#but i understand what other fans are saying i mean

[withbriefthanksgiving]

Text ID: screenshots of tumblr tags from various tumblr users that say the following:

to understand the sociopolitical and linguistic landscape of equestria one must understand that ponies are crazy racist

comment above is correct, ponies so racist they had racism monsters that caused winter, well you know what I mean

there is an episode in season 1 where the gang racially profiles a zebra, pinkie even sings a song about it

pony racism is like the plot of half the episodes in this show

oh so the one who had an entire episode about stealing land from the native people is going to talk about how pony racism is bad??? you have no place in this discussion after everything that happened with the buffalo, applejack.

remember when people were upset at the g5 movie be they "made the ponies racist" and said they would boycott it and keep being g4 fans bc they dont want to deal with racist ponies

there is a long list of races even the mane 6 have been awful to, and it is insane to me that they just never learn. it is the one lesson they never truly learn. even when theyre trying to be accepting of other races they come off as awful !!! see: the episode where yona tries to share her traditions only to be forced to act like a pony instead

they start sending out missionaries to teach all the other species superior pony values

In a later season Twilight tries to make a school that integrates non-pony races. And she has to catch herself when she says "Everypony" She has to make it a non-accredited school because the school board in Equestria doesn't want non-ponies learning their secrets. This sounds like a lie on the internet but that's literally what happens

/end of ID.

i'm gonna be honest i don't get why they say everypony instead of everybody in mlp. it's not like the word everybody is human-specific. the ponies have bodies. the word everypony, however, is pony-specific in a world where ponies are not the only people in their society, which means it would be more accurate and inclusive to use everybody instead of everypony. it all makes no sense to me

[specialgradefckr]

nerd!gojo is so cute! please give him a kiss on the cheek for me.

you stare at the note you found in your locker. it's written in glittery purple ink, which only adds to the insult.

gojo, "cute"??? give him a kiss on the cheek???

like an ill omen summoned by its name, a terrible presence looms over your shoulder, "watcha got there?"

"hate mail." you say dispassionately as you quickly shove gojo away.

when you face him, you see gojo's face change - smooth features and rounded eyes hardening into anger.

"hate mail?" gojo frowns, "in your locker? who would send that?!"

"you want a list?" comes geto's snarky voice. "she's kind of a bitch."

you shoot him a glare, but gojo speaks before you can.

"don't talk about her like that."

the room feels a little bit colder. since when did gojo sound so... mean?

"i'm just saying," geto says, shrugging, "you'd know better than anyone, she's always on your ass."

"yeah, my ass," gojo turns to you, a pout on his face, "you're not bullying other people, are you? i don't have any other bullies."

only satoru gojo could get into an argument this stupid.

"no," you drone, "your drain on my time and attention is uncontested."

rather than being ashamed of this, gojo looks absolutely tickled.

even when you punch him in the shoulder, his good mood is undampened.

"nerd," you grouse, stalking off to your next class, which gojo naturally follows.

it sucked being in the same classes as him, but at least it meant you could get his help. he really is a huge nerd. all those hours you put into it, and he seems to understand everything effortlessly.

the class feels like it takes hours. you pay diligent attention, take so many notes, and somehow, gojo comes out of it completely chipper.

you're left in peace for a few blessed minutes afterwards as he bolts out of the room for some reason or another.

is he finally starting to fear you as his bully? took him long enough -

"here!" pressed into your hands, your favorite snack from the campus vending machine.

gojo smiles at you, that big, boyish smile that makes him look extra stupid. "sorry i messed up last time."

you don't know what comes over you. maybe it's pure delirium brought on by hunger. or the joy from having something nice to eat.

maybe it's a new form of torture, humiliating him by making him endure a kiss from his bully.

it's just a kiss on the cheek. it's whatever.

he stands there, still, face completely red, blue eyes wide in shock. gojo looks even dumber than usual, which shouldn't even be possible.

you fan your face for a moment as you turn to leave.

"come on, you idiot. we've got a test to study for."

gojo whistles some unbelievably stupid tune, practically skipping the whole way to the library.

"i can't believe it! she kissed me on the cheek!!! a real kiss!" "uh-huh." "don't uh-huh me, suguru, it was REAL! anyways, it all makes sense now. she was just hangry. no wonder she shoved me into a locker. it's my fault for not taking better care of her..." "would you listen to me if i reminded you that you're not dating and this is all pure delusion?" "not dating yet." "so a no, then," suguru says, rolling his eyes as he returns to his work. satoru's already finished with the homework and scrolling through his text message history with you, no doubt spamming you again with memes or pictures or just remarks. but you haven't blocked him yet, have you? suguru smiles to himself, closing his notebook, tucking away a shimmering violet pen.

[kunareads]

how you talk so sweet when you're doing bad things

actor!satoru x popstar!reader

you and satoru fulfill the prophecy (he picks you up, pulls them down, turns you around).

prev / next

series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 4.7k

satoru "filthy mouth" gojo!!! i had to stop writing this multiple times because of what he does to me. PART 3 VALENTINE'S DAY (comment for taglist)

content: fluff and SMUT! even more tension, you and satoru are once again the subjects of internet speculation, making out, 69, oral (m! and f! receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, pronebone, cowgirl, he's very much in control here

18+ please i block children <3

+++

the internet does what it does best: fill in the blanks.

neither of you say anything. no statements, no denials, no acknowledgments. but speculation spreads like wildfire.

it started small. the blurry afterparty photos, the red carpet chemistry dissection, the think pieces about hollywood's most unexpected flirtation. the usual.

then you post an instagram story.

nothing special. just a close-up of a wine glass, city lights blurred in the background. no context, no caption. but the fans? they think they know.

twitter erupts.

@/satorumess: not to be crazy but i mapped out their locations based on timestamps and—

@/fulltimeshipper: this is worse than when the CIA redacted half that UFO document

@/ynupdates: y/n posting a cryptic story the same night satoru is spotted downtown… oh we are in the trenches forreal

then, satoru likes a tiktok.

a slow-motion edit of you in your red carpet and afterparty looks, set to some dramatic song, captioned this woman is dangerous, your honor.

he doesn't comment, doesn't follow the account. just leaves one single like. and the internet implodes.

@/fandomedits: nah this isn't pr this is a man down BAD

@/popcultupdates: GOJO SATORU LIKING THIRST EDITS IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT WE HAVE LOST HIM COMPLETELY

@/ynstan: this man saw a slo-mo thirst edit and said "yeah let me cosign that"

but it gets worse.

an old clip resurfaces. a red carpet from last year. you and satoru, near each other but never interacting. a moment that meant nothing—until now.

fans slow it down, zoom in, analyze every tiny detail:

satoru steps onto the carpet, and your eyes flick toward him, barely noticeable.

he glances in your direction.

there's a beat where he exhales, seems to collect himself—something no one caught before.

and suddenly, it's evidence.

@/fathergojo: why do their interactions feel like deleted scenes from a romcom

@/yninvestigator: guys. GUYS. what do you MEAN she looked at him FIRST. what do you MEAN HE TOOK A BREATH AND LOOKED AWAY.

@/stanwars: suddenly i believe in fate. suddenly i understand greek tragedies.

apparently, none of this is new.

you and satoru are just catching up.

+++

+++

satoru isn't good at waiting.

patience isn't exactly his strong suit, but when the reward is this good? he doesn't mind.

you walk in like the last week never happened. like the chaos never even registered.

the rooftop lighting catches the silk of your dress, the shine of your jewelry, the sheen of your lips. it makes you look untouchable.

attention follows you effortlessly. heads turn, backs straighten. someone says something, you smile—polite, charming, distant. you're impossible not to watch.

and satoru watches.

he's become acquainted with the effect you have, but it hits harder tonight than it did a week ago.

because now he knows how you taste.

the glass in his hand is cool, condensation falling between his fingers. he takes a sip, tracking you, cataloging details no one else would catch.

the way your shoulders shift, subtle, as you get closer.

the flick of your gaze toward him before you fully reach him.

you stop beside him, close enough for the scent of your perfume to settle between you.

a pause before you meet his eyes.

