#are all PT teachers morning people

[wejustvibing]

❤️.

[reignpage]

The Other Woman

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true. 

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting. 

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers. 

You keep reminding yourself of that. 

Satoru needs this. 

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by. 

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do. 

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for. 

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here. 

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm. 

You’re the wife. 

You’ve got the ring to prove it. 

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other. 

There’s nothing to be done. 

You can’t interrupt. 

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet. 

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end. 

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back. 

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell. 

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside. 

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him. 

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul. 

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back. 

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry. 

You’re just the woman he did. 

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff, kinda enemies to what, one sided fake dating, highschool, modern au, smoking (reader), kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.8k notes: because of the age difference, caitlyn is in college that's why she's always on calls.. — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

You pick up at the third ring, hearing a deep sigh of relief. “Oh, good, you picked up.”

It's Caitlyn.

You put the phone down for a few seconds to eat your sandwich, before picking the phone back up. “What now?” you ask through a mouthful of sandwich. “I just woke up, y'know.”

The line is silent for a minute.

Then, you hear Caitlyn clear her throat. “Are you busy right now?”

It's 9am on Sunday, of course you're not busy. “Kinda busy eating my breakfast,” you reply, taking another bite. “Why?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end, some muttering, and another pause before Caitlyn speaks again. “I have… a proposition.”

A proposition already, and so early in the morning? you put your sandwich down, sitting up and making sure you heard that right. “I'm listening.”

Caitlyn clears her throat again, and there's sounds of footsteps and whispers in the background, as if she's moving somewhere more secluded. “…Do you know Jinx?”

It's a strange question. Pretty much everyone knows Jinx. “Yeah,” you reply. “Why?”

The shuffling resumes, a few footsteps, and the murmur of voices. “I'll cut to the chase. I'm asking for your help. I need you to do me a favor.”

You pause, raising an eyebrow. What does she want? “Depends on what it is.” You shrug. “And what I'd get in return.” You take a sip from your glass.

The murmuring on Caitlyn's end of the line stops, and you hear the sound of a door clicking shut. “I want you to take Jinx on a date.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “You want me to what?” you manage to ask between coughs.

“It'll be a fake date!” she says quickly. “If you can make this date go smoothly and… make her like you, even a little bit, I'll pay you a hundred dollars.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “100 dollars?!” You cough again. “You can't just throw me under the bus like that. You've lost your damn mind.”

“Please just hear me out,” Caitlyn pleads. “It's not like you have to ask her to marry you. Just think of it as a challenge. You get 100 dollars if you can get her to enjoy a date with you. Come on, you're good with girls, aren't you?”

What does she think you are, some suave James Bond-esque ladykilling playgirl? while you've kissed a couple girls, you can't call yourself super suave. 

“Caitlyn, Jinx hates me.” It's common knowledge. Jinx hates nearly everyone, especially people she was in class with. “She's gonna kill me if I ask her out on a date.” You shudder.

“That's why I chose you for this,” she says. “I figured you were the type to face any challenge head-on.”

“This isn't just a 'challenge', it's a mission for the suicidal,” you retort. “You're setting me up to embarrass myself and get ridiculed in the process.”

You hear her scoff. “So you can flirt and tease the whole damn school, but a date with Jinx is the line you draw, is that it?”

You scowl at her comment. You've been known to flirt and joke around with a few people at school, but that’s all it is—meaningless flirting with no strings attached. This is completely different—this is Jinx we're talking about. “You're comparing apples and oranges here,” you protest. “They're not the same, Cait.”

“Maybe,” she replies. “But I've seen how you've charmed your way out of trouble. You're good at talking your way out of things. And that's exactly what I need right now.”

That's true, but that's with a teacher, or a TA, or a store manager who's trying to bust you for shoplifting. Not with Jinx, of all people.

“Caitlyn, c'mon. She's either gonna punch me in the face, or call me a dumbass, or both.”

“Just listen,” she cuts in. “All you have to do is go on a fake date with her. You don't have to actually like her.”

“No, no, no.” You shake your head, gripping the phone in your hand. “No way, no how.”

“150 dollars.”

“You really, really want me to go on a fake date with Jinx?” you murmur. “Are you that desperate?”

“I'm very desperate.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Why are you so fixated on me doing this?”

You hear movement on the other line, like Caitlyn's pacing back and forth. “Okay, look,” she begins. “I… really like her sister. Like really like her. Like…”

This wasn't just a fake date. It was a way to get closer to who she liked. “Oh. Ohh.”

“Yeah...”

Wow. This was a lot more desperate than you initially thought.

“But why don't you just ask her sister out?” you ask.

“I did.” She sighs again. “I asked Vi out last week, and she said she can't go on a date with me until her sister finds someone. Jinx has to be happy before Vi can go on dates, according to her.”

What the hell kind of ridiculous rule is that? “So let me get this straight,” you start. “You want me to go on a fake date with Jinx.”

“Yes.”

“Until she becomes my... girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“And then you can date Vi.”

“Yes.”

It sounds crazy, ridiculous, batshit insane. “Holy shit, Caitlyn.” You run your fingers over your eyes, shaking your head to yourself. “All of this just so you can get laid?”

A huff comes from the other end of the line. “Are we making a deal or not?”

“Hey, wait a minute—I'm gonna need the money first,” you say, drumming your fingers against the table.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” you explain. “You know, the whole dating thing. Dates, food, gas, that kinda stuff. You can't expect me to pay for all of that with my own money.”

Caitlyn doesn't respond immediately. You can hear some shuffling, and you can imagine her biting her lower lip anxiously, maybe staring out the wall.

“There's a high probability I won't even get a Harley after all this,” you add. 

Silence.

“So I'm gonna need the money...”

There's a pause, then an annoyed hiss. “Don't you trust me?”

“Oh hell no. Give me the money first and then I'll consider the deal.”

She sighs. “Fine. Whatever, I'll give you the money.”

“All of it?”

“…Yes. All of it. All 150. For your shitty, awful fake date.” She huffs. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

—

You step into the office, finding Caitlyn's mother already hunched over her laptop, staring over the rim of her glasses. You hated coming into this office. It always felt like you were in the principal's office.

“I see we're making our visits a weekly ritual,” Mrs. Kiramman says, staring at you over her laptop. 

“Only so we can have these moments together,” you reply, your mouth already curving into a grin. “Should I, uh, get the lights?”

Mrs. Kiramman sighs, her eyes scanning over the paper in front of her. “Exposed yourself... in the cafeteria,” she mutters. “I seriously don't understand why my daughter associates herself with you.”

“It was for a good reason, I swear.”

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrow. “And what reason is that?”

“I was joking with the lunch lady,” you explain, spreading your hands out. “She was being snippy with me, so I started unbuttoning my shirt, it's not like I was actually going to flash anyone.”

Mrs. Kiramman takes off her glasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, her other hand coming to rest on her forehead.

“But I suppose if we've already looked through all my wrongdoings, you can release me back into the wild, eh?” you continue.

“Just... make it more than a week before coming back here, alright? I don't want to see you in my office every week—you're a walking headache.”

“Sure thing, Mrs. K.”

“And stop calling me Mrs. K.”

—

Jinx kicks the ball here and there, back and forth, side to side. She's taking all of her frustrations out on this ball, dribbling it down the field, passing it to her teammates, dodging opponents.

Her moment of peace is interrupted when a player tries to intercept her pass. She grins, dribbling out of the way and kicking the ball hard into the player's face. 

The coach blows the whistle. “Great practice, everybody!”

Practice over. Jinx tosses the ball aside. She rubs her eyes with the heel of her hands, a headache thudding against her skull. She bends forward to grab her water bottle from the edge of the field, taking generous swigs from the bottle.

Jinx is the captain of her high school's soccer team. She's good—really good. She has quick feet and a mean kick, and she's scored a lot of points for the team. In games, however… Jinx is aggressive. She kicks hard. She kicks fast. She kicks a lot. She does not pull her punches when it comes to her opponents.

She's halfway done guzzling water when a voice interrupts her.

“Hey there, girlie.”

Jinx pauses, swallowing the last of the water in her bottle. She glances up at you, watching you approach her as you shove your hands into your pockets.

“How ya doin'?” 

“Sweating like a pig actually,” she replies, pulling out a small towel and wiping her face. “And yourself?”

You hum, rocking back and forth on your feet. “I'm good. Just thought I'd come and chat with our wonderful captain.”

Jinx grumbles as she slings the towel over her shoulder.

“That was quite a performance out there,” you continue, raising a hand to give her a slow clap. “You were brutal today. Worse than usual, not-gonna-lie.”

Gathering her stuff, Jinx zips up her bag, slings it across one shoulder, then strides past you.

“Hey,” you say, quickly catching up to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think, genius? I'm leaving.”

You huff, following her as she marches out of the soccer field. “Pick you up on Friday, then.”

Jinx makes a face at that. “Oh, right, Friday,” she mimics. “Uh-huh.”

You cock a smirk. “Well, the night I take you places you've never been before.”

“Like where? The 7-Eleven on Broadway?”

“Ha, very funny.” You shake your head. “And actually, no, smartass.”

“Do you even know me?” she asks, not slowing her pace.

You hurry to keep up and shrug. “Yeah, we have the same class on science and english.”

She stops in her tracks and turns to look at you, eyes flitting up and down, up and down. Once, twice, three times. “You're the one that never shows up in Mr. Viktor's class?”

“Hey, to be fair,” you say, putting your hands up. “That's an 8 a.m. class. No one shows up for an 8 a.m. class at ass o'clock in the morning.”

Her expression remains unamused as she shifts her bag's backpack strap further off her shoulder. “Except you're the only one who never shows up. You have the same attendance rate as Mr. Blitzcrank,” she tells you, turning back around to start walking. “Which is absolutely none.”

“What can I say?” You chuckle, jogging to catch up to her again. “I'm very talented. Gifted, even.”

She mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like “Talented at being an idiot, more like.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

“Good,” she says over her shoulder. “Maybe don't try to impress me with your shitty grades and your non-existent attendance record next time, then.” Without a second glance, she continues walking, leaving you behind.

“Ouch!” you exclaim. “Rude, by the way!” you shout at her, and you see a flash of a smile over her features.

—

Jinx stands at her locker, gathering her books—a variety of books with names like Introduction to Rocketry, Engineering and Architecture, Chemistry Vol. 3: Chemical Reactions, Organic and Inorganic Compounds and Mixtures, and a few other engineering books, all with worn spines and yellow pages.

“Hey,” you greet.

She doesn't even glance at you as she continues sorting through her books, shoving what she doesn't need aside with a flick of her wrist.

“You hate me, don't you?” you ask, leaning against the locker beside her.

She gives you a side glance but doesn't fully look away from her locker. “What are you, five?” she asks. “I don't really care enough about you to hate you.”

“Rude.”

“It's the truth. As far as I'm concerned, you're better than a mosquito,” she says, continuing with sorting through her locker. “Annoying, but not something worth paying attention to.”

“Mosquito, really?”

She slams her locker shut and locks it. She turns to look at you, adjusting her backpack straps on her shoulders—a backpack that is covered in various patches and colorful pins. “What exactly do you want?”

“Spend Dollar Night at the track with me.”

She arches one eyebrow. “And why the hell would I do that?”

“Come on, the ponies, the flat beer... you with money in your eyes, me with my hand on your ass…”

“You covered in my vomit,” she cuts you off. “That's what's going to happen. If I go within ten feet of whatever greasy-ass food joint and cheap liquor you're going to take me to.”

“Damn, you're feisty. I kinda like that.”

She scowls at your words. “And you're annoying. I kinda despise that.”

“Ouch,” you mock. “And you're a bit more than feisty. You're like... feisty on steroids. Are you always like this?”

Her scowl deepens, and in one second, she suddenly has one of your arms twisted behind your back and pinned to your torso.

She leans forward, her face so close to yours. “Maybe, if you stopped annoying me,” she whispers. “I'd stop acting like this.”

You flinch, letting out a low hiss. “Ow, ow-” You try to pull away from her grip, but she only tightens it. “Ow, okay, I get it—let go, let go!” 

She holds you still for a moment longer before roughly releasing her grip. You stagger forward, rubbing the spot where her hand had been. “What-” you gasp “-the hell was that for?”

“Consider it a learning experience, dipshit,”  she snaps, before stalking off, her long blue braid swinging behind her.

“You can't just-” you start to call after her, but she's already halfway down the hall. You huff rubbing your sore arm. 

Yep. Jinx is as prickly as a cactus. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

—

“She's a freaking Ronda Rousey,” you mutter into the phone, massaging your throbbing arm. “She damn near twisted my arm off!”

“Jinx? Did she hurt you?”

“Just my dignity.”

You hear Cait chuckle faintly. “I'll take that to mean it didn't go very well?”

“You could say that,” you grumble. “She's difficult.” You watch your clothes spin around in the washing machine. “I think this may take longer than you think, Cait. Waaay longer.”

“I can't just flirt my way through this,” you go on, moving to grab one of the nearby magazines to distract yourself. “She's smart, witty, and sassy—the whole package. Very pretty, too. But she's rude.” You shift your phone to fit between your shoulder and ear.

“Rude,” you stress again, flipping to a magazine page with random trivia questions on it. “Who the hell is rude these days? It's all sugarcoating, bullshit, and fake smiles.” You glance idly at the question titled 'How Compatible Are You with Your Ideal Partner?'. You scoff, turning the page. “She's downright ruthless.”

“Have you even tried asking her out?”

“Hell yes I have. I even tried asking her to go to Dollar Night at the track.”

“You tried asking her to go to the race track?”

“You don't think she's a fan of ponies and alcohol?” you reply, grinning.

“I think she's a fan of punching you in the face.”

“Yeah, she did not like that idea.”

There's a pause on the line.

“Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the smoothest plan.”

“Or smartest,” Cait interjects. “Anyway, are you reading a magazine right now?”

“I'm at the laundromat.”

“And you're reading a magazine.”

“To pass the time,” you justify.

“Mhm.”

“I'm boooored.” You set the magazine down on a nearby chair, turning back to watch your clothes spin around. “And I'm tired of watching my clothes spin around. It's boring. I haven't had a good date in ages.” You move to rest your head against the glass. “I need something interesting. Someone interesting.”

Your eyes move across the storefronts and streets outside of the laundromat.

Wait… It can't be...

But, yes.

Yes it is. It's Jinx's car.

Your gaze focuses on the shiny blue vehicle before shifting to Jinx, who gets out of the car and walks over to a nearby music store just down the road.

You hear Caitlyn's muffled voice. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, Cait, I heard you,” you lie, taking your eyes off her car to turn your attention back to the washing machine and your phone. “Uh, I'll call you back. I think I just saw Jinx.”

—

Jinx pushes the entrance door open, juggling a small bag of CDs in one hand and rifling through her purse in the other. Her lips form a small 'o' when she finally pulls her keys out...

...and looks up to see you sitting on the hood of her car. She groans to herself.

“Nice ride. Vintage fenders.” You turn around to face her, leaning back against the hood.

Jinx stops a few feet away from you, shifting the bag of CDs to the other hand. “Are you following me?”

“Nah,” you shrug. “I was at the laundromat,” you pause, gesturing to the building in front of the store she just walked out of. “Saw your car. Thought I'd say hi.”

“Hi,” she grumbles.

Jinx walks over to her car, but you quickly stand ahead of her, placing yourself between her and her vehicle. “You're not afraid of me, are you?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?” she retorts, her nose wrinkling.

“Some people are,” you reply. 

“I'm not.” “Maybe you're not afraid of me… but I bet you've thought about me naked.” You smirk, taking the time to wink at her.

“Am I that transparent?” she mutters. “I want you... I need you... Oh, baby, oh baby.” Jinx rolls her eyes dramatically as she tries to step around you, but you shift your body to block her path again.

“Now, don't ignore me,” you tease.

“Let me pass, I have places to be,” Jinx says irritably, trying to step around you for the third time, only for you to once again move and block her.

“Come on now,” you urge. “Just a few minutes of your time.”

“You're being a pest,” she complains. “What do you want?”

“Just a little bit of your time, that's all,” you answer, holding your hands up in surrender before resting them back on the car. “C'mon. You don't have anything better to do anyway, right?”

“Piss off,” Jinx snaps, reaching out and grabbing the handle. The door swings open, throwing you off balance and causing you to topple forward.

Jinx throws the bag into the passenger seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car. She doesn't hesitate to throw the car in reverse, and you have to lunge out of the way to avoid being hit.

RUDE! You scowl in Jinx's direction, watching her drive away. With a sigh, you reach into your pocket and grab your phone, heading back into the laundromat. You begin to dial Caitlyn's number.

The phone only rings once before it's picked up immediately. “Well? what happened?” she starts without any sort of introduction.

“I just upped my price,” you declare.

“What?”

“200 dollars a date.” You stand your ground. “In advance.”

“And why are you increasing the price?”

You sigh heavily, rubbing your forehead. “I told you she's difficult,” you remind her. “She's prickly, short-tempered, and violent,” you explain. “I'm increasing my price because I'm taking a hell of a lot more risk dealing with her.”

“Forget it.”

“Forget her sister, then.”

Silence falls for a heartbeat. Then, reluctantly, she grunts. “Fine. 200 dollars a date. But I want results.”

“No promises,” you warn her. “And first things first, we need to find some way to make Jinx actually want to go on a date with me. How well do you know her?”

Caitlyn hums. “She's Vi's sister, so we have some, ah…” She searches for the correct word. “History,” she finishes awkwardly. “But I'm not an expert on Jinx's inner workings, if that's what you're asking.”

“Great.” That really wasn't the answer you were hoping for. How was it that Caitlyn was apparently able to make this plan without knowing anything about Jinx? “Do you think Vi would have anything?”

“...Maybe,” she responds slowly. “I could probably ask Vi.” She pauses. “Actually,” Caitlyn continues. “I might know someone who... might know Jinx pretty well.”

“Who?”

“Ever heard of a kid named Ekko?”

—

He glances over his shoulder at you, a paintbrush in hand. “What do you want?”

After a bit of searching, you're able to find Ekko at his usual spot—painting the empty space on the school wall. Some of your friends mentioned that he usually hung out here during free periods.

“I want to know about your friend... Jinx.”

Ekko rolls his eyes, resuming his painting. “Yeah, sure, stranger I don’t even know.”

