intervention, as he so often seems to be. He steps in, tugging Jake away from his brothers while staring daggers at Sam.

Sam never fucking thinks…or is he the only one who is actually thinking clearly this time around?

“Come on,” Jake is stumbling around on his feet to keep up with a much larger Daniel, as he drags him along to his dressing room.

It feels like a fever dream when at last he pushes Jake into a chair before shutting their brothers out with a door slammed in their faces.

“Look,” he finds a seat in front of Jake and places a hand on his bouncing knee. “You’ve got to calm down and think for a minute. Do you really want to see her? I mean…”

He isn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, because nothing any of them can say will matter anyway.

“Take me to her.” Neither of them could have any way of knowing that Jake’s plea mirrors the one you had struggled to swallow down in Danny’s arms.

“I don’t know where she is.” He speaks in honesty, and Jacob can sense that.

“Find out.” He rises to his feet and straightens his back, resolved and ready to fight for this. Ready to fight for you. “Josh knows, that fuck. Go find out.”

“Alright,” Daniel nods because what’s to be done now? What’s to pointlessly fight? “Shower in here. I’ll go talk to him.”

~

You’re mindlessly staring at the television screen, gaze blurring and focusing in and out as some chef with a lovely accent you can’t seem to place tosses ingredients round a hissing wok.

The entire room is awash in the scent of the shower you’ve just wept your way through, and the robe you’re swaddled in feels stiff and scratchy. You should change, you know, but you haven’t the energy. Better to lie here uncomfortable and twisted up in aching sadness, that old friend of yours whom you’ve denied for far too long.

Lie to yourself all you want. Shove it inside a box and lock it up tight with chains and latches until it rusts shut, but that throbbing agony will wait patiently for you. Never losing focus, ever vigilant for the moment it can blast its way back into your broken heart.

How you’ll ever rise and put on a professional face for brunch in the morning is a cipher you don’t care to decode tonight.

He’s all you can think of; memories of him. Loneliness for him. The need, so real and palpable. It’s as if you can smell him on your skin though he hasn’t swept his fingers across it in years.

Years? How is that even possible? It seems laughable that you’ve managed so long without him. It seems impossible. A nightmare that you’ve been muddling through.

When the knock sounds out, clipped and sure, at your door, you’re tempted to ignore it - and you even give it a go, but it comes again along with a cheery greeting “Room service!”

You haven’t ordered room service at all, but there stands a smart looking hotel employee, dressed to the hilt in his crisp uniform, waiting patiently beside a cart, when you peer through the peep-hole.

Tightening that terrible robe, you crack open the door, readying to let him know he’s made a mistake, when a hand darts out to push several folded up bills into the server’s hand.

Stunned and struck silent, you manage only to stare as Jake gives thanks and sends him on his way, eyes never straying from your face.

He reaches for you instinctively, but thinks better of it and drops those hands you know so well to his sides, flexing them as if to shake the need to touch you away.

Instead, he opts to offer a soft smile and a gentle joke “Hey, sugar, how’d we get to this place where I’ve got to pay off hotel employees to knock on your door for me, hmm?”

“I—“ You give your head a tiny shake, begging the thoughts rattling around inside it to make sense.

He looks so different. His hair is shorter, and he’s filled out, thickened in a way that makes your throat constrict for all you’ve missed. He’s as beautiful as ever. Alluring and changed, but still just him. Familiar and breathtaking. Perfect and right. Yours. But yours no longer.

Strangely, it’s what he’s wearing that makes you weakest and a little unsteady. He’s dressed in tattered sweats and a beaten up t-shirt. Thrashed vans that were stark white in another life, and damp hair, clearly brushed in a hurry. You love this so much more than if he’d strutted back into your life dressed to the nines. You’d hate to think he’d forgotten you enough to think that sort of thing might impress you.

“Are you gonna invite me in or should I just stand out here in the hallway all night watching you?”

A laugh, breathy and dumbfounded, huffs out of you. You remember the first time he’d said those words to you, and surely he does too. Was that a calculated effort on his part? To remind you of where you’ve been together? Of who you were together?

It’s an awful, self-destructive idea, inviting him in, and you know it is, you do. But when he steps into the room, you can smell him and the fist that has been cruelly clenched around your heart for countless days and nights, relaxes and finally, finally, you can breathe.

The door closes with a click and he’s suddenly so close you could taste his breath if you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into it.

“Hi, pretty girl,” He hushes, and you wish his mouth was pressed against your ear so you could secret that quiet greeting away and live on it for the rest of your days.

All that white-hot closeness morphs into a hug. He’s hiding behind the platonic gesture, and so are you, but he can feel it, the way your body tenses and then melts against his own.

He feels as if he might disintegrate into a puddle of blackened anguish if he ever has to let you go, forever staining the horrendous hotel flooring where you once stood like an ethereal phantom sent to mend his heart. But a hideous reminder of where you once existed in this room with him for a few precious moments.

His hands have touched too many bodies to count since he last held you, but he has felt nothing until this moment.

No, he loathes the thought of letting you go, but he pulls back anyway, readying to let you lead this interaction. Alas, his palms find your cheeks all on their own, cupping the beautiful face he’s bartered with the devil for, that he’s prayed to god for, that he’s raged and begged for.

“My girl,” he wonders, like you can’t possibly be real. “My fucking girl.”

Your hands are molded over his, how did that happen? And then he’s releasing your face in order to lace your fingers together…he longs to touch you everywhere, but that isn’t okay any longer, is it? So he’s desperate for a way to latch onto you innocently.

He feels it then, and holds fast when you try to pull your hand away. Gaze - gorgeous honey swirling with caramel and horror - locked in on yours, he turns your hand to inspect the ring perched there like a weapon sent to destroy him.

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