"so… how's your week been?" you ask, tone light, a smile gracing your features.

satoru exhales a laugh, tipping his glass like a toast. "surprisingly quiet. you?"

as you talk, your fingers trace the rim of your glass. he watches. you let him.

he leans in when he speaks. you don't move away.

he notices the way the waiter lingers, the way you dismiss it with a polite, distant smile.

you notice the way his expression shifts at that, just slightly. neither of you acknowledge it.

"you're kind of a nightmare," you tease.

satoru grins, unbothered. "funny. some people call me a dream."

you laugh and roll your eyes at him. he takes his time with his next sip, letting the tension settle. you're watching him watch you.

it would be easy to let you play this game, to see how long you can act like you're not as impatient as he is. but he leans in, voice quiet, just for you.

"you gonna make me wait?" low, taunting.

you could, but you don't. instead, you lean in too, meeting him halfway. you set your glass down carefully. he mirrors you.

someone—a bartender, another guest—tries to pull you into conversation, but you don't reply.

you lean into him, your voice calm but sure.

"let's go."

+++

streetlights skim over sleek black paint as the car pulls up, satoru swinging the door open. you barely take a step before his hand finds the small of your back, fingers pressing just enough to guide you.

he grins lazily. "last chance."

you roll your eyes as you step in. "so dramatic."

he closes the door after you and circles the car, the driver pulling off.

the backseat feels too small.

you cross your legs. his knee brushes against yours, and he doesn't move away. his hand rests on his thigh, relaxed, too close to yours. deliberate.

you pretend not to notice, but he knows better.

the silence is louder than words. the city blurs past the tinted windows, neon bleeding into the dark. the hum of the engine, the distant murmur of traffic, the faint pulse of something unsaid.

satoru exhales slowly, gliding his tongue over his teeth, thinking. he pushes a button, the partition rising.

you're both quiet, but it's a silent signal: stop pretending.

the second it clicks into place, he moves. or maybe you do. it doesn't matter. he's closer now, facing you, and you're already leaning in.

a beat. a sharp inhale.

his fingers skim your thigh, higher this time.

"i was trying to be good," you say quietly.

his voice drops, tight with restraint, and your breath catches. "don't."

the second the word leaves his lips, you're on him. a hand finds the back of his neck, drawing him in.

the first kiss is slow, but not reluctant. he drags it out because he can. he tilts his head, deepening it. he hums against your lips when you press closer, pleased.

his fingers tease higher. yours twist into his hair, nails scraping just enough to make him sigh into your mouth.

the car rolls to a stop.

neither of you move. not right away.

satoru's grip tightens, like he's considering pulling you onto his lap. like he could keep you here a little longer, let the city blur beyond the tinted glass while he takes his time.

instead, he drags his lips down your jaw, then lower. he breathes you in before murmuring, "upstairs."

+++

the door clicks shut, sealing you in. no music, no distant hum of the city, just quiet, dense and charged.

neither of you break the silence.

satoru steps in first. the air seems to crackle around him here the same way it does everywhere else.

you hold his stare, challenging. he waits.

a test. a game.

then, finally, you reach for him. his grin is lazy, knowing. like he was waiting for you to break first.

this kiss is purposeful. his lips brush yours—once, then again. a silent question, just the slow press of his mouth, the barely-there slide of his hands down your waist.

your fingers slip under his shirt, nails grazing skin, just enough to pull a slow, amused breath from him.

his hands find your hips, insistent, pulling you in until there's no space left. the shift makes you gasp into his mouth, and he drinks it in, looking smug, like he expected it.

like he's been waiting for this all week.

his grip tenses, like he's about to pull you closer—but then he's gone. his heat vanishes, his lips just a ghost of pressure before they disappear completely.

he barely moves when you chase him a bit, just tilts his chin, smiling. like he knew you wouldn't let him go. like he was counting on it.

you inhale, frustration sparking low in your chest, and you move before you think. your hands find his shirt, tugging him back in—but before you can, his fingers close around your wrists, catching you with ease.

his grin is knowing, his grip firm but teasing. he tilts his head, amusement spreading across his face.

"easy, princess," he murmurs, voice low, eyes flicking to your lips. "what's the rush?"

you arch a brow, fingers flexing in his grasp. "you did haul me out of the car."

his grin widens. "not like you put up a fight."

you push.

you press into him, backing him towards the wall. he lets you. lets you kiss him deeper, hands still wrapped around your wrists but relaxing, giving you room to move.

for a second, you think you've won.

then the world tilts and your back meets the wall with a gentle thud, your head tipping back slightly as he crowds you.

he smiles at you, eyes sparkling, enjoying himself too much. his hands settle at your waist, keeping you where he wants you.

you should be annoyed. instead, you match him and smirk right back.

you like the way he handles you.

+++

his touch is maddening.

his fingertips skate over your ribs, your stomach, but never where you need them. it's intentional and exploratory, like he has all the time in the world.

and he does. his apartment is a sanctuary from the mess of the last week. no prying eyes or a disgruntled kento to interrupt here.

you shift, trying to lead him downward, but he only chuckles, barely making a sound.

"you can be patient for me, can't you?" his voice dips lower, "or are you already too far gone?"

he's mocking you, and reflex kicks in—your thighs squeeze together, and you feel the heat creep up your neck when he notices.

his fingers ghost up your inner thighs, teasing warmth into your skin before retreating. every near-touch is calculated, just enough to remind you of how easily he could give you what you want.

he watches as impatience builds in your expression, as your breath stutters when his hands graze your waist again.

your nails press into his shoulders, a silent dare. before he can smirk, before he can gloat, you roll your hips against him, slow, deliberate. the response is immediate.

his breath falters, a groan through gritted teeth. his jaw tightens like he wasn't expecting you to test him. for a split second, he stills entirely.

you smile at him. message received.

"if you wanna ruin me, do it right, satoru." a taunt disguised as a whisper, just enough to chip at his restraint.

his hold turns bruising, like he wants to leave something behind. the teasing tone vanishes, his smirk dissolving into something darker. your breath catches—not in surprise, but excitement as something kindles in your stomach.

because suddenly, it's not a game anymore.

the realization barely registers before he has you pinned, wrists above your head, mouth at your ear.

"hope you know what you're asking for," he murmurs, hips flush against yours. his voice is different now—rough, heat twisting through every syllable. you shudder at the sound, your body responding. he makes good on his words immediately.

his hands find the backs of your thighs—then, suddenly, you're weightless, gasping, clutching at his shoulders. your legs draw around his hips, heat pooling fast.

a startled breath leaves you, but he's already moving, carrying you across the room like you weigh nothing at all.

+++

he drops you onto his bed, grinning at the glare you send him when you bounce.

you don't even get the chance to scold—his hands are already on you, pulling your panties down.

his teeth graze your inner thigh before he bites down, sharp enough to make you whine, hips squirming. he exhales with a smile. "thought so." his tongue follows—slow, indulgent, a promise to ruin you.

you've barely found your breath when he shifts, broad hands pressing into your thighs, spreading you open. his gaze lifts, dark and teasing.

"comfortable?" he asks, lips skimming the inside of your knee.

you roll your eyes, about to retort—but your fingers curl into the sheets instead when his mouth finds your core, hot and devastating.

your hips shift, back arching, and he hums against you, content.

you move the moment he adjusts—quick, decisive, hands pushing into his shoulders. he lets you shift the balance, rolling onto his back, breath catching when he opens his eyes to find you above him.

your fingers work fast, tugging at his belt, yanking it free with a sharp pull. you work on the button, the zipper, pulling the fabric down just enough to free him.

he was so fucking cocky a second ago. now, he's not even breathing right, body taut under your hands. so you stroke once, then twice, then take him into your mouth.

no warning, no reluctance.

his grip tightens on your thigh, breath punching out like you knocked it loose. his head tilts back, jaw tensing, a soft "fuck—just like that, baby" escaping him.

you hum around him, pleased, tongue teasing, and he swears again under his breath. his hands fist into the sheets, trying to ground himself.

but satoru doesn't like being outmatched.

his fingers skate up your thigh, squeezing. and then his mouth is on you, tongue dragging through your folds, slow and deep.

you gasp against him, body tensing, and he grins.