You huff in annoyance. “Alright, listen,” you begin. “I'm not here to cause trouble, or gossip, or any of that. I…” you pause, shifting uncomfortably. “I'm trying to ask Jinx out on a date,” you explain. “So I thought you might be able to help me.”

That makes Ekko pause. He blinks slowly, slowly glancing back over his shoulder at you. “…You're shitting me, right?”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I'm being serious, alright? and I'm not getting into some of the details, but I…” you pause awkwardly. “I kind of need this date to happen.”

“You need this date?” Ekko echoes, staring at you. “The hell does that mean?”

“I mean,” you reply, avoiding direct eye contact. “I just need it to happen, and for reasons I'm not going to disclose,” you add. “I need it to go really well. You get me?”

Ekko scoffs but nods his head. “Sounds like you're desperate or something.” He sets his brush down, turning around to face you. “Why Jinx, anyway?”

“I…” you start, not really sure how to explain this to Ekko without spilling every detail. “Let's just say my reasons are my own.”

“Hm.” He studies you up and down. “First off, who the hell even are you? how do I know you're not some creep trying to take advantage of Jinx?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but then close it and sigh. “Okay, you have a point,” you admit. “But listen,” you soothe. “I'm not a creep. I'm a senior student, like you and Jinx. I want to ask Jinx on a date, and no one really knows her all that well, so I thought you could help me because she's your friend-”

Ekko shakes his head, picking up the brush once again. “Nah we're not that close anymore.” He gives you a sidelong glance. “Jinx and I used to be close friends a few years ago,” he explains, returning his attention to the painting. “But things between us… got complicated.”

Juicy. But that’s none of your business, and definitely not Ekko's place to share. So you move on, clearing your throat. “Right. Um… Okay, so back to Jinx,” you begin. “You still know her better than most, right? you must have some good insight on her.”

“I don't know,” he replies slowly. “Yeah, I know a bunch of things about Jinx. But… honestly, there's just as much that I don't know.” He starts painting again. “She changes her mind like… every five seconds. She's unpredictable. Reckless. Wild. Dangerous.”

“I'm not here to psychoanalyze Jinx,” you clarify. “I just need to know… how the hell to even talk to her one-on-one, without her throwing a pencil at me or something.”

Ekko snorts. “Oh, that's easy.” He glances at you through his eyelashes. “Good luck.”

—

“Of all the places you want to meet up, you chose here?”

You straighten up and glance over at Caitlyn, who's standing off to the side, looking around the place. She looks rather out of place here, especially compared to the other customers in the pub—greasy-looking old men, rough-looking teenagers dressed in leather and denim, and drunken bums hanging around the slots.

Caitlyn grimaces as another patron spits tobacco juice to the floor. “Gross…” she mutters, wrinkling her nose.

You shrug, taking a puff from your cigarette. “You're never late,” you reply. “And this place is never busy. Figured it would give us privacy.”

“Right.” Caitlyn takes a seat on a nearby stool, folding her legs neatly. “So… how's Ekko?”

You line up the cue ball to the 8, taking one last look down the table before glancing at Caitlyn. “Um… he's good,” you reply. “A bit unhelpful, but that's alright.”

You aim the cue ball at the 8 again and give it a good hard smack, watching it glide across the table. It hits the 8 ball, which rolls a few inches before stopping. Damn. You’re just off.

“What about you, how's Vi?” you ask, taking a drag from your cigarette and exhaling a billowing cloud of smoke. You set the pool stick down.

Caitlyn coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face to try and clear the smoke away from her lungs. It doesn't work very well. “First thing you should know...” She snatches the cigarette from your hand and drops it to the floor. “She hates smokers.” She stomps on the butt to snuff it out.

“So, you’re telling me that I'm a-” You make air quotations with your fingers. “-non-smoker.”

“For now, yes.”

“Alright, alright. No smoking, got it.” You lean your pool cue on the wall. “Happy?”

“Another thing…” She purses her lips, eyes flicking over your features. “Vi mentioned that Jinx… likes pretty girls.”

Silence.

“Are you telling me I'm not pretty?”

Caitlyn jumps as soon as the words leave your mouth. “N-no!” She gestures at you. “You're pretty. Definitely pretty.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.”

Caitlyn reaches into her pocket, pulling out a thick sheet of paper with a few bullet points written on it. “Anyways… there's more.” She glances over the list, then looks back up at you. “Jinx likes: …art, drawing, bombs, explosions, tinkering, sweets, plushies, dogs, punk music...” She continues reading down the list. “Dislikes: teachers, school, rules, authority figures, boredom, being told what to do, being ignored…” 

She shoves the list into your hands, and you stare down at the words written in neat, orderly rows. “That's everything that I could get out of Vi.”

A few likes and a bunch of dislikes—what an absolute nutcase.

You look back up at Caitlyn. “So what does that give me? am I supposed to… bribe her with art supplies, draw her a picture, give her some sweets, then blow up a building?”

“Have you ever been to The Last Drop?”

You respond with a nod. You've been there a few times... it's usually filled with shady people, but the alcohol is reasonably priced.

“Letters to Cleo will be playing there tomorrow night.” 

“No.”

“Come on, it's just one night-” Caitlyn coaxes.

“No.”

She gives you a nudge. “Just assail your ears for one night. It's her favorite band, after all.”

It's a stupid idea. Spending your free time in a bar, listening to some god-awful music? It's the perfect recipe for a terrible night.

But if it's what Jinx likes...  “Fine.”

“Atta girl,” Caitlyn grins, clearly satisfied. She pulls out her phone, glancing down at the time as her fingers dance over the screen. “Oh… and I'm throwing a party on Friday night,” she says, looking back up at you. “It's the perfect opportunity.”

You blink. “Opportunity for what?”

“For you to ask out Jinx, of course.”

“…I'll think about it.”

—

Your car pulls up to a stop out front, the engine making a low noise. You step out of the car and start walking towards the entrance when you notice Sevika standing outside.

Sevika looks up, and her lips stretch into a smirk as she sees you. “Ah, my friend,” she greets. “It's been a while.”

You shake her hand. “It's good to see you again, Sev.”

Sevika eyes you up, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn't have you pegged for a fan,” she says. “Aren't they a bit too pre-teen belly-button ring for you?”

“Just a fan of a fan,” you reply. 

The door is slightly ajar, and you can faintly make out the music coming from inside.

“Did a blue-haired girl come in by chance?”

Sevika nods towards the door. “Just sent her through. She's with some other gal.”

You nod and head towards the entrance when Sevika calls out to you. “What happened to that girl you brought in last time?”

Ah, right. It has been a few months. “I dunno,” you reply with a shrug. “I just never called her again.”

Sevika chuckles and shakes her head. “That figures.”

You squeeze through the crowded floor and eventually find an open spot at the bar. The music from the stage is so loud you can feel the floor vibrating under your feet.

You flag down the bartender and place an order, then start idly scanning the crowd. You can make out a flash of blue hair, and your gaze lands on Jinx singing along to the chorus of the song.

You rest against the counter and watch Jinx dancing along to the music. She’s happy, and surprisingly, no “attitude” is present—not the usual scowls, or frowns, or cold looks.

Seeing her like this… giddy, with a wide smile and flushed face, makes you find yourself… smiling.

Huh. That’s... something.

—

Jinx, who is thisclose to having her eardrums explode, yells at the top of her lungs, “I NEED AGUA!”

“Sorry, what?” Lux yells over the music.

“I need agua!” Jinx yells again.

“Agua?”

Jinx nods and points to the bar.

“Alright!” Lux yells, but Jinx is already pushing past her through the crowd.

Jinx manages to reach the bar and signals for the bartender. She glances around as she waits, her eyes landing on you a few feet away. 

Shiiit.

Before she can catch your eyes, you look at a random patron nearby, pretending to be looking at something else.

The bartender walks up to Jinx, shouting over the music. “What can I get for you?”

“Two waters,” she responds, casting a glance back in your direction only to find you completely focused on the stage.

The bartender brings out a pair of water bottles from the cooler and sets them on the counter. Jinx fishes out some change and pays, then grabs the water bottles.

She approaches from behind and raps a knuckle on your shoulder. “If you're planning on asking me out again, you might as well do it already.”

Playing dumb, you gesture back at the stage. “Do you mind? you're kind of ruining it for me.”

Jinx seethes, but stays where she is. “You're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke.”

The music dies down for a while to give the band a rest, so you no longer have to yell over the music. You turn to face her. “I know. I quit.”

“You... did?” Jinx gives you a weird look, trying to figure out your angle here. “Are you feeling alright?”

That's a pretty fair question, to be honest, because for once in your life, you're actively not trying to flirt with someone.

What's even more weird is that Jinx is actually engaging with the conversation. Jinx moves closer to the stool, standing beside you. “Since when?”

You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze. “Since… yesterday.”

“Yesterday? you quit smoking just yesterday?”

“Just yesterday.”

Jinx looks you up and down. “Why?”

You look over at the band, who are currently changing out their gear. “Because... apparently they're bad for you,” you mumble. With a shrug, you gesture back towards the stage. “They're no Bikini Kill or the Raincoats,” you reply. “But they're alright.”

You step into the crowd, and Jinx is surprised enough to be momentarily stupefied. “Wait-” she sputters before following you. “You know who the Raincoats are?”

You stop in the middle of the crowd, spinning to face her. “Why? don't you?” you ask. “I saw how you were dancing out there. I’ve never seen you look like that...”

“I.. well, I-” she stutters, before clearing her throat and collecting herself. “Yeah, I do,” she replies. “I'm into grunge and punk and stuff. Ever heard of Nirvana?”

You scoff. “Of course. Who hasn't?”

Jinx laughs, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear it. “Yeah, fair point. What about... Siouxsie and the Banshees?”

“Love them. But you can't tell me you don't know The Damned?”

Jinx's eyes light up at the mention of The Damned. “Hell yeah, they're awesome,” she exclaims, before frowning. “Wait, how do you know The Damned?”

You give yourself a pat on the back. Nailed it. “Excuse you, I have excellent taste in music,” you reply. “How do you know The Damned?”

“I'll have you know, I'm very into music,” she retorts. “I've got a collection of 1300 CDs. Mostly punk and grunge, but some 70s rock and other stuff.”

Her response is a pleasant surprise to you… and maybe attractive. But you squash that thought down because she's Jinx, and no way are you going to feel your heart flutter at anything this woman does.

You whistle. “Only 1,300? That's cute. I have almost 2,000.” 

“No way.” She shakes her head. “No WAY you have 2,000 CDs. You're bluffing.”

“I'm not,” you insist. “I've got 2,000 pieces of music in my home.”

“Damn. You got me beat, then.” She looks around the club, then looks back at you. “Anyway, I gotta-”

“Come to Caitlyn's party with me. Friday night,” you cut her off.

“-Why should I?” 

“-Because I guarantee you'll have a fantastic time.” 

She laughs at your persistence. “You never give up, do you?” she mutters before walking away through the large crowd.

“Was that a yes?” you yell after her.

Her only response is a middle finger held high in the air.

You cup your hands around your mouth. “I'll see you at 9:30 then!”

This is good. Not great, maybe, but not awful either. You didn't get kicked in the face for asking, so you're taking that as a win.

—

“How did it go?”

You tap your fingers on the steering wheel. “Hey, Cait…” you hesitate, glancing around at the empty street. “How much money does it take to buy 2,000 CDs?”

The line goes dead.

…

After a few minutes of silence, it rings again.

“You've got to be kidding me.”

[cains-daughters]

dating stefan salvatore headcannon (pt 1?)

needed to start my own fanfict page to scratch my own nasty, daydreaming mind because i'm rewatching my fave shows/movies n im obsessed (sorry for typos its 2am n i dont care)

warning: some nsfw shit, minors go away

he's literally the type of guy that your grandma wants you to marry

he feeds the sapiosexual bitches; conversations with him are so fucking intellectually stimulating and while he's talking about a topic/explaining it, you're just staring at him like "this man is so damn smart... I need to ride him" (lol)

has history teacher vibes/has teacher kink vibes sorry but he would def see how turned on you get while he's talking and use it to his advantage

slow mornings with stefan>>>>>>

hearing "good morning baby" as he's stretching/getting closer/putting his arm under your tits to hug you while you're still in bed😵‍💫😵‍💫

he will def love to spend alone time with you, just being in each others solitude while being in the same room reading, writing, drinking coffee or just thinking

you basically give him the opportunity to create more peace and silence in his life in between all crazy shit

because you're not in the supernatural world, he would try so fucking hard to protect you from even knowing of it. will even compel you without thinking at the beginning if you find out and would confess everything if it puts you in a life threatening situation

people will use this to their advantage but somehow he got Damon to be protective over you and you will have both of their protection

Damon can't stand how you complement each other, he feels like having two Stefans giving him advice but he mostly listens to you because you're hot to him lmao

When you first met Damon all he could do is disrespectfully flirt with you just to make Stefan mad

Stefan writing you poems, novels and dedicating journals for you in which he writes love letters (I NEED HIMMM)

he loves slow, deep, intimate makeout sessions. having you on his lap or sitting infront of him while he's holding you with one hand on the lower back and another one on the back of your head guiding you while he grips your hair not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to want him to face fuck you <3

he's dominant, he truly enjoys leading you and not just sexually, he will always be giving you non-sexual dominance like guiding you in crowded spaces, makes decisions for you if you need assistance, will be watching you/making eye contact with you if not together in the same room

he loves having you sit on his feet while your head rests on his lap and he caresses your face and plays with your hair (I NEEEED HIIIMMMMMUGHHHHH) (also this gives me Klaus/Elijah Mikaelson vibes im dead)

im so tired, but i will sleep thinking about our daddy Stefan Salvatore AMEN and i wanna write more shit PEACE

[struwberrii]

haikyuu!! at an american high school ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

here are my silly headcanons on how i think the karasuno first years would act if they were american high school students teehee

pt.2 pt.3

ヽ(^◇^*)/

hinata

probably runs to lunch

one of those dorky try hards in gym

wears matching neon nike shorts and tops

literally cries if he ever gets in trouble in class

water bottle flips randomly (he never lands it)

his mom drops him off at school every morning

jumps to touch the top of every doorframe

everyone judges him and thinks hes weird but hes gen the sweetest guy if you ever talk to him

he has a phone he just cant bring it to school guys

offers to do stuff first when the teacher asks (like brings attendance to the office or asks other teachers for dry erase markers)

middle school humor (hes kinda funny sometimes tho lol)

kageyama

lets you copy his homework because he knows its all wrong (or gives you wrong answers on purpose)

wears hoodies everyday even during summer

scared to put lip balm on in public because someone once asked if he was gay because of how he applied it

friends with hinata but is kind of embarrassed of him

girls actually like him but dont talk to him because hes so quiet

probably talks to girls from different schools

plays roblox with the others when they have breaks during practice (he hasnt updated his avatar since 2016)

still reads strictly picture books

also a try hard in gym

still does streaks on snapchat

tsukishima

refuses to acknowledge hinata and kageyama outside of volleyball club (he thinks theyre embarrassing)

constantly gets in trouble for having airbuds in or being on his phone

tries putting girls onto his niche music taste then its just cigarettes after sex

if you arent one of his friends or a pretty person hes probably gonna be rlly mean to you im sorry

has hot topic pins on his bag (yamaguchi forces him to shop there with him and tsuki always ends up walking out with a new pin)

dresses very basic but still nice

bros a bully

tries to correct teachers and make the teacher look dumb

if he can tell he actually hurt your feelings he'll say it was just a joke and gaslight you

him and yamaguchi just talk shit all lunch and study period

walks to like mcdonalds for lunch sometimes

yamaguchi

bully on the DL

the only reason people know hes mean is because tsuki is his best friend

always has fruit for lunch

probably in band and plays literally the biggest instrument in the world

he always smells weirdly minty

has the silliest stickers on everything, his notebooks, laptop, headphones

bought sonny angels for him and tsuki

everyone thinks hes gay

him and yachi are art class buddies

brings his switch to school sometimes

rides his bike to school

lowkey stuck in his 2020 indie phase

yachi

has the cutest stationary

takes all her notes on her ipad and has that paper texture screen protector

ali express warrior

shes the sweetest girl in school

probably a closeted lebanese

already has her drivers permit (probably gonna be the first person in her grade with a license)

packs her own lunches everyday in bento boxes

has a private instagram account with like 20 followers and declines everyone she doesnt know personally

always has lotion, gum, perfume, medicine, chargers, everything. she is not taking any chaces

shes like if the 2019 soft girl pinterest aethetic became a person

reminds teachers about the homework

secretly watches youtube during class

she does NOT play about her art projects

her and yamaguchi trade stickers

probably still uses that 2019 kanken vsco bookbag

⋆｡‧˚ʚɞ˚‧｡⋆

sorry guys half of this list is just me being an extreme hater and projecting

[mymindisneverhere]

Just Keep Breathing

Summary: Terry teaches you some important breathing techniques. 

warnings: 18+ (MDNI!), SMUT, anxiety, stage fright, drunk sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it, use of the n-word (barely), dirty talking (forgive me if I missed any)

Masterlist

a/n: I wrote this at 4 in the morning cause I couldn’t sleep and I barely edited it chile. Enjoy!

Now back to writing Favors, Pt. 6 will be up in a few days! 🩵

You held onto your chest as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. Your mind was racing, so many thoughts were happening all at once. You felt a migraine sit in the back of your head and slowly begin to spread throughout your temple. You shook almost as if it were freezing where you were but the temperature was just fine. Another anxiety attack… 

It had been months since the last time you felt this way. You had picked up on a few tools and techniques that helped you to bring your anxiety down to zero when you felt it build in your nervous system. Along with the techniques, you had your boyfriend who did an amazing job at helping you stay grounded. Terry was patient and understanding, there was never a moment where he made you feel like your situation was too much for him. 

“Breathe baby, just breathe.” He coached you through this moment. 

You were preparing to perform your poem for the first time in two years. You fell in love with poetry as a teenager with help from your favorite English teacher who introduced you to different types of poetry and famous poets. Poetry was your way of expressing your innermost feelings, especially when you couldn’t find the strength to say them out loud. 

There were two people ahead of you, you still had plenty of time to ground yourself. You still had plenty of time to bring your mind into the present moment and stop worrying about the future because the future didn’t exist. 

“Inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight.” Terry walked you through one of the breathing techniques you learned from him. “I’ll breathe with you.” 

You did exactly what he told you to do, inhaling and exhaling at the same time as him. You looked up at him as you continued focusing on your breathing, completely unconcerned with the stage fright that had consumed you a few minutes ago. He stared down at you, having you repeat the technique until he could sense a calmness wash over your face. 

Your body began to relax as you continued breathing. Your heart rate returned to normal, your headache slowly began to fade and your body was back to its resting state. Closing your eyes for a few seconds, grateful that you had him by your side, you opened them slowly and looked up at him. 

“I think I’m okay.” You said, letting him know that he can free himself of the worry he had for you. 

“You sure?” He asked. He wasn’t trying to push you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with doing. All you had to do was say the word and he’d get you home where you felt safe and secure. Just the two of you. 

But you needed to face your biggest fear. Being seen in the spotlight, displaying your talents while allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable in front of an auditorium full of strangers. 

“I’m fine baby, honestly.” You smiled, watching his expression soften. “Thank you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too!” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you prepared to go on stage. 

“Next up we have, (reader) coming to the mic.” The host announced. The crowd snapped as you walked onto the stage. You slowly walked to the microphone that sat on the stand. You sent a silent thank you to the creator above, grateful that it was already at the right height for you. Fondling with the mic stand would’ve sent you down another spiral and there was no time for that. 

Snaps filled the room as you thanked the crowd before disappearing backstage. Once you were completely out of the audience's view, you ran to Terry, jumping into his arms. He spun you around as you held onto his neck, legs wrapped around his torso. You did it! You had finally faced your biggest fear and you did it with no mess ups, no stuttering, no overthinking. It was almost as if the joy you gained from writing took over during your performance. There was no room for jitters when your passion was the only thing driving you during the few minutes you spent on stage. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Terry exclaimed, still holding onto you, squeezing you tightly as you laughed in his ear. 

“That was so fun, I wanna do it again.” You sounded like a kid, getting the chance to engage in the “big kid” activities for the very first time in life. 

After what seemed like a few minutes of you two embracing one another, you were placed on the ground again. Other contestants gave you well wishes and good jobs as they passed by, some who had already performed and others preparing for their performances. 

“I found two seats up front.” Terry said, grabbing your hand and leading you into the audience. 

You sat in the crowd listening to the other poets and man were they phenomenal. The passion that exuded as they shared their art, the emotions that filled the room as they spoke into mics. You were slowly beginning to shrink into your seat, already accepting your loss for the night. 

‘At least I faced my fears, that’s a win to me.’ You thought to yourself, preparing to lose so that it wouldn’t hit as hard when it finally became reality. Terry reached down and placed a soft hand on your leg, it had been bouncing for the past five minutes now. Your anxiety was getting to you once again. 

Thoughts of not being good enough, wishing you had worded it differently, paused a bit more for dramatic effect. Or maybe you paused too much and that made it seem artificial. The thoughts were consuming you as each contestant came and went. 

“Now the winners of the 2024 Fall Aggie City Poetry Slam.” 

The third place winner was announced, a young girl in her early twenties. She went up on the stage and accepted her award, smiling from ear to ear. So you didn’t get third place, second and first were still open but they seemed too good to be true. You could settle for second and be 100% okay with it. 

The second place winner was announced, a middle aged man who seemed too cool for a poetry slam. He accepted his award, straight face, a quick thank you and hurried off the stage and back to his seat. You looked down at your hands, accepting your defeat before it came. Terry looked over at you noticing your energy shift but kept quiet. Even though you were accepting your potential loss, he knew it wasn’t over just yet. They still had one more winner to announce and although your faith in yourself was slim to none, he decided to carry the majority of it for you. 

“The winner of our 2024 Aggie City Poetry Slam. The grand prize goes to…

(Readers name)!” 

You sat unmoved, so disassociated from your reality, you hadn’t heard your name be called. It wasn’t until Terry called you by your nickname.  

“Baby girl!” You heard his voice loudly right next to you. 

Your head shot up as you looked over at him, total shock took over your expression. You looked around the room as the audience stood, clapping and smiling while looking at you. 

“Ms. (Readers Name), come and get your trophy girl!” The host announced into the mic. 

You stood so overwhelmed with emotion, you immediately reached over to hug your boyfriend. He had to remind once again to get your prize because he knew you’d hold onto him for as long as you could. You let him go and hurried to the stage, excitement written all over your face. 

You carefully took the trophy and looked down at it to take it all in. You didn’t know if you were supposed to give a speech or say simple thank you so you decided to keep it short and sweet. 

“Thank you all so much, this means the world to me.” You said, a large smile on your face. You walked to the end of the stage already noticing Terry with his hand out, helping you down the stage one step at a time. You held onto his hand once you hit the floor and walked out of the auditorium. Many ‘thank yous’ left your lips as you passed the audience, congratulating and complimenting you on your spoken word. 

“We can go wherever you wanna go baby girl, my treat.” Terry said, taking the trophy out of your hand as he noticed you struggling to hold it. As excited as you were to win your first poetry slam and come in first place at that, you had to admit that trophy that was damn near the same size as you. 

“Let’s go to Dave and Busters! I wanna play, eat, then drink and finally go home!” You smiled, remembering one of your favorite arcades was just down the street from where you were. 

“Let’s go.” Terry placed the trophy carefully in the backseat before jumping into the driver's seat and heading to D&B’s. 

The two of you were like teenagers again. There wasn’t a game you didn’t play together. From basketball, to flappy bird, to the dancing games, he made sure to make this trip to Dave and Busters worth your while. 

After an hour of playing games and taking cute pictures in the photo booth, you guys sat down and enjoyed a nice meal and some drinks. 

You were still off of the high from your win, you went a bit overboard with the drinks. What was usually a limit of two drinks maximum, you were already on your fourth margarita. You were definitely a lightweight so four drinks was really pushing it. 

“That’s the last one for the night baby, I don’t want you getting too wasted.” He grabbed the glass and brought it to his side of the table. Terry didn’t want to cut you off from drinking because you were enjoying yourself and you deserved to have as many drinks as you choose, you were a poetry queen. But as the drinks went down, so did your eyes. 

Your gaze slowly changed from playful and excited to lustful and seductive. The way your eyes refused to leave his sent him a message your lips wouldn’t quite be able to due to your condition. But there was no need to worry because he got the message loud and clear. 

“Mmhmmm, fuck this pussy daddy.” You were completely under a liquor spell that had you talking reckless to your man. Unlike you, he only had two drinks because he was the driver for the night. Also because he knew how you were when you were a bit ‘lit’. Who knew the same lips that uttered beautiful pantoums, turning emotions into art would utter such filthy demands all within the same 24 hours. 

“You feel that dick baby girl?” His body weight damn near had you sinking into the bed. Flat on your stomach, your eyes were barely open as he dug into you from behind, rolling his hips hitting every inch of your walls. 

“I feel it daddy, it’s so big!” You cried. You tried your hardest to hold your head up so you could feel his lips against your neck while he talked you through it. Even after the years y’all had been together, adjusting to his size was still a process for you. 

“Don’t run from this dick, take this shit.” You wanted to do just that but it was becoming harder and harder by the second. His arms were wrapped under yours, holding you in place, ensuring that you felt all of him as deep as he wanted you to feel it. He wanted the tip of his dick to kiss your cervix, triggering all of your creaminess to paint it, because you deserved it. 

You could feel yourself digging deeper into his rhythm, unable to hold it in any longer. “Yes yes yes!” Your eyes rolled into your head as he continued digging deeper and deeper as you released onto him. 

“That’s it baby, let daddy have it.” He said, sending more juices flowing out of you, never interrupting his rhythm. “Just like that.” He kissed you as he continued stroking in and out of you. He wasn’t letting up until your body collapsed in his arms and even then he still had enough energy to get another one out of you. 

Sitting up on his knees, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back. He yanked you closer to him causing a small yelp to leave your lips. He placed your feet onto his shoulders and pushed right back into you so easily before leaning forward to come as close to your face as possible. 

He hadn’t even started stroking yet and you were already crying out again from the feeling of his thick dick filling you up completely from this position. He stared down at you admiring your love faces, the way your eyebrows bent as he slowly pulled out of you only leaving the tip and pushing back into you until his balls pressed up against your ass. 

His strokes were slow and deep, rubbing up against your g-spot each time he entered you. You tried to look him in his eyes but they were piercing through you, he was a bit intimidating in this moment. No matter if you tried to move or move him, it would be a complete fail. He had you exactly how you wanted you and there was nothing you could do about it. 

The sounds of your wetness making a mess on his dick filled the room. You could feel your pussy growing wetter by the second. “You gone cum again for me baby girl?” His eyes were glued to you as you struggled to find the words to answer him. His long, deep strokes had your body reacting so wildly, your lips couldn’t utter any words in the moment.

“Talk to me baby.” 

“I c-can’t.” You finally answered, tossing your head left and right as he continued stroking into you, gradually speeding up the pace. He placed his hand next to your head as his body weight pushed your legs closer to your ears, allowing him to go even deeper than he was before. 

“You not gone talk to me?” He was taunting you. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no way you would be able to find the words if he was gonna keep fucking you like this. He sped up the pace a little more, digging in and out of you like he had something to prove. Like you didn’t already know what he was capable of. His strokes weren’t too fast but the way he was hitting your spot and then some over and over again caused you to take in a deep breath without letting it out. Your mouth fell open as your eyes began to cross, this pleasure was way too much to be trying to focus on words. “Breathe baby.” 

You gathered as much strength as you could as your eyes opened and landed on him as he inched closer to your face. Mouth slightly parted, his lips brushed against yours. “Breathe with me.” He placed a soft kiss on your bottom lip. He was still so patient with you even as he ruined you. “In and out, together.” 

You did just as he said. The two of you inhaled together and exhaled together, gradually falling into the same rhythm. This nigga and his breathing techniques. He’d build you up just to have you fall apart then repeat. 

You continued breathing with him, this instant unison sent a strong feeling to your gut. He was stimulating too many parts of your body all at once. Your eyes widened a bit as you felt your orgasm coming full force. “Keep breathing baby.” He kissed your lips once again, then your cheek and landed on your neck all while maintaining his stroke. “Good job baby, in and out.” His voice directly in your ear was the icing on the cake. 

You stared up at the ceiling as all of your inner focus was centered right at your center. Your breathing became louder as he did his. “Ughh!” Was all you could manage as your legs began to shake, your walls pulsated around him causing him to curse into your ear. 

“Oh my god yes!” You screamed loudly, completely unconcerned about your neighbors and anyone else surrounding the outside of your apartment. “Fuck, I’m right there baby, just keep breathing.” He pumped into you as he grunted, releasing everything he had directly into you. Even after your orgasm, he was still stroking, totally emptying himself into you. You may as well have been his personal cumbucket. You let out another loud moan, as a tear formed in the corner of your eye. 

After a few more pumps he stilled his movements. His head buried into your neck as you felt his warm breath against your skin. Both of you breathing heavily as you felt the effects of your powerful orgasms. You stared up at the ceiling, fighting to keep your eyes open as you wanted so badly to fall into a deep sleep. 

Finally coming back to himself, Terry placed kisses along your jaw and on your cheek. He stared down at you as he reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from your face. “I’m proud of you baby girl.” He said, placing one last kiss on your lips. 

“Thank you.” You barely whispered, throat dry from all of the breathing you were doing. 

“I love you.” He said, still placing kisses on your lips. 

“I love you too.” 

[macapunoz]

PAGES ; wen junhui

summary the only time your best friend’s brother, jun, talks to you is when he takes what’s not his. starring bsf's brother! jun x gn! reader genre fluff, humour, implied mutual pining, bestfriend's brother au, high school au contains invasion of privacy word count 1k

from rhin， me when i have no creative juices to write a new drabble so i steal one from my old blog. anyways do not give this any hype bc it’s so bad i might as well write a pt 2 if anyone wants😣。

what’s worse than having a normal crush is having a crush on your best friend’s brother, jun. he’s not any typical brother; he’s the younger brother who doesn’t talk to anyone besides his friends and family. the younger brother, who only has one face for every emotion. he’s the younger brother who’s the eldest among his friends.

it’s even worse when he goes to your school. fate loves to be a hater and decided that you two should see each other everywhere, whether he’s behind you in line at the cafeteria or walking the same hall after your drama class and his gym class. wherever you are, jun is there. some people would think it’s a blessing to be around their crush all the time, and it is. it’s also a curse, as instead of greeting him, you find yourself running as far away as possible from him.

the idea of your best friend finding out isn’t the reason you’re running away. in fact, you even told her you liked him, and she didn’t seem to care at all. all she did was laugh. she finds it hilarious how he’s gullible and you’re here trying to keep yourself from running away when he’s around, especially when you’re at her house. from sitting next to you on the couch for a movie night to grabbing a cup from the cabinet in the kitchen where you’re eating, you’d expect her to glare at you, but she only tries to hold her laughter in.

you don’t know why you can’t function when he’s around every time. is it because he smells like pencil shaving all the time, his glasses suit his face shape, or he wears that umber leather jacket over his uniform every day? it’s weird since you complain all the time that you miss him, but when you do see him, you’re suddenly meters away from his presence. you hate the idea of talking to him, but at the same time, you love talking about him with your friends. when your friends insult him, like his haircut or the fact that he’s part of the chess club, your mouth starts talking back as if you were a lawyer defending their client.

the one question that makes everyone you know intrigued is: how come you’ve never had at least one interaction with him?

‘i saw jun in the hallway first thing in the morning’. you write on the sticky note, passing it to your friend in the middle of your drama class. your teacher has been too busy blabbering about her life in acting school for the past hour. you look up at the clock; it’s five before the bell rings. some of your classmates are doing work, and others are on their phones. no one seems to be listening to her at all; they’re all waiting for the bell.

yeojin passes a sticky note to you. ‘what did you do?’. she stared at you as you retold her what happened with your fingers. you tried to tell her that you walked past him, but she didn’t understand your gestures. “what?” she mouths. you lean close enough so she can hear your whispers.

“i walked past him,” you whisper lowly so the teacher wouldn’t notice but loud enough for yeojin to hear. she covers her mouth, restraining herself from bursting into laughter. as the bell rings, your teacher mentions a project due in a few days while you get ready to leave.

the performing arts department is in a long, separate hallway away from regular classes. in that hallway is also the gym, where jun finishes his class. the hallway is tiring for you and yeojin, but all you want to do is get to your next class without having to see jun. yeojin leaves you for her class, which is the one near the exit of the hall. you’re here, walking alone to the end of the hall. sometimes it takes you two minutes to get to your class or more, depending on the number of people. as you go through multiple people squished like sardines in a can and make your way to the end of the hall, you halt, hearing your name and an unfamiliar voice.

“oh, y/n, you dropped this,” jun says as you look behind. he picks up a notebook from the floor and hands it to you. you’re frozen and silent, and he simply smiles at you and leaves. you run to your next class and sit down in your seat as you contemplate. many things are happening at once—things that you found impossible.

he says your name and gives you your journal, the one place where you talk about him, then proceeds to smile at you. it sounds impossible, but it did indeed happen. but what’s really important is that he spoke to you.

you haven’t seen jun since that interaction. you don’t see him in the hallways at school or in the living room at their house. whenever eunha calls him down for dinner, he’ll just stay silent or respond that he’s busy. when he did come out of his room, it was only to return your journal. your best friend accidentally gave him your journal when he asked her to get his notebook.

it was a simple mistake; he didn’t mean to look inside. the outside looked like his, but the inside was totally different. when he opened a random page, he noticed how his notes were colourful, his handwriting was curvier than it should be, and the words were the total opposite of physics. he put his glasses on and immediately closed the book as he read the first sentence.

‘i miss jun’. he quickly pushes the book off his table and backs away from it. he’s shocked in many ways. those words are playing in his head on repeat. all he can imagine is your voice saying those words. he wants to know what else you say about him, but it’s wrong; it’s your privacy. he approaches the book but is wary of picking it up. his hands are trembling the more he moves closer, until the pads of his fingers touch the leather cover.

he leaves his room with the journal in his hand. his eyes meet with yours as he enters the living room, places your journal down on the coffee table, and grabs his. you quickly grabbed your journal and sat on it as he asked you a question before he walked out.

“are you busy this friday?”

svt masterlist .ᐟ

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

fall asleep, close my eyes, and disappear pt. 1

fandom: X-Men

pairing: Charles Xavier x Reader

summary: Charles Xavier is familiar with the weight of his students' past traumas, including yours. At least that's what he thinks, until a mission-related injury prompts him to delve into your mind, uncovering a deep-seated trauma you've repressed. Fearing he's caused more harm, Charles works with you to reveal this forgotten memory and heal from your past experiences.

tags/warnings: injury, rape aftermath/recovery (implied), anxiety, panic attacks, emotional hurt/comfort, charles xavier trying his very best not to invade someone else's privacy

word count: 2089

Charles Xavier is well-acquainted with the traumatic past lives of his students. It is easy to see how many of them had come from terrible circumstances, how many had been ridiculed or hurt or abandoned. He has seen his share of darkness as well, and he wishes to protect his students from any more of it.

Amidst all the sadness and despair that clouds the minds of the youngsters, there is you. Old enough to be a teacher, but new enough to your powers to still be a student. You are close with Charles due to your age, but keep him an arm’s length away. You, too, had been hurt in the past. You don’t want to trust your heart to anyone… yet.

Being surrounded by all the young students, you know you have to put on a brave face. You smile in the hallways and laugh and tell jokes. And things are fine – you enjoy your pseudo-parental role at the school.

But something is missing. A heaviness weighs on your mind, something dangerous that you subconsciously suppress. All you know is that sometimes you wake in the middle of the night gasping, and it feels like you’ve lost something.

Charles knows of course – Charles always knows – but figures you’ll come to him when you feel comfortable. He learned his lesson about prying into people’s minds long, long ago. And he doesn’t want to push you away the way he’d pushed away others (Erik, Raven, Jean – no, he shouldn’t think of these things). He cares for you far too much to lose you.

That being said, as time passes, Charles can't help but grow more and more concerned. He hears you lying awake at night, or even worse, in the throes of a nightmare. Yet in the morning, it seems all is well. You carry on as always, no worse for wear. It worries Charles. The temptation to just read your mind and see what plagues you is all too strong. But he respects your privacy.

But he can’t stay out of your mind forever, no matter how much he wants to.