"that's better," he mutters against you, lips brushing sensitive skin before his tongue circles once, twice.

the sound you make is muffled around him, and he groans in response, the vibration rolling through you both.

you try to keep a rhythm, fingers curling at the base as you sink down, but every time his tongue moves just right, every time he sucks at your clit, you falter.

he notices, and he loves it.

his hands tighten on your hips, keeping you still as he buries his face deeper, determined, fucking into you with his tongue, sending you to the edge without mercy.

you try to keep going, try to keep your lips wrapped around him, but every nerve in your body is on fire, pressure winding as you moan around him.

he grins against you. "that's it, princess. lemme hear it."

his fingers dig into your skin, tightening as he licks into you with purpose, drawing desperate sounds from your throat.

it's too much. you pull your mouth off of him, panting, lips slick and hips twitching against his face as the bliss hits all at once, unraveling you from the inside out.

"satoru, fuck," you gasp, the words nearly unintelligible through your moans. you can't do anything but let it consume you, your body seizing before the release finally drives through you.

you gasp, sharp and unsteady, his name tumbling past your lips again, voice cracking into a whine.

satoru doesn't stop until you're shaking, your legs weak, pleasure rolling over you in dizzying, tormenting waves.

only when your thighs twitch, too sensitive, does he finally pull away. his face is wet, and he's breathless. he presses one last kiss to the inside of your thigh before looking up at you, eyes dark and lazy.

"you're fucking perfect," he murmurs, voice hoarse, before flipping you onto your stomach, pressing you into the mattress.

+++

you're still coming down when he lifts your hips, tucking a pillow underneath them.

his breath is warm against your shoulder, steady and grounding. his lips trail down your spine, flirting, savoring the way you squirm. a hand settles on your hip possessively, making sure you don't slip away.

his other hand trails lower, sliding between your legs, fingers pressing in—gradually, unhurried, teasing the mess he left behind.

"fuck, baby—you're dripping for me." his voice is all rough edges and satisfaction, murmured against your ear. you shiver. his fingers slide through your folds, spreading your slick, teasing the spot he knows will make you gasp.

"been thinking about this all week," he mumbles, kissing the curve of your neck. his fingers dip lower, pushing inside, slow and deep. "bet you have, too."

you whimper, and he smirks against your skin.

"should've had you like this that night. should've fucked you right up against that wall."

his fingers move at an unbearable pace, curling, pressing into the spot that makes your knees weak. your hips jerk, but he holds you still.

"needy, huh?" his breath is burning against your ear, teasing, smug. "tell me how bad you want it, baby."

your fingers clutch the sheets, patience fraying. you should fight him— push back, make him work for it—but you're too far gone for games.

"satoru—"

his fingers stall. "mm, not good enough."

"want you," you gasp, growing desperate. "need you inside me."

he groans like you just hit him where it hurts. he pulls his hand away, leaving you empty for barely a second before the thick of him replaces them.

he slips the tip through your folds, slick and teasing, but doesn't push in. "this what you wanted?" he asks, rougher now.

"yes."

"say it again."

your breath stutters, but you give him what he wants. "yes. please," you gasp.

his hands flex against your hips, keeping you still as he pushes forward, stretching you open with an unrelenting drag that knocks the air from your lungs. it's almost too much—almost—but you want all of it. you take all of him.

he moves in slowly, and a shaky gasp escapes as he bottoms out, deep inside you, holding himself there, letting you feel it.

his breath is ragged now, his exhale hot against your skin. "fuck."

his hands slide up your sides, guiding you, holding you where he needs you.

"you feel so fucking good," he breathes, voice dipping into something ruined.

his hips roll, deep and slow, like he wants to feel everything. like he wants to make this last.

you think for a second that you won't survive at this pace.

satoru brings his body lower, pressing his chest flush against your back, all heat and tension, breath ghosting over your shoulder as he sinks in.

his arms slip under yours, palms spreading over your shoulders, drawing you into him. not just pulling you back, but owning the space between you.

hi thrusts are indulgent, stretching, coating himself in you. his breath is uneven, satisfaction humming in your ear.

you push your hips back into him, matching his rhythm.

satoru exhales a sharp breath, fingers digging in. "you trying to make me lose it?"

you don't answer, just push back harder on instinct.

his response is immediate—a sharp, precise thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, ripping a moan from your throat before you can swallow it down.

"thought so," he murmurs, lips grazing your shoulder.

his pace turns deep and steady—controlled, measured. he brings his face close to yours, wanting to watch you react, to feel you tighten around him with every movement.

but you're impatient. you shift, pressing up onto your elbows, angling your hips just enough to take him deeper.

his pace stutters. he swears under his breath, voice raw, and one arm locks around your waist. he holds you in place as he fucks into you now, hard enough to leave you trembling, helpless against the bed.

his name leaves your lips, breathless and desperate.

"fuck—it's so good," he groans, half-choked, messy. his face buries into your neck, hands gripping like he's holding on for dear life. "let me hear you, baby."

you can barely think, barely breathe. his hand slides between your legs, fingers finding that spot, pressing slow, teasing circles.

"satoru—"

he chuckles, low and smug, but there's an edge to it now, a tension in the way his hips stutter, his movements losing their precision.

and then you tighten around him, body seizing, pleasure cresting all at once—

"fuck," he bites out, breathless, grip tightening like he's trying to hold on.

and then—he pulls out.

a sharp inhale, the loss making you gasp, but before you can even form a thought—

he flips you over.

"not done with you yet," he mutters, voice rough, gaze dark as he hovers over you.

+++

and just like that, everything shifts.

his hands find you the second he pulls out—a sharp, dizzying shift as he flips you over, settling beneath you. his hands slide up your ribs, brush over your breasts, then slide back down.

his fingers splay wide on your hips, steadying you, but it's his gaze that pins you in place. "wanna see you like this," he murmurs, voice low, still rough from before.

your lips part, but the way he looks at you makes it hard to tease. instead, your nails drag down his chest, unhurried, feeling his abs tense beneath your touch.

"yeah?" you breathe.

his fingers flex, tightening just slightly. "yeah, baby. show me how bad you want it."

you wrap your fingers around him, stroking once, slow and teasing, just to watch him squirm.

his jaw clenches, but he doesn't push. he lets you take your time, lets you set the pace, struggling to hold back.

you don't make him wait long.

you line him up and sink down, savoring the stretch—the way he exhales, sharp and shaky, fingers digging in.

"fuck," he breathes, watching you, eyes dark, half-lidded, all heat.

one of your hands finds his shoulders, nails scraping lightly as you start to move. the other moves down to where you're connected, feeling just how far he spreads you open.

at first, it's slow—like you're figuring each other out all over again. a careful roll of your hips, tension simmering, teasing at something deeper.

but it doesn't last.

his grip firms, guiding you down, matching your rhythm. he thrusts up to meet you with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs.

"you feel me, princess?" he asks, pulling you down harder, deeper.

you answer him with a desperate little whimper that makes him melt.

both of your movements are messy, desperate—like you both know exactly where this is going and you need to get there.

your fingers tangle in his hair, nails scraping, tugging just slightly, and he hisses, eyes squeezing shut for a second.

his hands slide up your spine, pulling you closer, his forehead pressing to yours, breathing hard.

"you feel so fucking good," he murmurs, almost a whine. "so wet for me, so fucking perfect."

you can't even speak. your thoughts blur, pleasure winding tight, breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

he shifts beneath you, angling deeper, hitting exactly where you need him. the sudden jolt of pleasure makes your whole body tighten, makes you let out a sound you didn't mean to make—

a loud, broken moan, breathy, helpless.

his head snaps up, eyes wild, something cracking behind them—like he just lost his last thread of control.

"oh," his breath shudders, grip tightening. "oh."

and then he's gone.

he snaps his hips into yours, his hands gripping, guiding, setting a pace that's relentless, that has you gasping, nails biting into his shoulders.

your vision goes hazy, body tightening, winding up unbearably fast. you try to tell him you're close, but all that comes out is a shaky, broken "satoru—"

"oh, fuck—there it is," he breathes, voice dropping, eyes dark and triumphant. "knew you'd sound so fucking sweet falling apart for me."

his hand finds your clit, pressing just right—teeth gritting as he holds on, watching you break first.

and you shatter.

it slams into you, sharp and consuming, a shockwave rolling through your body. your breath stutters, a broken gasp stumbling free as you tighten around him, locking him in.

he feels it—the way you pulse around him, the way you tremble, how your moans dissolve into something helpless. it undoes him. his arm slides your waist, his other hand finding the back of your neck, and he pulls you closer like he needs you.

he curses as you tremble against him, holding you close, burying himself deep in you as he falls apart.

your name leaves his lips like a prayer, breathless, reverent. he groans against your skin as he finally spills into you. pleasure crashes through him, and for a moment, all he can do is feel **the heat of you, the way you throb around him, the way your body takes him like you were made for this.

for a second, you both stay still; the only sound between you is the sharp, uneven puff of breath.

your hands shake against his chest. his fingers are still locked around your waist.

he exhales a wrecked laugh, warm and lazy against your temple.