The X-Men had been sent off to assist a crew of miners who had been trapped in a cave. A small mishap led to a few injuries amongst the team, nothing serious but certainly enough to warrant a visit to Hank after. You received the worst of it – your powers of telekinesis meant you were in the thick of it, pulling rocks off the imprisoned crew – when a section of the wall crumbled away on top of you. You managed to block most of the debris, but a well-timed drop of a boulder managed to clip you on the head, knocking you unconscious for a brief interlude. You woke shortly thereafter, already on the ship and headed home, but the team insisted you get checked out despite your protests.

When you arrive back at the school, Hank and Charles wait with matching anxious expressions. You stumble along with the help of Kurt, trying to look like you aren’t leaning too heavily on him.

Charles and Hank rush to you. Hank comes up on your left to support that side, while Charles sweeps his eyes over you protectively. You wave them off with a bloodied hand. “I’m fine, guys, seriously.” You aren’t – your head is pounding – but students are standing at the doors to the school, and you know you have to put on a brave face for their sake.

Hank side-eyes you. “You’re bleeding.”

“Hank, take her to the lab. I’ll be down shortly,” Charles says, barely keeping the worry out of his voice. You flash him what you hope is a reassuring smile. It doesn’t seem to change his expression.

Down in the lab, Hank runs a myriad of tests, all while you complain and insist that you are fine. Eventually, he lets out a sigh. “Well, everything looks okay.” You move to hop off the exam table when he holds out a hand to stop you. “But I want Charles to take a look to make sure you didn’t goof up your brain. I can’t see everything on a CT scan.”

You groan and settle back in. Charles, always with a talent for dramatic timing, enters at that precise moment. “How are you feeling?” he says as he rolls up to the table.

“Like I said before, I’m fine. Just a little bump, is all.”

Charles stares at you, as if trying to read your mind without actually doing it. His eyebrows furrow before he turns to his colleague. “Hank?”

Hank crosses his arms. “Her scans all seem fine. A bit of rest should take care of the residual ache. But I’d like you to see for yourself. Just in case.”

Charles nods and looks at you again. “Are you alright with that?”

You shrug. “Go for it, professor.”

Charles wheels himself a little closer. “Lay back,” he murmurs, positioning himself at the head of the exam table.

You do as he asks, and Charles places two warm fingers on your temple. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel him enter your mind.

Charles weaves through the lanes of your conscious, seeking out any damage. He takes in your recent memories, watches the rock wall crumble on top of you. He digs deeper, searching further into your past. He watches as you come to the school, watches you trudge through the rainy streets as a homeless beggar, watches your family leave you. Charles breezes past those memories as quick as he can – no sense in dwelling on the things that cannot be changed. He races down neural pathways and connections, spotting nothing of note.

That is, until he slams into a mental wall, one so thick and aversive that even he might have a hard time getting through it. He is so deep into your mind that he isn’t sure you even know this exists. Concern courses through him as he attempts to break through the wall. But it won’t give, at least not without causing you distress. Already he can hear you – outside your mind, in the real world – whimpering in anguish.

Charles pulls away, mentally and physically, drawing his hands from your temples. Your eyes shoot open, and for a moment there’s a flash of fear in them. But it’s gone in an instant. Charles realizes how starved for air he seems to be and takes in a deep breath.

You sit up quickly. “All good?” you ask.

Charles nods, unable to speak, and you hop off the table. Before he or Hank can get another word in, you are out the door and on your way.

“Charles?” Hank looks at his friend in confusion. “What is it? What did you see?”

The professor stares blankly at the table. “Her mind… There’s something… I’m not sure.”

“Is it from the accident?”

Charles shakes his head. “No, this was… deeper. Further back. Something she’s repressed. I doubt she even knows it’s there.”

…

Upstairs, your fellow teammates greet you with sighs of relief and gratitude for making the mission a success. Someone proposes the idea of drinks, and all of a sudden people are putting coats on and discussing plans for the night.

“Um, I think I’m going to pass on this one,” you announce, wringing your hands together nervously. You’re afraid to miss out on the festivities, but your head is aching and you know you should probably rest.

Your team wishes you well and heads out, and soon you are left in the kitchen alone. You trudge up the stairs to your room, nearly ready to collapse from exhaustion. It seems fate had other plans for you though, for as soon as your back hits the mattress, there’s a knock on your door.

You groan quietly and twist your hand in the direction of the door. It opens with a soft click and soon you hear the telltale sound of Charles’s wheels on the floor.

You squint at him out of one eye as he makes his way to the side of your bed. “Yes?” you question when he doesn't say anything. “Did you need something?”

“No, no,” Charles reassures, his voice soft. “I just wanted to make sure you truly were alright.”

“Well, my head hurts something awful but I think I just need to rest,” you reply honestly.

Charles nods and you turn on your side to face him, pulling a pillow under your cheek. Again, the professor says nothing more, just gazes at you with those striking blue eyes of his. You watch him for a moment, before you feel your eyes begin to drift closed.

Just as you’re about to fall asleep, you hear him murmur. “What?” you grumble, slightly annoyed that your peace was disturbed.

Charles clears his throat and speaks up. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“You know you can ask me anything,” you yawn. Sleep pulls your eyelids closed again.

“Would it be alright if I looked into your mind while you were sleeping?”

You snort out a laugh. “I love when people ask before they violate my privacy.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You snap your eyes open, only to see him starting to wheel away. “No, Charles, it’s fine. I was joking.”

“Right.” He comes closer to the bed again.

“Did you see something wrong earlier?” Panic creeps into your voice at the thought. “Is there something wrong with my brain?”

“No, darling, of course not,” Charles rushes. “You’re… perfect. I just want to make sure. Sometimes things can be revealed in sleep that are not present while we are awake.”

That seems to make sense to you, so you settle further into your pillow, letting your eyes fall closed again. “Well, just… have fun digging around, I guess,” you mutter. “Don’t break anything.”

Before long, you’re out like a light.

Charles wastes no time in laying his fingers on your temples again. This time, he knows where he’s headed and he makes his way along the pathways quickly. He can feel a heaviness begin to weigh on him as he comes closer to the mental block. Perhaps this is what causes your nightmares, your occasional zoning out, your sad disposition that hid behind a cheerful façade.

Charles prepares himself as he approaches the wall, trying to get a sense for its depth and meaning. He can tell that this blockade was formed long ago. Perhaps not in your childhood – it isn’t that far back – but maybe as a teenager. And it’s so strong, it rivals his own mental walls.

Carefully, Charles begins to pick away at the wall. He pushes and pulls at the tenuous strings that make up the outer barrier, then chisels away at more cemented bits further in. The further he goes, the heavier the darkness seems to become. His own mind is beginning to feel fatigued, but he can sense he’s close. Whispers of this forgotten memory slip through the cracks that form, not enough to make out but he knows they’re there.

Finally, finally, he breaks through. And instantly, he wishes he hadn’t.

No.

Stop.

Please!

Charles forces himself out of your mind, his breaths coming in short gasps. The room has darkened with the approaching night, and your still-sleeping form is illuminated by moonlight. Charles runs a shaking hand over his eyes. What have I done?

As he looks on, your body begins to shake and tremble. You let out heart-wrenching cries as a nightmare overtakes you. Those same cries that he hears every night, those same cries he just heard in your subconscious. “Don’t break anything,” you had said. Has he broken you?

The wall. He has to put the wall back in place. This memory, this horror… He has to protect you. With trembling fingers, Charles re-enters your mind.

Already he can see the memory seeping out, its darkness spilling into the recesses of your mind. Charles feels his heart sink as he realizes the damage he’s caused. It’s like Jean all over again.

Except this time, he is determined not to lose you.

Brick by brick, string by fragile string, Charles rebuilds the barricade around the memory. He seals in as much of it as he can.

Not forever, no. Not like Jean.

He will help you reveal it yourself. And then he will help you heal.

But to let it all out at once… that would destroy you.

>>>

part 2

[janeyseymour]

At Arm's Length pt 2

A requested sequel, although this could *probably* be read on its own.

Part 1

WC: ~3k

Melissa Schemmenti was fond of exactly five people at her place of work- six if you counted the strange dynamic she had with the principal of the school. She cared about her beloved work wife Barbara, her three work children, and... and somehow you had wormed your way into her little group, all over a spilled cup of coffee (or two, but who’s counting?). But it wasn’t in the way that she cared for the kindergarten teacher, and it wasn’t in the way that you felt she had a protective maternal feeling for you. It was different. Not bad, but certainly different from the rest. 

Friday night was a nice night with the redheaded teacher. She had wined and dined you, and if you were being honest, it was the best meal of your life. Growing up in center city Philadelphia, you didn’t much have the luxury of decadent food- and you sure as hell know you were lucky to have feasted on her cooking for even just one night. It definitely beat the meals you grew up eating, and there was no contest to be had in the sorry excuses for meals you could ‘cook’ for yourself with the little ingredients you had laying around your half decorated apartment. You’re not sure you would ever be able to afford to cook the way she does. You would need... years of cooking lessons.

You leave her place on a high- full from the delicious food, a little warm from the bottle of wine you had shared, and on cloud nine at the knowledge that the Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you in the slightest.

“So, you think I still hate ya?” the second grade teacher playfully pokes at you as you reach for the door.

“I-” you turn red.

“I don’t,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Now get home safe, and let me know when you get home, yeah?”

You nod with a smile and yet another thank you as you quietly raise the tupperware container filled with leftovers. You leave a moment later, not realizing that she watches you the entire way to your car, making sure you get there safely. She has a bat in hand, ready to pulverize anybody who thinks they can mess with you or try to rob you of her delicious cooking.

When you relay to her that you made it home, she texts back, You’re in your apartment?

I’m in my complex, you reply, not quite ready to go into your apartment that doesn’t quite feel like a home.

Not good enough. Let me know when you’re in- door locked and everything.

When you do, she types back, Good. Don’t miss me too much.

And god, you don’t even know what to make of that text. 

Monday morning comes just a bit too early for you. You wake up just a little too late to brew coffee at home, and you sigh. You were hoping to be at least somewhat caffeinated for the beginning of the week. Grabbing your ‘bland ass salad’ and the now empty and clean tupperware container gifted to you by a certain coworker, you get in your car and head to school.

For the first time upon entering the school, you don’t feel the need to peek into the break room before entering. You aren’t afraid to see that redheaded second grade teacher you used to nearly cower at. You just walk in, a smile on your face as you see the usual crew gathering around the television to watch the news. Everybody but Melissa turns to give you a silent wave before turning back around to the screen. You quietly place your lunch in the fridge, noting you won’t have to move anybody else’s food before making your way over to the coffee machine silently.

“Didn’t make any coffee this morning? Afraid you’d spill it all over ya again?” The redhead asks, eyes still glued to the screen. There’s a hint of mischief in her voice. You turn, not realizing that she even knew you were in the room. You shake your head silently, not wanting to interrupt the broadcast. You remembered what happened the last time you did that. You do not want a repeat of that event. “There’s some in the mug. I made it not five minutes ago. It’s yours if you want it.”

“Thanks,” you say shyly as you let the steam rise in your face. It just happens to be a coincidence that you both like your coffee the same way- no need to fix it at all. You go to leave the room, only to hear that low voice again.

“Come watch the news with us, smalls.” This was the second time the woman had spoken over Jim Gardner to talk to you. 

Not wanting to be back on Melissa’s bad side, you quietly make your way over and take a place next to her and Barb. Slyly, you hand her tupperware back to her. She takes it with a smile and a small nudge to your ribs. Barb glances over, her eyebrow raising just a fraction of an inch, before directing her attention back to the news anchor they all loved. 

When the news is over, Janine turns to you with a grin. “So... how was your weekend? Gregory and I missed you at Bone- the restaurant on Friday.”

“It was nice,” you say quietly. “Lowkey. I needed a quiet weekend after last week.” You unconsciously shift a bit closer to Melissa.

If Barbara notices the way your cheeks tint red or your subtle shift, she doesn’t mention it. She just looks at you with a smile. “I’m glad you had a nice weekend, Y/N. Are you ready for this week?”

“Now that I have some coffee,” you chuckle. “Alright, I have to reply to a few emails I got over the weekend, but I’ll see you all arou-”

“You better have lunch with us,” Melissa cuts you off. All eyes turn to her. “I mean... c’mon, hon. You’re one of us now.”

“I- I am?” you look around the group. Janine and Jacob are all grins and giving you thumbs up. Gregory is as unreadable as ever. Barbara has a knowing look on her face. And Melissa is looking at you like you’re an idiot. 

“You think I’d give my Eagles shirt to just anyone? Or let anyone touch my coffee?” she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. You’re with us now. Don’t be dumb.”

You just barely let yourself smile, afraid of overreacting with the grin you want to let wash over your face. “Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll see you at lunch.”

As you leave, you hear Janine ask, “Hey, Melissa, where’d that tupperware come from?”

“Who’s askin’?” You hear her gravelly voice ask, and you can practically hear her staring down the shorter teacher. “Why you gotta know?”

You smile into the mug as you continue on down the hall. 

Come lunch time, you’re almost excited to join the group again- even if it means Melissa will make fun of your lunch again. But then Zion didn’t have lunch again- just an empty lunch box-, and you have to go through the charade of making sure the lunch ladies made extra so he could have lunch without taking someone else’s. And by the time all of that is over, you only have twelve minutes left to try to enjoy your lunch before having to head outside for your dreaded recess duty. 

You hear their conversation before they know you’re outside the door.

“Oh come on, Melissa,” Jacob laughs nervously. “You and I both know that your attitude towards her didn’t just flip overnight.”

“Well, we did have the weekend,” she bites back, and you can practically see the smirk on her face. 

“You know what I mean!” he argues. “You hated her on Thursday, and now you’re inviting her to sit with you and Barb at lunch? You even have her salad ready for her?”

You silently pray the kindergarten teacher won’t let slip that you had gone over to Melissa’s for dinner on Friday. She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

“Yeah, and if she doesn’t come down and eat it before lunch is over, I’m gonna go down to her room and shove it down her-”

You push the door open gently.

“There y’are,” the redhead says as she kicks out the seat next to her. “Where ya been?”

You sigh softly as you sit down next to her. “Making sure all my kids had a lunch to eat... Zion’s mom forgot to pack his lunch- again.” 

Barbara gives a sad shake of the head. “She’s been doing that since I had him in Kindergarten. Next time, tell the lunch ladies to put it on my account.”

“N-no, I just paid for it,” you say quietly as you glance at your salad on the table. You don’t make any moves to eat it. “I have been. He needs to eat.”

“And so do you,” Melissa says pointedly as she juts her chin out towards your container.

“I’m not that hungry, and I won’t have time to finish it,” you mumble. You won’t admit that you’re craving her pasta, and you know your salad just won’t do the trick. “I have recess duty in-” you glance at your watch. “Seven minutes.”

You see the gears turning in the second grade teacher’s head. “Gimme a minute.” She stands from her place and heads out the door. You all hear the way her boots hit the tile as she makes her way down the hall.

You fiddle with your thumbs, just trying to pass the last few minutes of your lunch, when you feel like you’re being stared at. You look up. You are being stared at. 

“What?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious of your appearance. You glance at Barb who has a knowing smile but again chooses to stay silent.

“You know Melissa is about to get you out of recess duty, right?” Janine asks.

Your brows knit in confusion, but before you can say anything, the woman in question struts in proudly.

“I got someone to cover your duty. Now eat,” she says pointedly as she heads for the coffee machine.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say shyly. “But thank you.”

“You’ve never done that for me before,” Jacob pouts, clearly a little jealous of this strange soft spot Melissa has developed for you.

“Me either,” Janine pipes up. “Even after-”

“Or me,” Gregory speaks from next to Janine.

“Well, youse usually eat your lunch. We can’t have newbie going down like Janine did that day we had the power go out,” Melissa laughs it off. She looks in your direction again. “Dammit, Y/N. Eat your lunch, or I’ll have to make a ziti for naught.”

Sheepishly, you open your lunch and begin to eat slowly. “Thanks,” you say quietly as you cover your full mouth with your hand.

“Eh, don’t mention it.” She smiles proudly as she fixes two cups of coffee. She sets one down in front of you.

When you look at her curiously, she rolls her eyes. “Y’look like you need it. ‘N apparently, I know how you like it.” She winks at you jokingly.

You nearly choke on your lunch at her dirty innuendo.

“Finish up,” she sighs as she pushes her chair back into place. “I gotta go grab my little eagles and pray to God Aiden didn’t try to beat up on Omari again. I don't think I can handle another call home with that one.” 

Slowly, the rest of the crew trickles out of the lunch room to get back to their students, and you’re left in peace to finish your lunch and coffee. You can't help the dorky grin that washes over your face as you head down the hall to pick up your kids and can hear her praising her students’ reading stamina.

The rest of the day is better- it isn’t a total drag. The rest of the week pretty much follows the same routine- Melissa makes you a cup of coffee in the morning even though you walk in with one- it gets thrown out so you can enjoy hers, you make sure your students are all being adequately fed, and you head down for your lunch with the group you’ve suddenly found yourself a part of.

On Thursday, you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness knowing Melissa will be outside at recess and not sitting next to you to make fun of your lunch and the fact that your hair is still perfectly in place.

“Hey,” you greet the group, sans Melissa, as you head for the fridge for your lunch.

“It’s already out,” Barb chuckles and points to your newly designated spot. Glancing over, you see that your salad, a fork, and a freshly made cup of steaming hot coffee are waiting for you.

“Oh,” you blush as you make your way over. “Thanks.”

“Wasn’t me, dear,” the kindergarten teacher says knowingly. She looks around to make sure everyone else is in their own conversation before she’s leaning in and whispering, “It was that redhead that you suddenly have wrapped around your finger.”

Your blush only gets deeper, and you attempt to hide it behind a quick bite of food.

“She said somethin’ about how you’ll ‘make it up to her later’?” Barb questions quietly. “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”

Your eyes go wide, and you shake your head. “I told her this morning I would help her with her bulletin board after school today, that’s all.”

She gives a low, “Mhmm,” before going back to her own lunch. 

“I’m serious!” You laugh nervously. “I told her I would help her revamp her bulletin board!”

“Alright, sweetheart,” the veteran educator laughs. “I believe you.”

Lunch almost drags by without that loud laugh you love to hear when you accidentally mumble something under your breath and Melissa hears it. 

Come the end of the day, you walk down the hall to go assist Melissa with her decorating. She’s standing there, as if she’s already been waiting for an hour.

“C’mon, kid,” she laughs as you saunter down. “I’m not gettin’ any younger over here.”

You pick up the pace with a chuckle and look over her materials. It definitely has potential, and you can’t deny the projects she’s choosing to showcase from her class are adorable.

She lets you take almost full control over her board, noting how your tongue just barely pokes out of the side of your mouth as you mount the background.

“What?” You nearly let a giggle slip. “I don’t want your background to have any wrinkles!”

“And I appreciate it, hon,” she laughs as she takes you in. “Where’d y’learn to decorate like this?”

You shrug. “I’ve always liked doin’ it, and seeing the kids’ smiles when they see their work on a nice board- it feels good.”

When it’s finished, you take a step back with a grin. Your neat hair is now tied up in one of the messiest buns she’s seen, and your shirt actually has wrinkles in it from the odd positions you had put your body in to ensure that her board was perfect. But in that moment, Melissa realizes, she’s smitten for you. She has no idea why she ever thought she could hate you- she had her eyes on you from the very beginning. 

“I think that looks good enough,” you say humbly, but the dopey smile on your face tells her how proud you are of this.

“It looks perfect, hon,” she lays a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze.

Only then do you turn a deep shade of red.

“You blush a lot,” she notes as she takes the stapler out of your hand and sets it down. She doesn’t make any further moves away from you. You feel your ears starting to burn.

Nervously, you tuck a loose hair behind your ear. She’s close enough that you can really take in those sparkling green eyes of hers, and she’s yet to take her hand off your arm. You hope she can’t feel your heart practically beating out of your chest.

“Don’t worry,” she laughs quietly. “It’s cute.”

You don't quite know how to respond, but you can tell that she’s starting to lean in. Just a little more, and she would be-

“The hell are you two still doin’ here?” Mr. Johnson yells from the other side of the hallway, dragging the mop bucket behind him. Thankfully, you think, he’s too far away to realize the compromising position the two of you are in. “Get outta here so I can lock up!” 

Begrudgingly, you pull away from her close proximity to call out to him, “Sorry, Mr. J! We were just workin’ on the bulletin board outside of Melissa’s room! We’ll be out in a few minutes!”

He huffs loudly enough for you to hear it, and you turn back to the redhead. “I guess that’s our cue to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Or... you could come over for dinner again?”

“You already made me dinner in exchange for the-”

“Not as a transaction, ya goof. As a-” she bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “As a date.”

“R-really?” You ask shyly.

“Yeah, hon. As a date.”

“I- I’d like that.” You grin. “I’ve been craving your pasta since last Sunday when I ran out.”

“Then that’s what I’ll make. Hell, I might even let you attempt to make it with me,” she teases you.

“I’ll grab the wine and be over,” you grin.

As you leave, you feel Melissa’s hand on your back to guide you out. Neither of you have a clue that Mr. Johnson is watching with a small smile on his face. He knew exactly what was going down. Those halls told many stories, and somehow, Mr. Johnson was always a part of those stories- even if no one knew it. 

Next

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 123 (Struggling Through 💕Love Day💕)

Conrad left Rafa at the abandoned shipwreck and made his way to the docks before he called Heather. "Thank the Watcher, you're okay!" she cried when the picture connected. "The precinct said the wifi in Sulani's terrible and to wait until morning, but I couldn't sleep last night."

"I slept a lot longer than I planned," he lamented.

"What do you mean? What happened?"

He smiled. "I ran into some trouble but I'm fine. I'll tell you all about it when I get home but everything's okay. Well, not everything...I found George and his wife in their villa."

"Why did they go silent?"

"The exact reason you'd think. (Especially if you're @changingplumbob and @matchalovertrait!) Now I've got another murder to solve."

Heather sighed. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"It's fine. I'm just at the docks waiting for the jetty to take me to the airport. I sent some evidence home with the bodies and I'll have to meet them on the other side."

"What happens to everything in town that George had his hands in now that he's gone?"

Conrad shrugged. "I guess we're about to find out."

"I'm glad you're okay. You're really all I want for Love Day, you know. Oh! Ash made tissue paper flowers for someone at school. He says he's not sure who he'll give them to, but I think he might have made them for Scotti Holiday. Maybe his teacher."

Conrad laughed. "Is it terrible to say I hope he gives them to his teacher?"

"Mmhmm. I like Summer and Travis, but she's..." Scotti Holiday was a nine-year-old mean girl, but Heather didn't want to speak ill of a kid and changed the subject. "The kids both made cards for you."

"I'm trying to get home before Love Day's over. I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

Heather hung up and found Lavender in the living room playing with Gord and a purple toy. "Drago rawrrrrr!" she cried, letting the winged creature dance on the end of Gord's nose.

The beautiful Bernese barked and played along, happily wagging his tail. Heather smiled. "Are you ready to head to daycare, Lavender?"

"I like home!" she cried, but she never protested too long and rarely threw a tantrum.

Heather helped her toddler into her outerwear as she locked up the house, and three-year-old Lavender glanced at her dog. "Watch house, Go-dee! See lay-doe."

The romantic spirit of Love Day filled the air at the clinic, as unflirty Heather witnessed her vet techs, Kaori and Rico, struggle to hide their new affections. Even while he mopped up after sick pets.

The radio was playing nothing but love songs, and Heather retreated to the bathroom for a moment of peace. Conrad was fine, she reminded herself. He might even make it home before the end of Love Day. But now that George Brindleton was dead, the town he held together might be about to split apart at the seams. She was worried for it.

The restroom's garish wallpaper didn't calm her nerves, and as she grabbed a glass of water she dreamed of the swatches her architect in Evergreen Harbour had sent over through the winter. Spring was coming soon, and then she'd have a clinic remodel to worry about, too.

While Heather stressed her way through Love Day, Ash left school on Deadgrass Isle. He was full of chocolates handed out by his teacher and feeling energetic, jumping down the steps two at a time. He'd held on to his tissue paper flowers all day, unsure who to give them to until the end of school bell.

Heading toward the docks, he noticed an old man sitting alone on a bench overlooking the wild waves of the sea. Ash had seen him before, but he wasn't supposed to talk to strangers.

They made eye contact, and the old man looked surprised when Ash threw up his hand in a wave. He seemed like a nice enough man to talk to, and Deadgrass Isle was crowded with people at this time of day.

His friends, Arron Kalani and Scotti Holiday, headed toward the ferry to the mainland. "Ash, are you coming?"

"I'll take the next boat, I'm okay!" he said. "That old man looks lonely over there."

Scotti looked behind him in confusion. "What old man? You're kinda strange sometimes, Ash Landgraab."

Undeterred, Ash walked the path to say hello, dragging a heavy backpack full of books for extra credit behind him. Maybe the old man was the right person to give his paper flowers.

"Hello, sir. Are you alone out here?" Ash set down his bag, which immediately started to pick up big crystals of snow from the isle's notoriously heavy snowfall.

Ben looked at the child, startled and uncomfortable. He'd never been good around children, and his years as a ghost on an island populated with a school hadn't changed anything.

"Y-you can see me?" ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

WCIF: Main image created with Canva's free Vintage Blank Notes Instagram Story template. Something a little bit different to mark the holiday but also their distance apart. It also pays tribute to Ash's paper flowers which I wasn't sure how to recreate in game (they're from a pop up which dictated this scene and the next episode!)

When Valentine's Day rolls around, or before then, I'll make it up to Conther for having to deal with murder investigations for my plot instead of having a nice lil' Love Day together. Maybe we'll even get another event I can play with!

[whoops-all-jennas]

Past Lives pt. 7

Wednesday x witch!reader

"I've got this strangest feeling."

"This isn't our first time around."

Summary: You and Wednesday investigate Xavier before attending the Rave'n

I wake up to the sound of papers rustling and Wednesday thinking out loud to herself. The morning sun beaming through the windows making me never want to open my eyes.

I dramatically sit up, my white hair going every which way. I feel I have more energy than usual, maybe I needed that release of energy.

My feet find their way into the slippers by my bed, I'm wearing pajama shorts and an oversized band tee. The shirt has clearly seen better days as the graphic is faded.

I walk to the center of the room to find Wednesday in front of a bulletin board, crossing her arms in thought. The bulletin board is covered in pictures of wounds and bodies. I assume these are all the victims of the murders, Wednesday did say she snuck out last night to the morgue.

I turn around to find Enid sleeping still, so I keep in mind of my volume. "Good morning Wends, did you sleep or?"

Wednesday turns around to meet me, her eyes going to my white messy hair. "I can see you did." She responded in a whisper, unsure if it's because Enid is sleeping is because she's just naturally mimicking my volume.

Her eyes linger on my hair a moment longer before turning back around.

"Are you the one who set the statue on fire?" I ask in a whisper.

Wednesday moves a picture before pushing a thumbtack through it. "I thought you did. When I looked at you it was as if you were concentrating on the fire."

I at least know it wasn't Wednesday. "I think I did?"

Wednesday turns around again. "You think?"

"I kinda zoned out, but it felt like all the emotions of yesterday just kinda like, alleviated in that moment."

I find Wednesday's new soft gaze meeting mine. Ever since that vision yesterday she's been looking at me differently. A good different.

"Why did you play a song while the fire was going on?"

Wednesday stares off to the side before meeting my gaze again. "I wasn't sure what was happening and if you were involved or not. Besides, I can handle people being suspicious of me."

Wednesday turned back around, bringing her attention back to the bulletin board.

Was she trying to be a distraction for me?

"I'm gonna get ready, we can talk about whatever you uncovered from the morgue when I'm done." She stopped moving while I was talking before going back to what she was doing.

That's about as much of an acknowledgement I'm going to get from Wednesday with a statement like that. I head back to my section of the room to get ready.

"While most plants reward their pollinators with sweet nectar, many carnivorous varieties turn to sexual trickery or deception." Ms. Thornhill is holding up a dangerous looking plant casually while addressing the class.

I glance at Wednesday, noticing Xavier staring at me before we both look away from each other.

Ms. Thornhill keeps teaching the class, but none of it retains in my memory over Xavier and I's occasionally glances at each other from across the sunlit room.

"Now, once the plant is pollinated, what do the male insects get in exchange?" Ms. Thornhill looks to me, about to call on me to answer after noticing my lack of attention.

"Nada. Just like all the guys at the Rave'n." Bianca answers before Ms. Thornhill embarrasses me. Some light chuckles fill the classroom.

"Okay, okay. I know you're all excited about Saturday, which is why I haven't assigned any homework." Ms. Thornhill states, causing a majority of the class to cheer quietly.

"But I do still need volunteers for the decorating committee. Anyone interested, come and see me up here." Some students stand to approach the teacher's desk, while Wednesday and I stay in place.

"What? you don't want to volunteer?" I say jokingly.

"I hope that isn't your best attempt at a joke." Wednesday glares at me for a moment, causing me to look away to see Xavier's glance on me.

"I feel bad, about what I said yesterday to Xavier." I say with a worried look on my face. "Maybe I overreacted."

Wednesday turns to see Xavier bending over to put something in his bag that's on the floor, revealing the fresh wounds on his neck.

"Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone." Wednesday states, turning back to me. "We can follow him until I notice something that can potentially give us a lead."

"Do you suspect Xavier?" I ask in a worried whisper.

"Only by proximity, nothing certain. Yet." Wednesday turns to look at Xavier again. "But, a suspect is still a suspect."

Wednesday and I find ourselves near a shed by the school. Xavier leaves the shed shortly after we arrive. We're hiding behind a bush so he can't see us.

"Cast the spell." Wednesday demands. I take out my wand, casting the disillusionment charm on her so she can sneak into the shed with ease.

"We'll meet back here afterwards so I can remove the charm." I don't hear a response, but I assume she nodded.

I stand, doing a light run to catch up to him. "Xavier!"

He turns around to meet me. "Hey y/n, what's up." He's clearly acting like nothing is wrong.

"I just wanted to apologize about how I acted yesterday, I shouldn't have blown up on you like that."

He avoids my gaze for a moment. "I should apologize too, I shouldn't have been so inconsiderate."

"No, no. You don't need to apologize, I should've controlled my emotions better." I say quickly after he's done speaking.

"Can you just let me have this?" He says with a smile.

I smile back. "So we're cool?"

"Yeah." He puts out his fist, waiting for our knuckles to meet.

I lightly tap my knuckles against his. "We should hangout soon. Maybe play Mario Maker levels made by sadistic assholes." I say jokingly.

He responds with a light chuckle, tearing his eyes away from me to look at the ground.

The creek of the shed door opening draws both of our attention away from the conversation.

"Is there someone in there?" He says, mostly to the wind.

We both approach the shed, opening the door more letting the daylight fill the room.

"Must be something wrong with the door." I say out loud before closing it.

I turn to meet Xavier. "I was being serious about doing something soon, I miss spending time with you."

"Maybe we can hangout at the dance on Saturday, purely platonically I mean of course." His face goes slightly red.

"I wasn't going to go, but if you want to hangout there I can." I state uncertainly before pointing behind me with my thumb. "I'm gonna leave, Wednesday is probably waiting for me so she can drag me to a crime scene or something."

"Alright, see you at the dance then." Xavier waves before walking off.

I find my way back behind the bush, accidentally bumping into Wednesday. "Shit, sorry."

I pull out my wand and holding my hand out expectingly. She finds her hand in mine. I tap the wand onto her hand as she becomes visible again.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes, but let's get back to our dorm first." She states, quickly turning around before she starts walking.

The dorm is filled with sunlight from the sunroof, I find myself sitting in Wednesday's reading chair next to her bulletin board with her standing over me.

I hold Xavier's drawing in my hand with Wednesday's expecting glance over me. "What do you think?"

"I think if anything this makes him more innocent." I state flatly. "He's a psychic like his father, but he told me about how he gets visions in dreams usually in the form of nightmares."

I look up to Wednesday from the drawing. "I also doubt the monster knows this much physical detail about himself."

Wednesday looks at me a bit disappointed by my conclusion.

"But, if this is the case. He could be extremely helpful to our case."

Wednesday's look turns from disappointment to curiosity. "How so."

"He's getting visions about the monster we're hunting. He could likely give us some leads."

Our conversation is cut short as Enid bursts into the room, skipping across the room towards us.

"Good, you both are here." She stops in front of us with a smile. "Are you two going to the Rave'n? I'm about to go out with some friends to find clothes, if you guys are interested you can tag along."

I stand up. "Yeah I'll come with."

Wednesday gives me a confused look. "You're going to the dance?"

"Yeah, I told Xavier that we could spend time together at the dance. Purely platonically of course." I pause for a moment before I continue. "You should come to the dance to, it could be fun."

"Ooo, inviting Wednesday to the dance?" Enid draws out of the o's accusingly.

My face flushes red in embarrassment. "I didn't mean it like that!" I say somehow in the least convincing way possible.

Enid gives me a smug look before glancing past me. Wednesday in now in her section of the room grabbing a few things. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting tired of waiting! You two just need to-"

I find myself lunging towards Enid, covering her mouth with my hand to force her to stop talking.

"Enid, please stop!" I drag out the e in the word please.

She lightly kicks behind my knee playfully, causing me to fall on top of her.

"Enid!" I shout before scrambling to my feet. Enid has the dumbest smile on her face when I look over her. She's still on the floor.

"Are we leaving or not." Wednesday's monotone voice reaches my ears, causing me to turn around to see her ready to go out.

"Wait, you're actually coming!?" I take a step closer, excitement painting my face and lacing my voice.

"If you two stop bickering." She states flatly

I turn to see Enid's smug face as she's back on her feet now.

I walk past Enid while I head to the door. "Not a word about this."

She nods with the same expression before leaving the room with us.

"What kind of dystopian hell scape is this?" I state with a look of disgust.

Y/n, Enid, and I are standing in front of Hawte Kewture, the clothing store is decorated with blue and pink pastels. So, quite literally, my worst nightmare.

Enid turns to you with excitement. "Our first roomie shopping spree with Wednesday! The dance committee's suggesting all white to match the theme, but that's not gonna fly with Wednesday."

I turn towards them. "I have some more pressing matters to deal with."

Enid's excitement turns into disappointment. "But I thought we were bonding."

"I will meet up with you two later, or you'll meet up with me. Whatever comes first."

Y/n and Enid glance at each other for a moment. "If you say so." You say with slight disappointment in your voice.

You and Enid turn around to enter the store, I take the chance to leave before you manage to persuade me to enter that dungeon of a store.

When I'm walking down the street Thing taps my shoulder as we pass Uriah's Heap. "I'm going to see Galpin, I'm not stop-" I turn to look into the window to see a gothic black dress.

"Hi, Wednesday." The sound of a bell fills the air as my therapist leaves the store. "That dress will certainly turn some heads."

"Are you collecting more exotic trinkets for your office?" I state, drawing the attention away from the dress.

"Those are souvenirs from my travels. That's how I step outside of my comfort zone. Speaking of which, are you going to the Rave'n this weekend?"

"I'm not required to answer your questions out in the wild, am I?" I try to end the conversation.

"I look forward to talking about it at our next session." She turns to leave the other way. I turn to the entrance of the store, taking my time to enter.

I left with the dress in a bag, I wasn't expecting you to manage to persuade me to buy a dress.

I put Xavier's drawing on the sheriff's desk. "We both know there's a monster out there. If we're going to stop it, I think it's time we put our differences aside and work together."

"And this is your stake for me to deal you in?" The sheriff is now holding the drawing, inspecting it before grabbing a photograph and putting them side by side.

"Sorry you gotta do better than that. You've got some nice detail though." He hands me the drawing back.

"I didn't draw it." I fold the drawing before putting it back into my backpack.

"I need to know who did." He states firmly

"Unless we're exchanging intel, I'm not at liberty to say."

He sighs while looking off to the side. "Why would I share information about an ongoing murder investigation with a high school kid?"

"Because I go to Nevermore and you don't. Don't you want some eyes and ears behind those ivy-covered walls?"

"Listen Velma, why don't you and the Scooby gang stick to your homework and leave the investigating to the professionals." The phone starts ringing, causing the sheriff to answer. "What?"

The voice on the other end is slightly distorted by the age of the technology. "Mayor Walker's on line two, he's looking for an update."

I take cue to leave. "Hey, Addams."

The sheriff beckons me over. "Let me see that sketch again."