"so fucking worth the wait," he murmurs, voice low, sated. he kisses all over your face, palm smoothing down your spine. "knew you'd be perfect for me."

+++

the morning light spills through the curtains, golden and soft, warming tangled sheets and bare skin. everything is still. quiet, but not empty. satoru is warm against you, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. at some point in the night, your leg found its way between his, one of his arms draped lazily over your waist.

you shift, stretching slightly, and his fingers flex at your hip, like some part of him refuses to let you go.

he murmurs something unintelligible, voice low and drowsy. then, with a slow, easy smile against your skin, "stay."

you huff a quiet laugh. "clingy."

"mmm," he hums, voice is thick with sleep. "you're warm."

he still hasn't opened his eyes. he just shifts a little, nestling deeper into you. his fingers pressing idly into your hip, like he's memorizing the shape of you beneath them.

you stay like that for a while.

you steal a button-up from his closet when you finally get up, slipping it over your shoulders before following him into the bathroom. he doesn't comment, just flicks his gaze over you, lips twitching, before rummaging through a drawer. a moment later, he presses a spare toothbrush into your palm.

"definitely took you for the clingy type."

he grins, stretching lazily against the counter. "not my fault you're so soft."

you brush your teeth side by side, bleary-eyed in the mirror. he stands just a little too close, bumping into your arm like he can't help himself.

and when you head back to bed, he follows, catching your wrist just before you climb in, guiding you back under the covers with ease.

"wait." his lips brush your shoulder. "just stay there."

"i am staying," you point out, amused.

"good," he hums, pressing one last kiss to your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

satoru returns minutes later, two mugs in hand. he sets yours on the nightstand before wordlessly disappearing back to the kitchen.

you wait until you smell breakfast, then you get up and follow the scent out to his kitchen island.

he doesn't ask if you're hungry. he just plates your food and sets it in front of you without a second thought.

you steal sips from his juice between bites, and he lets you, just watching, amused, eyes flicking toward you over the rim of his glass.

soft touches happen naturally, thoughtlessly.

his palm finds the small of your back when he moves past you, warm and steady.

your fingers brush when you both reach for the same thing.

his knuckles graze your thigh when he leans back against the counter.

none of it feels unfamiliar.

you stay longer than you expected to. he doesn't call you out on it.

the goodbye is unserious, drawn out in a way that makes it obvious neither of you is in a rush.

"try not to miss me too much," you tease, pulling on your shoes with a grin.

he smiles, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. "oh, i will."

his tone is playful, but something about the way he says them makes you hesitate, just for a second.

and as you step out, just before it closes behind you, he calls after you.

"i'll be thinking about you, y'know."

tags (ongoing): @moonchhu @httpstoyosi @lavnder311 @harryzcherry @perkypeony @katecupcakekate @hellicify @oh-my-god-donald @jupiterbinnie @i88b0nten @satxoru @chuuminn @moncher-ire @r0ckst4rjk @flwerie @raendarkfaerie @pinksdump @blkmystery @pearlessance @satoruxsc

[overadores]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ who am i really?

"I'm a goddess on stage"

pairing.ᐟ sophia laforteza x reader

about.ᐟ a goddess on stage that lost herself from her true form.

genre.ᐟ angst

wc: 1009

"Human when we're alone"

Sophia stood alone in the grand dressing room, her reflection shimmering back at her from every gilded mirror. The golden lights illuminated the contours of her face, highlighting the perfect planes that the world adored. Her glittering gown hugged her curves like a second skin, her makeup a flawless masterpiece. She looked every bit the goddess her fans had christened her—the Sophia Laforteza, the international idol, the untouchable star who brought the world to its knees with her voice and her presence.

But the room felt unbearably empty, as if it were mocking her. She clutched the edge of the marble vanity, her knuckles white against the cold stone, and stared into her own eyes. Beneath the glitter and glamour, they were hollow.

She felt like a fraud.

A soft knock on the door broke her trance. “Soph?” your voice called from the other side.

Sophia froze, her heart seizing in her chest.

Y/N.

Her Y/N.

Taking a deep breath, Sophia turned to the door. “Come in.”

You stepped inside, your presence immediately filling the room with a warmth that clashed against Sophia’s growing sense of isolation. Y/N was dressed simply, a black turtleneck and jeans, her hair down. She was the opposite of Sophia’s glittering world, a grounding force that once made her feel like she could belong to something real.

But tonight, there was something different about the way Y/N held herself. Her brown eyes, usually so soft and open, were guarded, her arms crossed over her chest. Sophia felt the void between them widen, and she didn’t know how to bridge it.

“You were incredible tonight,” Y/N said, her voice quiet, almost hesitant. “You always are.”

Sophia tried to smile, but it wavered. “Thank you.”

An awkward silence stretched between them. Sophia’s stomach churned, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

“Y/N,” she began, her voice trembling. “What’s wrong?”

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, Sophia thought she might not answer, but then Y/N exhaled, the weight of her words escaping in a single breath.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Y/N said, her voice breaking.

The world tilted beneath Sophia’s feet. She reached out to steady herself on the vanity, her pulse roaring in her ears. “What are you saying?”

Y/N looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I love you, Sophia. I do, but I don’t think you love me the same way.”

“That’s not true!” Sophia cried, her voice sharp with desperation. She took a step toward Y/N, but the other woman held up a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Isn’t it?” Y/N said bitterly. “You’ve spent so much time being her—this perfect, unattainable goddess that the world worships and I...I think I fell in love with her, too, but that’s not who you are, is it?”

Sophia recoiled as if struck. “I...I don’t understand.”

“You’re different offstage,” you continued, your voice cracking.

“You’re quieter, more unsure of yourself. You’re vulnerable in a way that terrifies me because it makes me feel like I have to hold you together, but I don’t know how to love this version of you, Sophia. I’m sorry.”

The words hit Sophia like a physical blow. She stumbled back, her hands clutching at her gown as if it could protect her from the pain tearing through her chest.

“I’ve tried,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with tears. “I’ve tried to be enough for you, to love you for who you are when the lights go out, but I think I was always chasing the version of you I saw on stage and that’s not fair to either of us.”

Sophia shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that. Y/N, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always hiding from me?” Y/N asked, her voice raw. “Why do I feel like I’m only seeing pieces of you, like you’re afraid to let me see the whole picture?”

Sophia couldn’t answer.

She didn’t know how to explain the fear that had haunted her since the day they met—the fear that if Y/N saw all of her, the messy, imperfect person behind the goddess, she would leave and now, that fear was coming true.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said again, her voice breaking completely. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel like I’m losing myself trying to hold onto someone who doesn’t know how to be real with me.”

The words hung in the air like a death knell. Sophia’s knees buckled, and she sank onto the velvet stool in front of the vanity. Her reflection stared back at her, shattered and unrecognizable.

“Y/N, please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Don’t go. I’ll try harder. I’ll be better. Just…don’t leave me.” she begged, trying not to cry.

Y/N’s sob caught in her throat, and for a moment, Sophia thought she might relent. But then she shook her head, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“I think we both deserve more than trying to fix something that’s already broken,” Y/N said softly. “I’ll always love you, Sophia, but I need to love myself, too.”

With that, she turned and walked to the door. Sophia wanted to scream, to run after her, to beg her to stay, but she couldn’t move, her body frozen in the suffocating grip of her own despair.

The door clicked shut behind Y/N, and the silence that followed was deafening. Sophia sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of her grief pressing down on her until she could hardly breathe.

Finally, she looked back at her reflection, her tears blurring the glittering goddess into a ghost.

“Who are you?” she whispered to herself, her voice trembling.