I walk back in, handing him the drawing.

"The person who drew this, that your suspect?"

I shake my head. "I believe he's having visions about it."

The sheriff is silent for a moment. "When you bring me some concrete evidence, maybe we'll talk."

I take the sketch back, before leaving the police station.

I'm sitting inside the Weathervane with Enid and her friends. I see Wednesday walk past though the window. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna check on Wednesday real quick."

Everyone at the table quietly acknowledges my statement before I leave the store.

The bell of the door fills the air. "Wednesday!" She turns around as I catch up.

"I see you found something." I look towards her bag.

We both continue walking, rounding a corner to be met with Tyler on the other side.

"Don't wanna ask what trouble you two are in now." Tyler looks past us for a second, looking at the sheriff's office behind us.

"Nothing we can't handle. Your father's in particularly frustrating form today. Avoid." Wednesday says as Tyler draws his vision back to us.

"Yeah, welcome to my world." Tyler murmurs before changing the conversation. "You guys have the Rave'n this weekend, right? It was all the buzz at the Weathervane today."

"Yeah, the Rave'ns this weekend." I answer, curious on where he's going.

"Are you going with anyone Wednesday?" Tyler asks, a bit of nervousness to his voice.

I find Wednesday glancing at me for a moment. "I'm going with Y/n."

I look at Wednesday trying to conceal my shock.

He avoids eye contact for a moment "Hope you two have fun." Disappointment laces his voice as he walks past us

Wednesday turns around to face him. "I'm not sure why you're upset."

"That's kind of the problem." Tyler turns around to meet us again. "I mean, call me crazy, Wednesday, but you keep giving me these signals.

"You're crazy." I interject myself into the conversation to be met with a scowl from Tyler.

His eyes soften again before meeting Wednesday's. "I thought we liked each other, but then you pull something like this, and I have no idea where I stand. I mean, am I in the more than friend zone or just a pawn in some game you're playing."

There's a lull in the conversation before Wednesday continues. "I like girls, Tyler."

My ears perk up at this wonderful news.

"I mean, yeah clearly. You're going with her." Tyler gestures his hand towards me. "Sorry, that was mean."

There was another lull in the conversation filled with awkward silence.

He points behind himself. "I guess I'll see you guys around." He turns around to walk away.

I walk into my shared dorm room to get ready for the Rave'n early. The room is dark as the sun has set. I'm the only soul in here. I assume Wednesday is still moving the evidence board to the bee shed.

Enid wasn't the biggest fan of having a board covered in pictures of corpse parts in the dorm.

I approach my desk to be greeted with a letter with the initials 'W.A.'

I pick it up, carefully opening the envelope as to not tear anything.

Dear Y/n Y/l/n,

I'm having trouble trying to find the words, this is all new to me. I believe I may have some sort of 'feelings' for you. Every time we come in to contact, I have this nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach. My heart races, unable to be calm in the presence of your touch. Yet, I'm insatiable for more.

I believe you may reciprocate these feelings, so why must we pretend otherwise? I want to attend this dance together more than merely friends.

However, if you don't reciprocate these feelings, I demand you burn this letter and forget this happened.

Wednesday Addams

The happiest smile slips onto my face as I jump in place. I put the letter in the top drawer of my desk before the door to the dorm opens.

Wednesday walks through the doorway, gazing towards me. She seems nervous.

"Wednesday!" I practically run to close the distance, my smile somehow getting bigger now that she's in my presence.

"I assume you found the letter." She states with a hint of worry.

I quickly nod. "Yes, and my answer is yes!"

Wednesday releases an exhale of relief. I see the weight release off her chest through her perfect posture.

"Can I uhm." I am now much quieter, my face quickly flushing red. "Can we hug?"

After Wednesday is silent for a moment and avoiding eye contact, I worry I may have overstepped.

"It's okay if you-"

"Yes." I find Wednesday's eyes have finally met mine again. "Please."

My smile returns before I wrap my arms around her into a warm embrace. Wednesday stands there for a moment with her arms by her side, unsure what to do.

Eventually, Wednesday reciprocates the hug. Wrapping her arms around my waist. Her touch is cool yet comforting.

We both untangle ourselves from the embrace, the warmth of each other's touch lingering on our skin.

"I'm going to get ready." I tell Wednesday, before heading to my closet.

I find myself waiting outside at the bottom of the stairs outside the dorm room. I didn't take as long as Wednesday to get ready.

I turn to the sound of Wednesday's heels tapping against the stairs. She's wearing this beautiful black gothic dress.

I can't help but gawk at the beauty descending the stairs. She looks ethereal.

"Wow, Wednesday. You look... " I'm silent for a moment, trying to find the right words and the confidence to speak them.

"Unrecognizable? Ridiculous?"

I find myself stumped for another moment. "Beautiful, I mean it Wednesday you have me at a loss for words."

Her gaze softens at my sentiment. Her eyes scan my body, silently admiring my appearance.

She breaks eye contact for a moment. "We can hold hands, if that's something you want to do."

I think it's so cute that's she trying to play it off as if she doing it for me.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I hold my hand out, waiting for hers to meet mine before our fingers interlock. I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through me from her contact, bringing to life the butterflies in my stomach.

"Shall we go?" I can tell by the slight shakiness to her voice I'm having the same effect on her.

I nod, my smile impossible to hide, as we make our way to the dance.

Wednesday and I walk through the entrance, our fingers interlocked. The sound of pop music fills the room as I feel everyone's eyes on us before Ms. Thornhill approaches. "Wednesday, Y/n. What a lovely surprise.

Thornhill's eyes stare at our hands. "I didn't know you two were a couple." She says with a smile

Wednesday and I glance at each other. "It's kind of a new thing." I say awkwardly.

"We're going to get drinks." Wednesday states, mostly to me.

"Have fun you two!" Ms Thornhill says with a smile as we walk away.

We approach the long table together. I squeeze Wednesday's hand so I don't get use to her touch.

"OMG I love the look!" Enid approaches, excitement filling her very being. We both turn towards her and she notices our hands.

Enid's eyes go wide. "Wait are you two officially a thing now?!"

I feel the temperature of my face drastically rise, Wednesday turns her face to see mine.

"I uh-" I start to say before Wednesday interrupts me.

"Interesting choice of date." Wednesday states flatly, looking past Enid to see Lucas.

I follow Wednesday's eyes, finding Lucas standing awkwardly.

"Wait, your date is Lucas Walker? You know he's the worst right?" I say, a hint of malice in my voice.

"It's not what it looks like." Enid says defensively.

"Good, because that pilgrim already has two strikes in my book." Wednesday is practically staring daggers at Lucas.

"Lucas is trying to make his ex jealous, and I'm trying to make Ajax jealous. It's a win-win."

"Why can't you just talk to Ajax instead of doing this? Communication is important." I say, ending my sentence quickly as I see Lucas approaching.

He puts his hands up like we're arresting him. "Wednesday, Y/n, I come in peace."

"That's a shame, I brought my pocket mace." Wednesday says, causing Lucas to lower his arm with a bit of fear etched onto his face. "The medieval kind."

Wednesday turns to grab herself and I a drink as Enid and Lucas walk away. "Just to let you know in advance, tomorrow night we're going to stake out a cave with Eugene. Eugene saw something in one of Xavier's drawing."

Wednesday hands me the drink. "I haven't been too good at keeping you up to date on our plans. I apologize."

I grab the drink. "It's cool, thanks for the heads up." I motion to dink Wednesday's and I's drinks together before each of us takes a sip.

We both turn as we see Xavier approach us at of our peripheral vision. "Hey Xavier! Did you ever find someone to come with?"

He looks around awkwardly for a moment. "Yeah uh, I came with Bianca."

The smile fades from my face. "What, why would you do that?"

Xavier shrugs. "Better than going alone I guess."

There is a lull in the conversation until 'The Goo Goo Muck' by 'The Cramps' started playing.

Wednesday drags me towards the crowd dancing. "Dance with me."

"Wednesday, I don't know I'm not much of a dancer." There's a hint of anxiety on my face as we get closer to the crowd.

"Why'd you agree to come to the dance with me if we weren't going to dance." She's dragging me in-between people now, persistent on the idea.

"I uh-" I find myself still as Wednesday let's go of my hand.

I find her eyes staring into mine intensely as she starts to get into the music, shaking her shoulders back and forth to the rhythm. I stand there awkwardly, watching her.

Her movements are rigid, but rhythmic. I find myself entranced.

I leave the trance after a few moments, remembering where I am. I look around to find people staring, and I can't tell if it's the good or bad kind.

My heartbeat accelerates at the sudden attention. I find myself unable to move. Do people think I'm weird? Why won't I dance?

I force my legs to move, shaking from the anxiety as I walk through the crowd of people dancing.

"Y/n?" I faintly hear Wednesday's voice as I make more distance.

I find an almost empty area just outside the party. I sigh as I sit down.

"Y/n?" I hear Wednesday's voice again as she sits down next to me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just. I get overwhelmed by crowds easily." I say, an awkward silence fills the air besides the muted sound of the music from the party.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have forced you." Wednesday states, a hint of empathy in her voice.

I find myself staring at the floor. "I want you to have fun as well though."

I find myself having difficulty choosing between looking at Wednesday and avoiding all eye contact, flickering between both.

"How about we take it slower." Wednesday scots closer, my eyes manage to remain on Wednesday's empathetic ones. "When a slow song plays, we'll dance together. I'll lead and guide you as we move along to the music."

I find myself nodding with a smile. "Okay, thank you Wends." A little bit of the anxiety fading.

Bianca walks in, taking a seat near us. I hold back any negative comments as it could effect Xavier's night as well. I notice her eyes are slightly glossy.

"I know this isn't usually something I'd ask you, but are you okay?" I ask, slight concern in my voice

Bianca looks at me before shrugging, looking away again the next moment.

Wednesday and I exchange a glance. "Do you want to talk about it?" I ask.

After another moment of silence, Wednesday interjects. "Where's Xavier?"

"We had a little tiff." Bianca says, giving in. "About you two actually."

Wednesday and I share a concerned glance. "What about us?" We say simultaneously.

"He wasn't expecting to see you two together. He was happy for you at first, but there was jealousy building up or something. After he saw you two dancing, or more so saw Wednesday dancing and you standing there, he asked me to use my siren song on him to have him forget his feelings."

I look away for a second, ignoring her comment before speaking. "He did that?"

Bianca nods with her eyes slightly more glossy. I can imagine how used she must feel.

Our conversation is cut short when a scream finds it way to our room. Wednesday and I instantly stand, looking towards the noise which is followed by multiple screams.

Wednesday grabs my hand as we run side by side back to the dance, where the screams originated. Some people covered in what looks like blood run past us.

After we squeeze through the crowd, we find the sprinklers are spraying the supposed blood all over the party.

Wednesday smiles at the scene before sticking out her hand under the continuous splatter, putting her finger to her mouth to taste whatever it is.

My face contorts a bit in disgust.

Wednesday's amused smile quickly fades. "They couldn't even spring for real pigs' blood." Her shoulders drop in disappointment. "It's only paint."

People continuously run past us in fear, unable to tell who's bumping into who. Suddenly, Wednesday's head falls back, entering a vision.

I hold Wednesday to avoid her falling and for us to not be trampled. As the crowd loses volume, Wednesday comes back. "Eugene is in the woods."

She meets my eyes with concern. "He's in danger."

Wednesday grabs my hand before running with the crowd. Letting go of my hand whenever we escape the crowd, we soon find ourselves leaving the school into the woods.

The hectic sound of our panic-filled footsteps fill the forest with the crunching of leaves. The moonlight casting a pale glow over the forest.

I wave my wand out, emitting a blue light to guide the way.

"Eugene!" Wednesday and I take turns shouting. My heart beating at a thousand miles an hour, my legs burning at the sudden activity.

We both stop for a moment, looking around. "Eugene?!" I shout.

"Y/n! over here!" We hear Eugene yell.

Wednesday and I turn towards his voice, running towards it as fast as possible

We find Eugene laying in the fallen leaves. "Eugene." Wednesday states, standing in place.

I quickly approach Eugene, kneeling beside him. He has three fresh claw wounds across his chest, the blood pouring out of them. I close my eyes, recalling a spell I've been practicing the past few months.

I put my wand to the end of one of the claw marks running across his torso, blood trickling out staining his clothes.

"Oh my God! Is he alive?!" Ms Thornhill approaches from behind.

I close my eyes in frustration and panic. "Everyone please shut up!" I shout, overwhelmed. "I need to concentrate."

Everyone goes silent, staring at my back. I put my wand back to the top of the wound, running it down smoothly till it reaches the bottom.

"Vulnera, Sanentur." My voice utters the incantations slowly and rhythmically in a hushed lullaby.

I repeat the incantation, following the same motion. This time, the blood starts to clear away into nothing. Cleaning the wound.

I pause for a moment, before doing the incantation one more time. The wound knitting itself shut.

I take a deep inhale. "Two more to go." I utter to myself, feeling the four eyes behind me staring into me like daggers.

I find the end of the second cut, my wand trembling. I take another deep breath to collect myself.

"Vulnera Sanentur." It feels as if my voice is the only sound in the world.

Whenever I finish with that cut, I feel my eyes getting glossy. The stress overflowing my body. I can't break down just yet. I find the last cut, casting the healing spell one last time.

I stare at his unconscious body, at his healed but new found scars. Tears start to stream down my face, the stress escaping my body.

I put my hands over eyes, my shoulders slumped forward. The sound of my sobs echo amongst the trees. The sense of relief strengthening my overwhelmed tears.

Part 8.

Past Lives Masterlist

[angelic-ambedo]

The Weirdest Fucking Movies I've Ever seen Pt. 1

Okay so I sort of champion myself as a lover of weird movies. And it's funny because regardless of how many I've seen, every time I watch a weird movie I genuinely feel as if it is the weirdest movie I've ever seen in my life.

So, I decided to make a list which compiles all of said weird movies and then a description of why I find each so uniquely weird. If you find any of these descriptions or titles intriguing, I recommend you seek these movies out, because a weird movie = a good life ya know so yeah

If you have more weird movies please please recommend them im hungry for new crazy cinema bebesssss

Eraserhead (1977) - genuinely makes no sense.

Coherence (2013) - trippy scientifically interesting thriller

Some Velvet Morning (2013) - abusive cat n mouse relationship

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004) - emotional violence

Greener Grass (2019) - let's shame suburbia!

Trash Humpers (2009) - people fucking the trash...?

Julien Donkey-Boy (1999) - mental illness be so sad and trippy

Gummo (1997) - literal photo album of a dysfunctional town

Slaughtered Vomit Dolls (2006) - bulimia PSA in disguise

Black Bear (2020) - art seeps into the "real" world

Begotten (1990) - god kills himself

Trouble Every Day (2001) - eating people presented as...a turn on?

Baise-Moi (2000) - punk feminist murderous women are sick and society sux

Palindromes (2004) - one character is played by a ton of different actors of different ages, races, and sexes

964 Pinocchio (1991) - so much vomit, even more cyberpunk lobotomy sex machine madness

Meet the Feebles (1989) - the muppets give each other STDs and commit mass murder

In the Realm of the Senses (1976) - a torrid, pornographic affair used to escape the horrors of a war-torn world

Enter the Void (2009) - going to the past, present, and future, POV shots that include blinking, going inside the body, taboo themes with a psychedelic style

Love (2015) - horny pseudo-porno about a misogynistic asshole who somehow pulls hot, sexually adventurous women

Climax (2018) - LSD fueled nightmare

Pink Flamingos (1972) - a competition to be the "filthiest person alive" (spoiler alert: the cool drag queen wins)

Vivarium (2019) - Suburbia is still creepy, guys

Be My Cat: A Film for Anne (2015) - can we please stop having erotomania like celebrities aren't into u babe :(

No No Nooky TV (1987) - Computers being cool and saying "boobs" and "clit"

The Piano Teacher (2001) - unsafe nonconsensual bdsm and sexual repression is...no. please no.

The Night Porter (1974) - stockholm syndrome and wild bdsm stuff with postwar themes

Belle de Jour (1967) - more bdsm themes

Titane (2021) - woman fucks a car and gets pregnant

Daisies (1966) - two girls cut up pickles and destroy the patriarchy

Creep 1 and 2 (2014, 2017) - murder has never been this funny

Garbanzo Gas (2007) - a human cow gets an all-expenses paid trip to a motel before it hits the slaughterhouse

Melancholie der Engel (2009) - ew.

In Our Garden (2002) - old men dicks + weirdest dialogue I've ever heard in my life

The Rehearsal (TV series) (2022) - this is the ultimate weirdest thing ever and I don't know how else to categorize it.

Trigger Warnings (all of these movies are weird/fucked up but some of them contain actual fucked up stuff that like. happened in real life. so below are the triggers for that kind of stuff. All of these films are genuine films, not the gore stuff the internet produces, but some of them because of the country/time period/transgressiveness include content that is inappropriate and/or ethically unacceptable, so I've included those movies below)

Baise-Moi - unsimulated sex scenes which includes SA scenes that actors consented to but characters did not. this proves a feminist point but is still incredibly upsetting and stayed with me for a while as there are close ups and its awful.

In the Realm of the Senses - Please look into this one more before you watch it, I'm not going to describe things in detail because it makes me so uncomfortable but there are some scenes that involve young actors that should not ethically have been in the situations they were put in. The movie is exceptionally well made and from what I know globally respected so I don't know why they had to ruin it for me but whatever.

Pink Flamingos - One infamous scene involves an actual chicken death. It was the early 70s (long time ago and no PETA) and they apparently ate the chicken afterward, so I felt less immoral about this one but still gross.

Melancholie der Engel - okay please genuinely never watch this movie unless you're super into traumatizing yourself and are very desensitized I guess. There's a ton of actual animal abuse in very very graphic/unnecessarily disturbing shock type situations. There's other bad unsimulated stuff but this is the worst of it from what I know.

Love and Meet the Feebles contain scenes that are transphobic and/or racist, which is gross. Slaughtered Vomit Dolls was made by a very bad person. A bunch of the movies also have unsimulated sex stuff, I don't know if that makes anyone uncomfortable but if it does I'm just putting it out there.

[songmingisthighs]

Wanbelyn

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. xlv - pb&j

neurosurgeon!hongjoong × reader

buy me coffee ?

where love and peace is held, i never expected for this to happen. i planned and i planned, i expected, and i hoped, but it was never you. you held what i wanted hostage to make room for you, the thing that i needed but has no means of acceptance. deny me, live your best life.