For the first time, she had no answer.

a/n: i told y'all its not that angsty

[plunderbunny]

Always feels so weird to be saying this because he's the dumb League of Legends spaghetti and meatballs guy, but videogamedunkey had some of the best comments about I've ever heard this in his "Game Critics" video, in which he says the the power of a critic comes from the consistency of their voice, not in you personally agreeing with everything that they say. Understanding the critic's thought process, their likes and dislikes, what they value and what annoys them, whether any of it is even rational or not, is what gives their review utilitarian value in terms of "the critic has X opinion about this thing, does that make me think I would like it dislike it?"

Beyond the most basic "does their opinion make me think I'd like this thing or not" level, the other really important thing about a critic is to challenge the audience's way of thinking about a work and get them to open their mind, broaden their horizons, stretch their brain a bit and think in new ways and from new perspectives. A review should never just be "this is good" or "this is bad", it should include actual ANALYSIS. And whether or not someone likes something isn't analysis, it's one END RESULT OF analysis.

Why is comparing a game to a completely different game a bad thing? Why is engaging with the game in a different way than the developers intended a bad thing? Why is playing and reviewing a game for which you're not the target audience a bad thing? Those all just sound to me like new, novel, challenging perspectives from which to evaluate and think about a game.

And if you don't agree with the reviewer, if they don't like what you do like or vice versa... Why is that a bad thing? You can think they're wrong! Sometimes disagreeing with someone who has a different perspective can be the most enlightening and intellectually stimulating kind of conversation about a media object! My favorite pieces of media analysis of all time, the various works of Elizabeth Sandifer, especially Tardis Eruditorum and Last War in Albion, are FULL of ideas and perspectives and tastes that I disagree with, but they are all FASCINATING to read about and discuss and consider. Just because she is a fan of the Matt Smith era of Doctor Who, which I hate, doesn't mean that her thoughts and opinions on it are pointless or uninteresting.

Like art itself, art criticism shouldn't exist just to validate your preconceptions, or comfort you and give you ask the simplest, most obvious pleasures possible. It should challenge you, make you think, confront you... That's what makes it interesting, and what makes it valuable! Too many people have the notion that art should always be slavishly trying to satisfy a pre-existing audience with known appetites and easily-scratched itches. Too much art ends up complacent on account of catering to those audiences.

More game critics should be like the first picture in this post, actually challenging conventional thought (whether or not they like the game) and thinking critically and from a wide range of perspectives, potentially from ones outside the target audience. The video game community needs another "this game really makes you feel like Spider-Man" reviewer (to steal another great dunkey quote) like it needs a hole in its head, or the equivalent, yet another competitive hero shooter or souls-like or comfy farm sim.

Criticism doesn't exist to validate your personal tastes.

Art doesn't exist to satisfy your personal appetites.

game reviewers are weird

[kissboybyler]

it gets to me so much sometimes when i think that, in whichever fandom, the GA or just most people tend to ship two characters just because they are canon. Like mike and el, for instance, they are canon, they have kissing scenes and they dance at the ball and they…hug?! But what do they even talk about? What’s the music playing in the background? What’s the context of their interactions? Why, why do they love each other? Do they make each other better, do they find missing parts of themselves in the form of another person? Are there hints and tells and color-codes that just…exist to symbolise their love?

Why do we ship these characters? What’s is it about their love that is so strong? And don’t get me wrong, i also believe -like many other bylers/ fans of the show- that mike and el grew to love each other, to appreciate and kind of need each other. But not for the right reasons.

I mean, mike needs to be needed, to be able to help or even save another person, to feel loved and wanted. But he also needs to allow himself to be who he is, outside of “forced conformity” (“that’s what’s killing the kids” after all!)

El, on the other hand, needs to find who she is, but firstly she needs to have a safe place where she is allowed to kind of just exist and then blossom into her true self. And bumping into mike, who eventually grew to appreciate and embrace her, she felt safe for the first time. And alongside her, mike felt needed, like he could protect her and be there for her and make her happy.

But now el, who has established both meaningful familial relationships and friendships, needs to find out who she is. How can we expect her to grow when she’s in a relationship with the first person she met right after she broke out of the lab (her literal prison), who can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers?

And i’ve read many many other people write about this, about how in s4, when mike wasn’t with el he embraced his geeky, nerdy and weird self but when he finally reunited with el, he had to hide himself from her (as did she!). He just…couldn’t be himself around her.

But like, apart from the problems in their relationship, i really just don’t understand why people ship them. It’s just…mike cant be himself around el and el doesn’t have room to find herself when she’s with mike. It literally doesn’t make any mathematical sense.

And then they say we’re delusional for thinking, for proving, that there are astronomically higher chances for these two not to be endgame, for el to be single and for mike and will to get together. Because it makes sense…right? Like, el will be able to find herself outside of a relationship, she won’t be dictated by anyone but her own self, and mike and will… do i really have to elaborate? Like, in every single aspect of stranger things, from musical titles and colour-codes, parallels and loving, longing stares, hand touches, over-protectiveness, deep and meaningful understanding to posters and freaking funko-pops, interviews and good ol’ fashioned cinematography and storytelling… it all points to them, if you connect the dots.

And how, how is it possible that so many dots have been put into such perfect places, to make such a beautifully crafted imagery, just for all of this to be a coincidence? When, when has anything ever in stranger things been coincidental? Ever?

Edit: I’d just like to denote that, when i said “(mike) can’t even talk about any other part of her that he loves other than her powers” i didn’t mean that mike loves el JUST because she has powers, fuck no, BUT when the time was right for him to note all of the other aspects of her character that make her a remarkable person (ex. her selflessness, her compassion), he decided to focus on her powers. The very thing that she herself thought dictated her.

just wanted to make that super clear.

[iwasbored777]

This is kinda a ramble but while I understand some people don't like romance or Sonamy in the Sonic movies, I think it's really dumb to say that the movies will be bad because of it.

Because my immediate response is: pal, have you never watched Across the Spider-Verse and the masterfully written couple, Ghostflower? Hell, Sonamy can easily have that level of development because the secret to Miles and Gwen's relationship working so well in the movies is because it's an integral part of the narrative. That's it, that's the secret. And ATSV handled the family theme and several other characters well too. Sonic can too. So yes, saying that Sonamy will ruin the 4th movie is a big fallacy. The fault is never the type of couple but how well written it is.

Warning: Positive Sonamy content!

If this really becomes canon, I can't wait to see Sonic and Amy having a crush on each other. I'm so ready. I bet that Sonic will be HILARIOUS while trying to flirt, like, I already know that I'm gonna laugh a lot. I can't wait to see how his family will react too. Unlike some fans, I'm not worried if the writers will do Amy justice because these are Sonic The Hedgehog movie writers, for Christ's sake. They fleshed out their characters so well, even the original characters that weren't in the games.

I understand that there will be ship wars because many people ship Sonic with Shadow. It's ok to not like Sonamy if that's not your thing but if Sonamy really becomes canon I hope that Amy won't get hate for being with Sonic like Gwen is getting hate in Spiderverse fandom mostly because they ship other characters with Miles (since you've mentioned Spiderverse). And, while I don't like some things about how writers handled their relationship in Across The Spiderverse, Gwen and Miles are very much a proof that you can make a good story with a complicated romantic subplot (I mean, I was shipping them so hard that I was whining for months because they didn't become a couple in ATSV 😂). Spiderverse fandom has already pushed me away lately with how they're treating Gwen and I desperately hope that Sonic fandom won't be like that because this is my favourite fandom so far and I have a good feeling that I'll love Amy a lot. I doubt that Sonic and Amy will have such a complicated Gwiles type of a relationship with angst and all, but I think that they will be cute to watch.

Sonic movies have always been about found family and all kinds of love (romantic, platonic, parental and such). I don't see a problem with them continuing that tradition - actually, that's exactly what makes them so good and they proved that they can handle all these relationships well.

I know people are worried about the sudden change in the story if the main character gets a romantic subplot, but I think that it will be a very fun thing to see and like I said, we can trust the writers. Sonic is growing up and it's natural for him to start developing a crush. We should be thankful that they're not trying to give him a human girlfriend, like some other franchises do with non-human characters who are growing up with humans. That would be bizarre, honestly. Amy will totally be a good match for him.

[ieetbeez]

Small Rant About RE

Hello gang... This has been on my mind for awhile. Today we're talking about Resident Evil and particularly Leon stans. Now I'm gonna come out and say I am one of them! I love that silly little blonde man and he's like number 1 on my favorite capcom white boy tier list next to Cody from Final Fight/SF.

tw: mentions of rape, pedophilia, incest, abuse, and my opinion

Let me make it clear, I'm not kink shaming, I'm not advocating for censorship. Art and literature shouldn't be censored. Sex is cool. Kink is cool (when safe and consensual).

I'm gonna be one of those fans real quick and say, I've been an RE fan since I was like 7. That doesn't really mean much since I can't drink legally but I've been in love with Leon since elementary school. I watched my Dad and brother play RE6 co-op and man... Aka I've been in the fandom for a fat minute. Before the RE2 remake came out I'd see the occasional Dead Dove fic but that's whatever. But I have never seen this much dark romance about Leon of all people!

Like. Call it the T-Virus the way it's everywhere I swear I can't scroll down the damn tag without getting hit with a sexual crime. And let me say, I'm not new to fandom culture. I take don't like don't read to heart (I'm super picky LMAO). And I understand that, that's just how big fandoms are, more people, more bad eggs. I'm sure the majority of y'all are sweet people.

BUT I feel like I shouldn't have to say that romanticizing things like pedophilia, rape, abuse, and incest is disgusting in the big year 2025 but here we are. Honestly, I feel this way about a lot of the fics of other fandoms I'm in. I feel crazy seeing it everywhere and it makes me feel like some sort of sexual puritan. Am I insane for wanting freaky smut and not ...freaky smut??

There for sure is a bigger conversation here about how easily accessible porn is and how quick people to fall into these pipelines. Or how booktok caused a rise in the normalization of dark romance troupes and just pure porn writing (I still hate icebreaker). Or how quick form constant content is slowly leaking it's way into everything. But we’d be here for forever…

And like, it's just completely out of character?? Like if you're gonna write about that can it at least be in character? Wesker fits the dark romance thing LEAGUES better. But LEON?? THE POLICE OFFICER?? Did you even watch a walkthrough? Leon is a sweet upstanding guy with lots of trauma, that is the last thing he'd do to ANYONE! Not saying fics have to be completely accurate all the time but there's literally nothing fun about "Omg what if Leon RAPED you!?" HES NOT THE EVIL RESIDENT HERE GUYS! At some point it's not even about Leon (or whoever the fic is about) anymore, it's just someone wanting to share their sexual fantasies online.

These topics are almost never written with any care and are insanely insensitive to the survivors of these acts. I don't know, sexual crimes are literally some of the most deplorable acts of hatred and depravity someone can do onto another person. I can't imagine getting off to the suffering of others (in a heinous crime way not BDSM way) (BDSM is cool). Have some fucking empathy and stop thinking with your goon wad guys <3

Like at least take it to AO3 so that I can filter it out or smth...

Edit: I just woke up and remembered what else I was gonna say.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their fictional characters. Another thing I don’t like are the Gooner mods for the games. Like they’re fun every once in a while and like if it’s a capcom game you have to expect it. At some point though, it just stops being sexy and feels gross or uncomfortable.

Idk maybe I’m in the minority here but there has never been a single time where I was playing any RE game and thought to myself, “man… I wish I could see Leon’s end rod whipping in the wind rn…” Obviously, I wanna see that man oiled up butt booty naked doing jumping jacks like as most normal people do but… zawg…

That’s also like an actual person?? At least for the remakes. Maybe this just isn’t my dove to eat but the treat Leon like some sort doll. I know it’s kinda weak to be like this for a fictional person but yeah </3

[ambertrulife]

Valentine's merch of Hazbin Hotel

You know what I LOVE about this merch ?

First, they're all the pairing I love (Chaggie is so cute and, even if I understand it, don't make Huskerdust make sense. They're sign, but it's not eplicit.)

But secondly .. I'm a Radioapple fan, I think every one understand that.

But when you look at their merch, they're litteraly AT THE OPPOSITE. Look at they're position, they didn't fit like the other !

I mean, Lucifer show part of his body, Alastor not.

Lucifer change is outfit and make more heart, Alastor literraly just ajust some heart but don't change himself (like the other merch, you told me, and that why we love him so much ;) ).

But the more important : the sentence.

Lucifer say : "Miss you". He's talking to Lilith, because he's already in love or he in destress about it. He's GIVING love.

Alastor say : "Love yourself". He never (or more exactly, doesn't feel) really love in a romantic way for somemone. It's like he respond to the king directly. "Stop giving love and keep it for yourself."

And what does it confirm?

For me, it's mean that we're gonna MANY interaction between them in the show and they're going to be a war between to way to think. Not just Charlie, but everything.

And that make a potential nemesis to friend/or (and I'll loved it if it's happen, but Idon't think so) romance. And I want to live this moment.

Don't know if someone already told that, but hey ! I jute want to say it ! xD

[sophies-junkyard]

While he’s still trending, this is your sign to explore Kendrick’s discography. He’s so much bigger than this beef with Drake (and the “beef” is so much bigger than “he hates Drake!” but I’m hoping we all know that by now). Here’s some ideas on where to start:

The GNX album has incredible range . From hype tracks like “Tv off” to the introspection of “reincarnated”. It’s a 10/10 (literally). If you only have the energy for one album, this is a solid pick. It’s a good way to sample what he’s about and see where he’s heading.

After that… I mean for me it’s gotta be Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers. How do I even explain this? People who were surprised by “Meet The Grahams” had CLEARLY never heard “Mother I Sober”. This album will leave you staring at the void in stunned silence. It’ll make you feel empty inside but like… in an addicting way. It’s a masterpiece. If you’re intimidated by the number of songs, I would AT LEAST hear “United in Grief” and “mother I sober”. (Drake directly referenced “mother I sober” in his track “family matters”. He aimed low while ALSO misinterpreting the story like a fucking clown. Embarrassing af lol.)

2015-To Pimp a Butterfly. Depending on who you ask, this is Kendrick’s best work, and uh… yeah it’s hard to disagree. This is Kendrick in his element. A brutally honest examination of racism and violence wrapped in some of his most aggressive vocals to date (and I mean he LITERALLY uses so much growl on these tracks). But the MUSIC is…. chill? It’s also varied as hell. It’s an evening of slam poetry backed by smooth jazz. Then he’ll hit you with a slick guitar riff and some panicked breathing into the mic. The album is crucial to understanding Kendrick as an artist. Picking standouts on this one feels stupid (and everybody has a different opinion) but “Alright” and “King Kunta” are classics. “I”, “How much a dollar cost”, “you ain’t gotta lie”, “the blacker the berry”…. I’m just gonna end up listing every song. I’m also a fan of the“for free-interlude” lol. Oh and “Mortal Man”. I honestly don’t think there are any skippable tracks on this one. Just let it flow.

His 2017 album DAMN was a major success, and was how I got into Kendrick. If high school parking lots came with an OST, “HUMBLE” would’ve been our Green Hill Zone. Idk if that made any sense. Point is, it was popular as fuck. “DNA” was another huge hit. The album sounds edgy and hyped, but the lyrics are an invitation for the audience to like… choose his fate. It’s all about judgement day. Growth, reconciliation, criticism of fame. It’s a shame that it got reduced to “omg humble is a banger!!”. The fact that Uncle Sam shouted at Kendrick to “TIGHTEN UP!” And he performed HUMBLE in response... Damn.

2011- good kid, m.A.A.d city. “Money trees” is a classic with a super chill beat. And the metaphor of “planting money trees” has become a huge part of his identity. Representing his literal desire to share the wealth with his community, and his desire to stay true to his roots. It was ALSO something Drake dissed him for “failing” to do (though his record of philanthropy says otherwise). The titular songs “good kid” and “m.A.A.d city” are iconic. “Swimming Pools” is often cited as his first big hit. Side note: The album cover featured a van (I think it was a Chrysler?) that became a symbol of Kendrick’s career. and Drake fucking destroyed it in one of his music videos. Bitch.

There’s so much. He also has a series of 6 songs called “the heart” that usually drop before a new album. He has a ton of other albums that I didn’t even mention because this post is way too long. I know I skipped a lot of bangers so please let me know about them. Also this post 100% assumes everyone has heard “6:16 in LA”, “Euphoria”, “meet the grahams” and “not like us” because… I mean come on. Ok that’s all. happy listening!