Hongjoong is not one to be surprised easily. Well, by events or situations. He's a scaredy cat who had fallen victim to his son's pranks at least 20 times. In the past month.

But the sight of Kijoong's teacher, Mr Kang, lighting up as you produced a bag of sandwiches from your bag and handed it over to him almost made him choke on his own spit. Honestly, he didn't know why he was so surprised as he had seen (peeked) into your (private) conversation with Mr Kang the other day. Maybe he had been in denial (for some darn reason) about the exact identity of the Yeosang you talked with, thinking that it could be someone else with a similar name. That's possible, right? But seeing the way you adjusted the sleeve of his rolled-up shirt, Hongjoong was hesitant.

When you took Kijoong inside to settle in his cubby and spend some time before the classes started, Hongjoong found himself walking towards the guy he was eyeing.

"Ah, good morning! Mr Kim, right? Kim Kijoong's dad?" Yeosang asked politely with a warm smile. Even Hongjoong had to admit that his heart fluttered slightly so his "baseless" annoyance curiosity has decreased slightly. "Y-yes," clearing his throat, Hongjoong slipped his hands into his pants pockets, "How are you? How's your dad? I heard he was at the hospital?" "Yeah, yeah, he's fine! We went to the other KQ branch hospital so he was taken care of well. His recovery was even better when (y/n) sent him soup," he chuckled.

At the mention of the teacher's dad knowing you, Hongjoong couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Oh, I didn't realize that you two were so close," he nodded casually. Yeosang shrugged, "I guess in a sense we are, but (y/n) just cares about people and she takes it upon herself to take care of those who know her from her roots. Another hint, you two had known each other for a long while. "(y/n) didn't mention that she knew you to me and she often tells me about the people she knows from her youth." Hongjoong cringed slightly, realizing how easy it could be for Yeosang to twist his words and make it seem like he was jealous. Which he kinda was but it's not like it's obvious. Thankfully, if he did realize, Yeosang didn't let it show. "That could be because I haven't seen her in a long while and it didn't even occurred to us that we knew each other until the second day I came back," well that made Hongjoong more curious and Yeosang could sense it based on the way Hongjoong nodded along and putting all of his focus on him which made him rather nervous. So this time, it was Yeosang who cleared his throat and mended his posture, "S-see, (y/n) and I knew each other from way back in high school. We met because we had entered the same debate competition and we were in opposition. She was formidable with her arguments and it actually made me fear her in a major way. I didn't even think I'd get to talk to her but as you can guess, I did," "How so?" Hongjoong asked, engaged in the story, "Well, she made my teammate cry and she just wanted to make sure that the know-it-all 12th grader had his mommy to wipe his snot. We were in 10th grade at the time." The revelation made Hongjoong let out a snort which caused some parents and their children nearby to jump in surprise, looking at him who had to turn around in shame.

"So, is that how you and (y/n) started dating?" Hongjoong asked after calming down, not really realizing the words that he used. Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows momentarily before chuckling, "Oh, no. We are not dating! We became close again after the realization of our connection and became even closer because I found out that my spotter at the gym is actually Kijoong's instructor so we just shared and bonded and got even closer because of that!" he explained.

Though he was not even supposed to feel that way, Hongjoong felt a sense of relief and his posture even relaxed considerably. Though, he tensed up again when Yeosang continued, "Although, between you and me, (y/n) seems to be interested in this other guy." "What other guy? Is it someone she's close with? How'd you know?" At that point, Hongjoong didn't even care that he was acting rather ridiculously, asking random, personal stuff to his son's homeroom teacher. How professional. "I think you'd know him too," Yeosang stated and for one moment, Mingi came to mind but considering how you still deny him ice cubes, that seemed irrational, impossible, and positively stupid. Yeosang turned around slightly and pointed to where you were inside. "There."

Slowly, almost dramatically, Hongjoong turned his head, following Yeosang's finger to see you talking to the guy he recognized as the other homeroom teacher in Kijoong's class, Choi Soobin. While you were kind and affectionate towards Yeosang, you were more... Flirty with Soobin. That was the only word that seemed suitable because your stance was more passive yet open while still maintaining some boundaries with Soobin. Very different from the way you were with Yeosang whom you treated in a more motherly manner, like how you would Kijoong. With Yeosang, it was tidying him and giving him what he needed but with Soobin, it was more playful what with the gentle pushes and allowing him to guide you so your head won't hit the shelve nearby. You both looked very comfortable with each other, being as close as you both could and remaining respectful at a kindergarten while Kijoong tried to climb up Soobin's legs. His eyes glazed over the way you gently chastised the boy and tried to pry him off but Soobin grabbed your hands away from Kijoong and made gestures that suggested he was telling you to just let Kijoong be.

It was then that Hongjoong realized that his gut feeling was correct but he had jumped to a conclusion.

A lot of thoughts ran through Hongjoong's head, trying to make sense of things as if correcting an assignment, marking parts that were wrong and putting notes on certain parts as if pointing out which information needed elaboration. Above all, one thought seemed more prominent compared to the other. The thought that questioned whether or not he was supposed to feel bitter, jealous, and, well, hurt. Knowing that he was questioning his action did nothing, however. He just kept staring at the two of you in the corner while he was there, at a distance. Because that's what he had made his persona towards you to be since the beginning, right?

Distant, unapproachable.

Like he always was.

Alone.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

taglist :

@yunho-mp3 @strawberry-yeo @luvt0kki @allisonleannn @dinossaurz @khjcs @blackb3ll @aloverga @at1nys-blog @itsbeeble @potatomountain @axo-l0tl @green-thots @intancollins @galaxypox @fire-and-flame @maddiebabyxoxo @alyssajavenss @mirror-juliet @gxlden-bxbyy @charreddonuts @dreamlesswonder86 @mayonnaisehoeshit @kodzukein @teenyfinds @dear-dreamie @mitchloveswriting @soobiverse @satsuri3su @phenomenalgirl9 @guess-monst3r @dimeb29 @ka-ni-ma @yayaistime @angelicyeo @kyume02 @thedistractedwriter @surveilenceysystem @ateezourstars @aursmrt @mismatchfluffysocks @puppyminnnie @nycol-ie @yungilia @writingbarnes @worcesheshestershiresauce

[mikaryu]

brother’s bsf pt. 2

part 2!! cars and smut, some arguing i believe i havent read this in a while.

enjoy!

The white-haired oncer. The azygos man. A player. Gojo had become a man of many names his freshman year. He was known to be good in bed. The best, even. Girls at their college always were fanatic in their attempts to get even just one night with him. If they could, that was all they would ever get. When he wasn’t ruining someone’s legs, he was flaunting himself. Teachers resented him, male students indignant. Everyone was jealous of him. Not only did he cast a shadow over any man’s attempt with a woman, he was wealthy, and a good student. He hadn’t gotten into an ivy league school for just his money. However, that was the main reason.

Leaning on his white Carrera, not a scrap or speck of dirt to be seen, laughing at Geto smoking a cigarette in the passenger seat. He would smile at a group of female students passing by, winking at one in particular through his achromic lashes, over his black circular glasses. That was how each day went.

His sophomore year, he disappeared. There were murmurs here and there of people who managed to get with him early in the school year, but they soon dissipated. New freshman girls heard rumors of his previous year’s reputation and tried making moves on him. Allas, the man had become stubborn. Something was different. He became a challenge, or competition, of sorts. A trophy. Who could make the great Gojo Satoru crack?

You, of course, were mostly unaware of your brother’s best friend’s reputation. To you, he was just a close friend. Yes, eventually you had friends tell you of the rumors, but it didn’t bother you. He was your best friend, and someone you deeply cared about as you grew close that school year. Any time you weren’t stuck with your head in the books studying, or trapped in a long lecture class, you were with Geto and Gojo. The three of you were inseparable. Gojo would take the two of you in his car out for dinner, to the movies, or just for joyrides. Anything either of you wanted. Geto would sit in the passenger seat, while you lay in the back with your feet up. Gojo had scolded you several times before, leaning back with one hand on the wheel to slap your legs down, but eventually he gave up. Seeing him show some sort of annoyance was always amusing, as it contradicted the man’s unserious personality.

Your first year of college was perfect.

Of course you had to do something to fuck it up. You just weren’t expecting it.

Gojo’s eyes open, slowly taking in a bed of white reflecting the sun from the window. Your body is still pressed up against him, his arms lazily wrapped around you. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer, nose pressing into your hair. He inhales, your scent filling his senses with warmth. You’re still wearing his hoodie. He had sacrificed a year of pussy for this and god was it worth it.

He was ecstatic when you texted him. In case you made a mistake, he made sure to act confused. But when you stayed persistent, he knew he had his chance.

Never had he known what love felt like. It was always “smash and go”. He never stayed long enough to experience romance. Everyone else was just so boring . But seeing your face illuminated by the morning’s sun, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling slowly, your long lashes resting on your skin, he is stuck . He never got to this level of intimacy, waking up after a night with someone. He wouldn’t want it with anyone else.

”Satoru?” Your throat croaks, groggy from sleep, sore from the night.

His hand cups your cheek, pulling your face close. “Good morning darlin’.” You look up at him, closing your eyes again when he kisses you. His lips are warm, evoking your memories of last night. He pulls away. “How’d you sleep? Good?”

You nuzzle your face into his bare chest, sighing and murmuring something inaudible.

Gojo chuckles, petting your hair, propping himself up on one arm. “What was that?”

”Yes.”

He smiles down at you as you look up. “Think Suguru’ll be mad?”

”Don’t remind me.” You turn over, pulling away from his hold and rolling off the bed.

You shuffle through your drawers and closet, collecting pieces of clothing for your outfit today. He watches you from your bed as you put on a tennis skirt and replace his hoodie for a baggy T.

You turn back to him, hands on your hips. “So?”

His eyes run up and down your figure quickly before returning to your face. “Looks great.” His smirk gives away that he obviously isn’t talking about the outfit.

”Not how I look, dumbass,” you throw his hoodie back at him, hitting his face. “I’m talking about us. Am I just another one of your ‘one-times’? Are we still friends? Or what?”

“Woah woah woah, ‘one-times’? That’s awfully cold.”

”You know what I mean, Gojo. I know about your reputation.”

”Oh, so we’re back to Gojo?”

”Stop changing the subject!”

He shrugs, pulling the covers away to get out of your bed. He finds his shirt somewhere astray on the floor, slipping it over his head. You groan, looking down at the floor as he walks up to you. He takes your chin in his hand, holding your face to look back up at him. “You know that’s not how I think about you.” His finger drags along your cheek, his face relaxing as he admires your features.

”Why don’t we go somewhere? I’ll take you on, I guess a date. That sound good?”

”I guess that depends.”

”On what, exactly?” His smile is sarcastic, teasing.

You lean in close, lips beside his ear. “Let me drive?” You’re grinning more than ever, he whips his head to the side.

”Fuck no.” He pushes your shoulders gently, laughing.

You pout, looking up at him, begging. “Please? You never let anyone drive, it’s such a pretty car.” You drag out your words, fists gently pounding at his chest.

His arms grab around your waist, picking you up so your legs wrap around and squeeze his hips. Your arms are around his neck now as he spins the two of you. “Satoru!” You giggle, throwing your head back.

When he stops, he lays you back on your bed, pinning you down and kissing your neck. “Fine,” he says it in such a sassy way, but you know he’s only playing. “since I love you so much. Anything for you.”

He loves you. Satoru loves you.

His head leaves your neck, staring at your complexion. “I think I love you to.”

”You think?”

”Just a hunch.”

But you aren’t lying. As he kisses all over your face, holding your cheeks together as your giggle, squirming when his hair tickles you until your lips interlock, you know it’s true.

~

At nearly twenty hundred hours, Satoru rolls down your street in that shiny white 911 Carrera of his. You had snuck him out of your house earlier, making sure to avoid Suguru. The two of you would have to tell him eventually, but for now, the secret was part of the fun. The oranging sun casts over his figure as he steps out, readjusting his shades while walking over to meet you in your driveway.

”Let me escort you, m’lady.” He teases, bowing all gentleman-like before smiling up at you over the frame of his glasses.

“Why thank you.” You take his arm as he walks you to the driver’s seat.

You sit down, adjusting yourself and fastening in. He shuts the door, walking to sit in the passenger seat.

”Now I get to be a passenger princess instead of Suguru.”

You roll your eyes at him, holding your hand out for the keys.

He bites his lip nervously, hesitating before digging in his pocket. His hand hovers yours, waiting another moment before dropping them in your palm.

”Please, go easy on her.” He bends forward, hugging the dashboard where the glove compartment is.

You plug the key into the ignition, pressing your foot on the brake before turning it. The engine starts up, gauge needles fluctuating before returning to their position. Multiple indicators flicker behind the wheel, a jingle sounds.

”Take care of her? You’re due for an oil change, dumbass.”

”It didn’t say that earlier.” He leans his head in front of you, looking at the dash.

”Right, you just want to seem more responsible than you actually are. I’m sure you don’t want me naming examples.”

He tenses, knowing what you are referencing. “Who let you drive?”

You shut up. This was the first time in the driver’s seat, let alone even the front of his car. You wrap your fingers around the top of the shift stick, gently moving it into first with your foot on the clutch. Slowly releasing the clutch and adding to the gas pedal, you stay at a steady pace before turning off your road. The darkening highway has few cars, most people home from work now. You shift into fourth gear, reaching just above 110 kilometers per hour (70/mph).

He plugs his phone into the aux, The Neighbourhood playing.

"You can step it up a little bit, I think I've gotten used to your driving." Gojo reaches his hand over the console, palm resting on your thigh, lightly gripping the sides. You switch into fourth gear, pressing on the gas until you're at a steady 140 kilometers per hour (85/mph).

"Careful, try to stay under five thousand RPM. Switch to fifth if you go any faster." He takes his hand off your thigh, using it to cover your hand on the shift stick. When he uses your hand to shift into fifth, you speed up more. Behind the wheel, you read 157 kilometers per hour (98/mph).

The window tosses your hair around, the sun nearly blinding your eyes as you are facing directly West. It casts pink steaks on the altostratus clouds, fading into purples and deep blues behind you. Gojo is leaning back, looking at you smiling. He imitates your face, a grin on his lips as he admires your features covered by the fading sunlight. You look at him momentarily, before returning your gaze to the road. His hand is on your thigh again when you switch to sixth gear, 180 kilometers and climbing (110/mph).

The sunlight retracts as the sun disappears from the horizon, sky dimming into oxford blue. Suddenly, Gojo reaches to grab the shift. "Slow down, now." He almost yells, quickly pushing it into a lower gear as you drop speeds. He points out a cop ahead, hidden in a median surrounded by trees. You think you were quick enough to slow down, but when you see blue and red headlights flash on, you panic.

"Swap with me." Gojo reaches over you, clicking your seatbelt off and grabbing your shoulders. You hop into the passenger as he stretches over the console, plopping into the driver's seat and rebuckling.

He grips the stick shift, forcing it into fifth, then sixth, returning to 180 kilometers per hour in a matter of seconds (110/mph). The cop is still behind him, siren going off. He presses a button on the wheel, raising the volume.

Move to the city with me

I don't wanna be alone

(Don't wanna be alone)

You're too pretty for me

Baby, I know (it's true), yeah

His foot doesn't let off the gas, faster and faster, until the numbers don't feel any different as they climb. You're clutching onto anything you can, right hand holding the door, left hand gripping Gojo's bicep. Your ears are filled with wind, your own heartbeat, and the music. You whip your head around, seeing the cop falling behind. You look back at Gojo, his jaw clenched, eyes darting between the road in front of him and the rearview mirror over his glasses. His white hair flies wildly in the wind, and he starts to smile.

You look better when you first wake up

Than anybody else I've fucked

Baby, I got good luck with you

I didn't know we'd get so far

And it's only the start

Baby, you got me worried (ayy)

You can't help but laugh, basking in the rush of adrenaline you just had. He looks at you quickly, laughing along with you as he continues at 250 kilometers per hour (155/mph).

Your love is scaring me

No one has ever cared for me

As much as you do

Ooh, yeah, I need you here, oh

Eventually, the cop is out of sight. Gojo holds off the gas, letting it glide down to a slow speed. He shifts back into a sane gear, turning into an exit and pulling off the highway.

"Can you find out where the hell are we?" He looks at you over his glasses, exhaling in a breathy laugh.

You pull out your phone, showing him the distance from your house. By the time you are within twenty minutes of your house, it is past twenty one hundred hours. He pulls into a Chick-Fil-A parking lot, turning the engine off. He presses something, the top starting to fold back on.

He gets out of the car, grabbing the seat lever and pulling it forward so he can get into the back. "What are you doing?

"Get back here and bend over the console."

Your mouth gapes open, astonished by his forwardness.

"Close your mouth, we can do that another time." He's grinning, manspreading with his arms spread over the top of the seats.

You're embarrassed, but nonetheless, follow his demands. You try not to struggle, sliding your legs over the console into the back. You sit in the center of the back, then lean forward to bend over the console like he asked. He slides over so his legs are around yours, his hands cupping your ass in your shorts. They run up your back, lifting your shirt along the way. He's leaning over you now, pushing your hair to the side so he can kiss your neck. Your arms are stretched in front of you, gripping the sides of the console.

His hands are on your hips, finger hooking at the waistband of your shorts. You whine when he bites your neck, his tongue quickly laving over the spot. He pulls down your shorts so they fall to your ankles. His hand roughly grips your ass, kneading it before moving his fingers to ghost over your clothed entrance.

God, your head is reeling . The car is cramped, but you have no care. You would bend like a contortionist for him if he so needed. Already, you could see the first signs of fog on the windshield and windows. Your body is hot, your breath is heightened and heavy.

He pushes your panties to the side, two fingers parting your folds. His touches are so light, purposefully teasing you. You can feel him smile his breath on your neck and ear. His free hand comes up, wrapping around your hair and pulling just enough so your head tilts back more. You're gripping to the console, neck strained, back arching. His hips are pressed against your ass, his arm around your waist so his fingers can stroke your wet pussy. He slides a finger in, slowly thrusting so you let out a mewl.

"Feel that? Feel how wet you are? All because of me, hm?" His nibbles at the tip of your ear, pulling away to kiss your neck again. "Gonna fuck you, right here and now. In the back of my car, make you take me like a fucking slut." He adds another finger, roughly thrusting in, curling into that one spot deliciously .

You moan, trying to turn your head to look at him. He tugs at your hair again, redirecting your gaze through the front of the car. Your eyes flutter closed. The pain doesn't even register. The only thing you can feel is him . His hands, fingers deep in you fast paced, his mouth on your neck, dick pressed to your ass. Your legs start to shake, barely holding you up anymore. Just before your knees buckle, he pulls his fingers out.

"No-" He lets go of your hair, your head falling before he catches you by your chin.

He pulls your jaw open, putting his fingers in your mouth. You wrap your lips around his fingers, groaning when you taste yourself.

"Yeah, just like that." Your tongue circles his fingers. He pushes them further, forcing you to gag.

He pulls them out, wiping your spit on your bunched up shirt. You let your head fall forward when he takes his hand off your chin, going to undo his pants. You rest your forehead on the console, tilting your head to look back at him as he slides his pants down. His cock is pressed against your ass, his hips rocking to rub it against you.

"God- fuck," his tip teases your entrance, pushing in just enough to be inside, then out again to rub along your fold, “been waiting all day."

"Satoru," you spread your legs more, "please just-"

You gasp when he sinks into you, stretching you out, making your walls clench and hug his cock the further he goes.

"Fuck…" he drags out, groaning when he shallowly thrusts again.

You feel slick dripping down your thighs, struggling to think as your senses slowly drown. Your suffocating under his smells, his skin, his voice, trying to stay surfaced but inevitably sinking back down because of him .

His hand spreads over the back of your neck, holding your head down. Your back arches as his thrusts deepen, slowly getting closer to that spot he found last time. Something about the way he feels is honestly just fucking poetic . How someone else can be so perfect for another, to the point where they physically click into place.

And you know that he's perfect for you, you do. Because no one else has ever made you feel like this, and you know it is permanent. When he whispers in your ear, telling you sweet nothings as his cock rams into you, you are melting. When he tells you to cum because he knows what you are feeling, you do.

Your legs shake, giving out under you as you spasm underneath him. He holds your waist, keeping your hips close to him when he finishes. His head drops to rest on your back, fringe sticking to his sweat covered forehead.

"God, fuck, baby. Are you here?" He laughs in your ear, the only thing reminding you that you are still on Earth. That you are still in the back of his car.

He pulls out of you, sitting back on the seat and pulling you next to him. His hand pushes your hair out of your face, behind your neck. He kisses the spot under your ear, making you shiver to the touch.

"You are so beautiful, you know that, right?"

You lean your head on his shoulder, basking in his presence.

"Thank you, Satoru."

"For what?"

"For loving me."

He does not argue. Why should he when you speak the truth?

[queer-devil]

DRDT Incorrect Quotes Pt 2

Bc it was fun last time

Same generator was used

Eden: Good morning!

Ace: Is it? Is it really?

J: You know what the problem is? Your really cute, so no one ever told you to shut your pie-hole.

Veronika: You think I’m cute?

J: SHUT YOUR PIE-HOLE!

Nico: Hu, Ace keeps bullying me at school.

Hu: Ask your teacher for help.

The next day…

Nico, to their teacher: Will you help me beat up Ace?

Teruko: That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!

Nico: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!

Teruko:

Teruko: What?

Nico: I need to feed my Neopets!

Teruko: Is anyone going to tell me what's going on in here?!

Eden: It's kind of complicated, but Ace-

Teruko: Got it. Forget I asked.

Whit: Yo! I heard you like reptiles, got any fun facts?

Nico: If a crocodile eats your dad, they become your new dad.

Eden: Breathe, just breathe.

Arei: I’ve done nothing with my life! I’m a failure!

David: Awww, that never bothered you before.

Rose: I am not an early bird or a night owl. I am some form of permanently exhausted pigeon.

Whit: If I die, my funeral will be the biggest party ever and you're all invited.

Charles: "If?"

Ace: Great, the only party I'm ever invited to and they might not even die.

Min: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

Whit: Fellas, I gotta know for science. Is the opposite of red green or blue?

Rose: Technically a mix of green and blue?

Ace: So blurple.

Levi: That's implying you're mixing blue and purple.

Ace: Would you rather have fucking bleen? MOTHERFUCKING GRUE?

Levi: You were confusing before but now I'm scared.

David: What are the hardest things to say?

Charles: I was wrong.

Teruko: I need help.

Whit: Worcestershire sauce.

Teruko: Who else is hiding in the laundry room trying to listen to Charles and Whit's convo?

Eden: Me. I'm in the laundry basket.

Veronika: I'm in the washing machine.

Ace: I'm in the closet.

Eden: We accept you Ace.

Ace: No I'm literally in the closet.

Eden: Love is love.

Charles: There's nothing to do....

Whit: You can wash the dishes you promised to wash about a week ago.

Charles: *pulls out his phone* Nevermind.

Veronika, watching Ace: Ah yes. The mysterious and beautiful Ace…

Veronika: …I wonder what sort of melodic sounds this wonderful being makes?

Ace: *screaming*

Eden: What makes you think it's okay to watch Hannibal given its subject matter?

J: Sometimes, I watch television shows for entertainment purposes.

Veronika: Because I condone murder and cannibalism.

Teruko: Why would you give a knife to Xander?!

David, shrugging: Xander felt unsafe.

Teruko: Now I feel unsafe!

David: I’m sorry…

David: Would you like a knife?

J: I have a problem.

Veronika: Kill it.

J: Can you chill for like, two seconds?

Xander: Don’t go picking a fight with me. I could make your life difficult.

Ace, sarcastically: Wow. I wonder what it’d be like to have a difficult life.

Whit: Don't quote me on this, but I believe murder is illegal!

Ace: Come to think of it… You’ve always been nice to me.

Ace: I mean, you listen to all my problems-

Levi: No, Ace I just simply stand here while you talk, there’s a big difference.

Eden: You know what I learned from my friendship with Ace?

Nico: There’s no such thing as too mean?

J: Never let your friends know for sure if you like them?

Levi: Always hold a grudge?

Levi: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you.

Nico: Being a fish.

Levi: …Well, shit.

David: I don’t mean to be rude—

Teruko: Yet, sadly, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often.

Hu: "Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves."

David: ...

David: What a stupid fucking quote.

David: I'm killing way more than two people, idiot.

Eden: You know, Teruko, when you generalize, you tell general... lies.

Teruko: ...

Teruko: Are you trying to teach me moral lessons through puns.

Levi: Hey, Ace, do you have feelings for me?

Ace: Yeah, anger.

[mypimpademia]

— The Teacher pt. 3 (final)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Gojo is yet to make a decision on where your relationship will go. But after a long time of thinking, and a conversation with Megumi, he comes to a conclusion

TW: None

Note: Click/tap here for part 1! Or Click/tap here for part 2! Tysm for all the love y’all have been giving these, this was not at all meant to be a series but I’m glad y’all are enjoying it (I am too dw)😭💀. This is the last part of the series, thank you again!

⇶ After your date, you were scared about where things between you and Satoru would go

⇶ It wasn’t the date itself that made you question, far from it. The date went great, or at least you thought so

⇶ But you had so many anxious thoughts, all of the worst case scenarios running through your head, and every “what if” scenario imaginable

⇶ But thankfully, all of your worries were quickly washed away, and you instead started questioning why you even had them in the first place

⇶ After putting Megumi to bed, Satoru called you in hopes that you were still awake

⇶ You answered fast, and your sweet voice came through the phone as you said hello

⇶ He thanked you again for coming out with him, and you of course thanked him for the date

⇶ You began grading papers since you were already up when you were supposed to be sleeping, and stayed on the phone with Satoru while you did so

⇶ He watched tv, randomly telling you about random funny things that happened in a scene, and you’d tell him about funny answers your students put on their papers

⇶ You eventually lost track of time, and you didn’t know how long you’d been on the phone with him, but you felt like a giddy teenager talking to her crush

⇶ The call went on into late hours of the night, so late that you were both in and out of sleep mid conversation, but denied it anytime the other said something about it

⇶ Satoru completely succumbed to sleep over time, and you hung up to get some sleep yourself

⇶ After that, Satoru would call, or at least text, you multiple times a day

⇶ He’d text good morning, and call if you happened to be up as early as him, text you when he knew it was your lunch break, call you when he knew you were getting home from work, and call you to say good night

⇶ You were a normal part of each other’s routine, and a lot of times you’d text him during class about something Megumi did, but for the most part you talked about anything with each other

⇶ Satoru even talked a little bit about work and complained about his “boss” and ppl he worked with

⇶ You grew to not care so much about what he did for a living and more things about him that were still unknown to you

⇶ It felt odd to not care at first, because most people would

⇶ Because what if he was seeing other women? A killer? Loving a double life?

⇶ But after growing closer to him, you could feel how genuine he was, and let yourself enjoy the relationship for what it was instead of worrying or prying

⇶ Besides, the mystery was alluring, and he just seemed like someone who doesn’t like to throw out too much information about himself. So you pushed no further and decided that he’d tell you when he was ready

⇶ Weeks passed, and you were going over to Satoru’s for dinner at least once a week, and he’d take you out for a date every once in awhile

⇶ You even went out to dinner with Megumi a few times, and felt like a little family doing so. Even getting comments like ‘You’re such a cute family!’

⇶ You and Satoru always brushed them off, just chuckling and muttering ‘thanks’, but never once denying it

⇶ On one of your dates, he finally asked you to officially be his girlfriend, sputtering and blushing as he tried to cover his tracks with a joke when he felt embarrassed, before you cut him off and told him that you’d love to

⇶ After that, Satoru began entrusting you with watching Megumi, (not that he didn’t before especially considering that you’re his teacher) and when he got too caught up with work he’d ask you to come over an watch Megumi

⇶ You and little Meg would always have fun together, playing video games, action figures, playing outside, drawing, etc. and sometimes you’d take him out to get ice cream or toy shopping if he kept it a secret from Satoru

⇶ One day, Satoru came home a bit later than he had anticipated, and saw both you and Megumi passed out on the couch, cartoons playing on the tv

⇶ Megumi was already dressed up in his pajamas, so Satoru carried him up to his room and put him in bed

⇶ When he came back down stairs, he gently woke you up and offered you to stay since it was so late and he didn’t want you driving back home when you were so exhausted

⇶ You were telling him no, as you always do when he makes such offers, but it was hard to keep up your argument between yawns and going in and out of sleep

⇶ He led you upstairs to his room, where he let you shower and laid out clothes and toiletries for you

⇶ By the time you finished showering and got dressed, you were still tired, but more than awake enough to realize that you were in the main bedroom of the house

⇶ His bedroom.

“Satoru,” you called out as you emerged from the bathroom, steam rolling out from behind you.

You heard footsteps grow louder and louder until Satoru finally got to the room, cautiously opening the door.

“Y/n? Did you call for me? Is everything okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Why’d you put me in this room?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you gestured to the large room.

“What? You don’t like it?” Satoru mused. “The guest rooms are kinda bare, didn’t want you staying in there.”

You kissed your teeth. The gesture was sweet, but you found yourself oddly annoyed at the fact that he so casually disregarded himself.

“And you’re sleeping in the guest room instead of your own room? In your own house?” Satoru shrugged, causing you to sigh. “We’re swapping.”

He gave you a puzzled, yet amused, look. Satoru didn’t expect this type of reaction from you, but he supposed that this type of attitude came from taking care of others for a living.

“Mm, not happening,” he chuckled, making you kiss your teeth again.

“Then we can share.”

Satoru was taken aback. You were just full of surprises, weren’t you?

“Will that get you to stop pouting, baby?” He teased in a mocking baby voice, face inches from yours.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled, so he took it as a yes, kissing your cheek.

“S’good you made me come back here anyways, I forgot my toothbrush,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Realizing you need to brush your teeth as well, you followed behind the tall man.

You unboxed the spare toothbrush he gave to you, applied the toothpaste, and began brushing your teeth along side Satoru.

Looking at him through the mirror, you were able to fully observe him.

His hair was slightly wet from him shower, with a few pieces clinging to his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and you could see just how long his powdery white lashes really were. To top it off, he had no shirt on with grey sweatpants hanging low on his waist.

You were mesmerized. You couldn’t even believe one man could look so good, you felt like you were staring at a marble statue.

Completely entranced, you didn’t even realize you were gawking at him until toothpaste began dripping down your chin and onto his shirt. Satoru stifled a laugh, leaning down to spit into the sink.

“See somethin’ you like?” He snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you spat into the sink and wiped off your chin.

After finishing up in the bathroom, you both finally crawled into bed together.

“Good night,” Satoru chimed, reaching over to turn off his bedside lamp.

“Night.”

⇶ Despite being so tired, neither of you could sleep due to how nervous the presence of the other made you feel

⇶ You both silently tossed and turned before you ended up facing each other

⇶ The room had no lights, except for a window that directly faced the moon, allowing for enough illumination to make out the outline of each others faces

⇶ Satoru silently looked all over your face, almost like he was trying to engrave your features into his memories

⇶ Suddenly you felt something cold touch your leg, making you jump and jerk your foot away

⇶ You heard Satoru laugh, smushing his face into his pillow

“My feet are cold,” he pouted.

“Mine too.”

⇶ You put your own foot against his leg, and he immediately hissed and pulled back from you

⇶ You laughed at him, but were interrupted when he suddenly grabbed hold of your extended leg, pulling your towards him

⇶ You gasped at the action, and he gently placed your leg over his body, then wrapped his toned arms around you

“I’m really cold.” He whispered, minty breath fanning against your face.

⇶ Pressing yourself against his bare chest and snaking your arms around him, he was cold to the touch

⇶ You gave him a gentle kiss, already feeling him warm up as you both fell asleep

⇶ That morning, you were woken up by Satoru stirring and the sound of little slapping noises

⇶ Megumi had woken up before the both of you, and was now waking up Satoru by clobbering him with tiny fists as he repeated ‘I’m hungry’ over and over

⇶ Satoru let out a dragged out groan, making the boy hit him even harder, but not at all fazing the man

⇶ Eventually, he did get up, taking Megumi downstairs over his shoulder

“What d’you want for breakfast Gumi?”

“Pancakes,” Megumi huffed, hauling himself onto the chair.

“Pancakes it is,” Satoru complied, taking out the box mix from the pantry, and quickly scanning over the ingredients list before grabbing what he needed.

Megumi was silent for a majority of the time, still in the process of waking up as his kept his cheek against the cool marble counter.

He was never a morning person, but he was still much too quiet. Satoru knew him better than anyone, and knew that he had something on his mind.

“What’re you thinking about?” Satoru asked, pouring batter into the buttered pan.

Megumi raised his head up, brow’s knitted together and eyes narrowed in deep thought. He stayed quiet for awhile, hesitant to speak his mind.

“Is Ms. L/n my mom yet?”

Satoru wasn’t fully surprised by the question, but the tone of Megumi’s voice sent a pant through his chest. Megumi wasn’t at all a needy or spoiled child, and he rarely ever asked for much. But Satoru could tell this was something he wanted deeply.

Even though he took care of Megumi like a father would, he made a point from the start to at least let him know he was adopted, but was loved like blood. Satoru couldn’t imagine the flurry of emotions the young boy must feel finally having a mother figure, and not just a woman that came and went like Satoru’s previous affairs.

“Is that what you want?” Satoru asked him, flipping the pancake over. Truthfully, his answer could make or break where his relationship with you would go.

On top of him not being needy, Megumi wasn’t an emotional child. He hardly cried or even threw tantrums. The most emotion he’d show, other than being happy, were nervousness and frustration.

“Is that what you want?” Megumi shrugged, slumping back in his seat, avoiding eye contact.

He could be such a mini adult, never fully allowing himself to be taken care of like a child should. That’s a big reason Satoru thought you’d be so good for Megumi, you brought the kid out of him and nurtured him in ways that Satoru simply couldn’t.

Transferring the pancake from the stove to a plate, Satoru slid Megumi his breakfast. He hummed as he did so, still waiting for a proper answer and not a repeat of his question.

“Yes…” Megumi mumbled, taking the plate and grabbing the syrup bottle.

“Yes, what?” Satoru pushed, making the boy glare at him with dark eyes.

“Yes, that’s what I want,” He snapped, cheeks growing pink and slamming the syrup bottle back down.

“Me too, Megs.”

⇶ Just a minute later, you came into the kitchen, gently rubbing Megumi’s head as you walked by him, and kissing Satoru’s cheek while wrapping your arms around his waist

⇶ You apologized for not coming down with them, and said that you were really tired a just needed a few extra minutes

⇶ Satoru assured you it was fine and told you to eat, having already set aside a plate of food for you

⇶ He joined you and Megumi shortly after, and you all ate while telling one another about the dreams you had last night

⇶ All of a sudden, Satoru perked up, remembering something

⇶ He told Megumi to go get “the drawing�� from his room to show it to you

⇶ Megumi looked puzzled, cheeks stuffed with pancakes as he looked up, attempting to remember

⇶ When he finally did, he let out a growl and gave a look that could kill to Satoru who simply laughed

⇶ He bartered with him, saying he could have another pancake if showed it to me

⇶ You watched the ordeal in amusement, and after giving it some thought, Megumi begrudgingly climbed down from his chair, going to his room while grumbling under his breath

⇶ After a minute, Megumi came back down, still looking annoyed but with a mixture of embarrassment this time

⇶ The paper was hidden behind his back, and he made you promise to not make fun of him if he showed you

⇶ After a verbal promise and a pinky link later, Megumi handed over the paper, flipped over as he mouthed ‘you’re annoying’ to Satoru, you only snickered at him

⇶ Flipping the paper over, the picture on it made your heart melt

⇶ There was a dandelion yellow sun in the corner, light green grass with a few multicolored flowers

⇶ But what caught your attention was the three stick figures on the page

⇶ The tallest was on the far left, outlined hair sticking up to represent white locks of hair, labeled ‘Dad’

⇶ The smallest was in the middle, scribbles of black crayon to show black hair, labeled ‘Me’

⇶ And the last, mid sized one, had your hair color, sloppily drawn into your usual styled, labeled ‘Mom’

—

Taglist: @goldenglow149 @whats-humanity-lol @pinksilk @gender-queery @dcvilxswish @roaringlion @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @kazuminari + @ryry-rebel

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