[kuronanerd]

…cupid’s garden . ݁₊ ⊹

જ⁀➴ valentine’s special with Haru Hayate!

fluff, very slight angst, established relationship, slightly suggestive at the end if you squint, x f! reader.

a/n: this was a silly request from my bsf, so I hope she likes it. Also, I felt as if there needed to be MORE haru fics/appreciation. (All the 3 haru fans scream in joy.) But seriously, whoever sees this, enjoy, & feel free to request other characters.

The atmosphere in the air was thick and tense, almost suffocating. It was the kind which made the hairs on your neck stand up. Haru was standing across from you, a faint frown tugging at his lips as you stood in front of him, arms crossed, and a scowl adorning your features.

You had been holding everything back for weeks—the way he seemed to slip further away from you, always busy with practice, and too wrapped up in his career, leaving you waiting for whatever scraps of time he had left. Of course, you tried to be understanding, but no one likes being put aside and forgotten.

“You’re always so busy Haru.” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“I understand it’s your career, for gods sakes—it’s your livelihood! but I’m tired of being set aside to sit still and look pretty for you. I’m not asking for everything, I just want you to try and make time for me, please?”

The words stung as you verbalized them, they were like salt in the wound for Haru. The pain in your voice was evident, the hurt was clinging onto your words, despite your best efforts of trying to hide it.

Haru’s gaze fell to the floor. The space between you two grew further, the silence, heavier. He absolutely hated seeing you upset, and even worse, he hated being the cause of it. He knew you were right, he had been neglecting you for soccer, and the reality of it all, crushed him. There was no excuse, no alibi he could give you, just the painful truth that he had been absent, and it had hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” Haru finally muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His expression softened with guilt, as his shoulders only slumped in defeat.

Haru was never the best with words, especially when it came down to his feelings. But even so, he knew you deserved more than what his lame excuse for an apology could give you. His little gestures of affection wouldn’t be enough this time, he knew that. So he made it his mission to make it up to you, by any means necessary.

“it’s just hard balancing everything…but I’ll try harder. I’ll make more time, just for you. I promise.” He didn’t know what else to say, but he meant what he said. Haru’s heart ached with the disappointment he had for himself.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat becoming unbearable. You knew Haru meant what he said, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. It didn’t change how your bed, which was once fit for two, would only ever be occupied by one, how you would spend your nights eating at a dinner table alone, and how the empty space of it all, began to consume you. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but your frustration still hung in the air.

“That’s all I’m asking for Haru. I don’t want to compete with your career, since I know that’s a fight I’ll lose every time...”

The words left your lips, filled with raw and intense emotion, and it left a sour taste on your tongue. But there was nothing else that said from either of you, just the weight of your words echoing in Haru’s mind. His eyes watched as you walked out of the room, but he knew you needed space, he knew you needed to think, so he didn’t stop you. Instead, he began to think on how he could ever make it up to you. But would his efforts be enough? Could his actions ever fill the growing gap between you two?

—

In the days that followed, Haru found himself thinking of ways to make it up to you, and he managed to conjure up the perfect plan. Of course, It was all thanks to the small garden he had in the backyard of your home. It had always been his sanctuary, it was his place to unwind after his soccer practices, and now, it had turned into his master plan to win you over.

Haru’s love for gardening and all things botanical, was passed down to him from his grandfather. He would always share his life before the U-20’s and NEL with you. He’d tell you stories about the different kinds of plants he would tend to, his life on the farm, and how if he hadn’t gone down the path of soccer, he’d live his life dedicated to plants. He even once shared with you a dream, that if you both chose to have kids, he would also pass down his love for gardening to them, just like his grandfather did with him. That dream Haru shared with you always warmed your heart, since it gave you insight on the type of man he was.

So everyday, once Haru would get home, he’d greet you with a warm smile, obviously still giving you your space, but making an effort to shower you with as much affection as possible. He’d also find himself in the garden after hours, planting all sorts of surprises for you. His body would ache from practice and his intense stretching workouts, but it didn’t matter to him. The thought of making things right with you, pushed him forwards. He’d work quietly and deliberately, and with every pull of a weed, every stroke of his hand through the soil, his mind would wander back to you. He would think about the words you spoke to him that day, the way you pleaded with him to make an effort, to be present in your life. So he worked harder, not just in the garden but also in your relationship, making sure you finally had a bed fit for two.

Of course, this wasn’t easy for Haru. The demands of his career were constant, his schedule was always tight and unpredictable, not to mention, he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in days. But no matter how much his body protested, Haru couldn’t stop, you could say it was his way of rebelling against the things that caused him to stray so far away from you.

But whenever he did find himself at his wits end, he would think back on the times you would sit with him in the garden, your laughter filling the air, and the way you so perfectly complimented his flowers. He appreciated your warmth, your kindness, your patience. How you never asked him for anything expensive or extravagant, just his presence, a shared moment between you two.

And he wanted all of it back, no, he needed it back.

So as Valentine’s Day approached, Haru would finally and officially, apologize to you. He wasn’t the most romantic, not by a long shot, but he knew the things you loved, the things that mattered to you. The flowers he had planted for you with such care, over the past few weeks leading up to this day would finally become a symbol of his love towards you and his commitment to change.

The days continued to fly by, and Haru would continue to carefully select the flowers he knew you’d adore. He even made you a bouquet out of them, simple yet beautiful as ever—just like you. With every delicate petal he’d arrange, he also left meaning and love behind them, and he’d think you every step of the way.

—

When Valentine’s Day arrived, Haru was more than ready for you. Obviously, he was nervous. He didn’t know how you would react, or if this would be enough of an apology for you, but he knew he had to do it. So discreetly as ever, he went about his day, and you went about yours. ‘Both’ of you had gone to ‘work’, but little did you know, Haru had other plans. Instead, he made his way to the local corner store, and bought all types of decorations for your big surprise. It was simple really, all he did was buy the prettiest rose petals he could find, and heart shaped candles of course. Upon getting home, he immediately got to work, neatly placing them from the front door to the backyard.

He waited for you to get home, his anxiety gnawing at his confidence with every minute that passed. His heart was racing and he tried to calm his nerves, he wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, but for you, it was more than worth it. So when Haru heard the jingle of your keys, he quickly took in a deep breath, and without thinking, sprang off the couch. His fingers brushing delicately against the bouquet he had spent weeks crafting with his own hands.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed throughout the house, and Haru didn’t waste a single second. He carefully grabbed the bouquet and quickly moved to the backyard. The garden was bursting with color, and most of all, the symbol of love Haru had been working so hard on to show you. He paused for a moment, looking around at his creation, and everything was perfect.

You stepped through the front door, a tired sigh escaping your lips as the weight of the day had left you feeling drained. You placed your keys onto the entryway table, before you noticed the scattered petals on the floor. There was a trail of them and candles. It was something so simple yet beautiful. No way Haru did this, he was never the type to do some grand gesture like this. So your curiosity piqued, and you followed the path of the gorgeous trail.

You couldn’t help but smile softly, your gaze lifting to each one of the candles which flickered as they lined the way to your destination.

“Haru?” You whispered, your voice filled with curiosity.

“Where are you?”

You continued to follow the trail through the living room and out the backyard, and at first, you thought you were dreaming when you saw what was in front of you. The backyard had been completely transformed, the beautiful flowers and greenery left you completely speechless. But the best part of it all, was Haru. He was standing right in front of you, with a bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers, your favorite flowers.

Haru walked towards you, slowly, deliberately, and quietly. Each step closer to you was filled with purpose, as if he was trying to savor each second of the moment. But once he reached you, everything else faded away, he lifted the bouquet out in front of you, and gave you the most sincere gaze.

“I’m sorry for always being so distant towards you.” Haru croaked, his voice was low, but filled with so much emotion for you.

“I know this will hardly make up for it, but I wanted to show you how dedicated I am to you. I never want to make you feel alone, ever again.”

You stood there completely stunned and speechless, as Haru’s words slowly sunk in. Words couldn’t describe how deeply you appreciated everything he had done for you. The sincerity in his eye, the care he had put into everything—it hit you right in the heart.

“Haru… this is more than enough.” You sweetly replied, your heart swelling with love.

Your hands softly reached out towards the beautiful bouquet, taking it out of his hands. Your fingers brushed against his, and it was an innocent, yet electric touch you both had been wanting. Haru’s hand gently cupped your cheek, and he met your eyes with so much warmth and love.

“This is for all the times I didn’t show you my love. I want to make things right, starting now.”

Your heart felt as if it were blossoming, and you stepped closer to Haru, wrapping your arms around him. The garden, the flowers, the emotion it all invoked in you, none of it mattered more than the feeling of standing there with him.

“I love you so much Haru.” You whispered against him, breathing in the sweet scent of his cologne.

Haru’s arms only tightened around you in response, pulling you in closer, as his lips found his way onto yours. It was a slow and tender kiss, but beneath it, was passion and a need for more. The love Haru had kept hidden all along came undone in your shared kiss. It was as if time stopped, and the only thing existing in that moment were his lips on yours. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck in hopes of getting more out of the kiss. Haru knew you well, and so, he followed your league, his hands slightly trailing lower from your hips, yet pulling you closer.

When you two finally broke away from each other, both of you were breathless, and a small giggle escaped your mouth as Haru leaned his forehead against yours. The moment hung in the air, the flowers Haru worked so hard on planting and taking care of, surrounded you.

And as Haru picked you up into his arms, placing his lips back onto yours—you knew this moment was the beginning of a new Haru Hayate.

I really hope everyone enjoyed! This is my first time ever writing a fanfic on here, so I was really nervous to post this. I’m very new to this (if you can’t already tell), so I can understand if my writing isn’t the best. But i’ll try hard with working on improving.

Once again, thank you all for reading! and till we meet again (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

[lover-of-mine]

It's so frustrating. And it's even more frustrating when it's people who supposedly want what we're all saying it looks like is happening just doom shouting into different inboxes and then when we do try to explain it, for the thousandth time, they come back and reargue the same point we just explained away. No television show is going to have their actor break the fourth wall and say "okay so my character just said that but what he really meant was this". That will never happen. I don't understand what they think they're watching. the show has really not made it complicated to follow at all. It's pretty in your face.

EXACTLY!! The show is very obvious. When they want us to care about something they make it clear. When they need us to feel a certain way they make it clear. You have no idea how many "oh I wanna believe your analysis but I've been burned by *insert queer ship was objectively more fanom than canon and people lost sight of the show it belongs too* so I need to believe *worst outcome possible*" I get. I'm sorry, but how do you live like this? You think I was right about the breakup green because of luck or something? And like, this fandom is allergic to letting a storyline develop. If everything isn't solved as quickly as possible, they don't want it. "If they don't kiss on 810 then it's not happening" is the new "if Eddie doesn't come out on 806 then it's not happening" and dear god, just watch the show? I don't know if this is a product of being newer fans who binged the show after s7 and don't know how to handle a season happening week by week or if this is because people got used to made to binge 9 hours movies split into 9 episodes streaming shows, but people need things to be fully spelled out by episode 2 or else the world is ending. Jesus.

Yes, I know I'm saying this as someone who wants buddie to go canon this season and have been very loud about it, but I don't want to gamble on a season we're not even sure we are gonna get when they already pulled the trigger on Buck's feeling realization and it would be odd to let this drag out for the next at least 13 episodes for no reason other than to drag it out when that means making it happen at the earliest in October because for some reason people seemed to have decided the clock restarted when Buck came out and that's not how it works. Like, every procedural slowburn has the "external force keeping them apart" phase and that's the "believing they are straight" thing they have, there's no reason to delay that more once they are out.

[elliewilliams4eva]

@ all micah bell fans

genuinely question: why?

I'd like to know what about this man you guys think is redeemable to the point where you genuinely like him

and i don't mean the people who "think he's well written" or a good villain i mean people who genuinely believe this man is a good person despite everything and/or has the ability to change info a good person.

for one, i'd like to bring up his obvious manipulation tactics. him slowly drifting apart dutch and arthur especially after hosea

second, his blatant disrespect and disregard towards the other members in the group like the women and people who stay in camp.

third, the dog abuse towards Cain, where we see him verbally belittle the dog and more importantly physically kick him.

fourth, the racism towards Charles and Javier and Lenny we see throughout the game, as early as Colter

fifth, the mysoginy

now i'm not saying anyone in the Van Der Linde gang is a good person. They've all murdered, stolen, etc. where I draw the line is thinking another group of humans is below you because of their skin or gender, at least in video games

i cannot understand how people see him and say "yep, that one's for me"

plz let me know ur thoughts

[multiheadcanons]

THE MERCS AS SONG LYRICS BUT I WROTE THE SONGS THE LYRICS COME FROM AND THERES NO CONTEXT AT ALL BECAUSE THESE SONGS AREN’T ANYWHERE FOR YOU TO HEAR THE CONTEXT (MAYBE ONE DAY)

scout: “i’m teeny but you still look up to me so stay squeaky” i don’t know why when i go through my files that this line always stands out to me when i read it. something about it is cheeky; it’s a smart-ass, corny ass comeback to something i personally have heard most of my life. and i think scout would say “stay squeaky” as a warning too. keep your shit clean, because scout will know if it’s not. he’ll go out of his way to find out what dirt there is on you.

soldier: “and i won’t ask you to wait for me/i’ll be free all year, i guarantee” soldier is a man who moves to the militaristic beat of his own drum. he doesn’t really think he’s too far ahead, or behind, his peers. and he doesn’t need his hand held if he finds out he is either. he is content with himself. he is content even when he’s dead. and he’s always available. so nobody should be worried about him either. he can handle himself. damn. i miss you rick. you were a good man.

pyro: “you may not be the sun but baby, you are my star!” pyro is not my personal absolute favorite character (i think we all know who that is) but that doesn’t stop pyro from being one of my FAVORITE characters to write about! pyro is fascinating because i can essentially say pyro is whatever i want them to be, and as long as i’m hitting a few key points of what we do know about pyro i am well within the confines of canon. pyro is my star. they’ve grown to mean so much to me. but i’ve also never really seen a characterization of pyro that i have really liked and enjoyed; and i’m still not sure if i even like my characterization of pyro! but dammit, this pyro is my pyro. there are many others like them, but this one is mine. pyro is like an s-tier self insert.

demo: “when i get involved, it’s getting worse than intended” this whole verse that this line very specifically is in is soooo funny to me, personally. it’s explosive, it’s vicious, it’s humorous! it’s a lightning strike of so many sentences coming at you. and it’s demo the man. very particularly this line, because to me, if demo is in on something it’s about to go so far out of left field nobody will be able to stop it. he’s learned he is a man who can hear gossip, and shouldn’t get himself involved in it. doesn’t stop him from stepping in sometimes! sometimes you just need a little oomph!

heavy: “i find the bright to be a fickle kind” anyone here a legends of avantris fan? i initially wrote this while watching icebound in my car in the middle of a winter’s night, freezing my ass off because i didn’t want to turn my car on and disturb my neighbors. and i looked up, and the sky was crystal clear; and the moon was directly above me. so i wrote a love song to the winter moon, while listening to a bunch of dnd characters suffer in an icy wasteland. there’s something about big quiet men from already bitterly cold regions that i do think they have an emotional connection to the moon. to its fickle nature in appearance. and i think heavy thinks a lot about what the people who surround him say about him. something about the men he’s grown close with. they bode ill omens. he can’t shake the feeling.

engineer: “communion wine, do you think it’ll save you?” that man knows what he’s doing at all times. he has sacrificed many morals to get where he is now. and he knows there is no coming back. as nice as he may be. he’s an eternal ticking time bomb. it just depends on what’s going to blow up in his face first and take him from this realm of existence. and he knows he’s not seeing the pearly gates. he enjoys what he does far too much.

medic: “the keys lie somewhere between marrow and bone” i didn’t realize i actually wrote this song about the doctor until i went back through and read it. i actually innately understand the doctor because i am him frfr. i was genuinely going batshit insane when i wrote that, overcome and consumed by an obsession i could not and still can not let go of, and watching a lot of saw. and the only way i could let it go is when i get what i need. but it’s lodged so deep, i will have to break myself to get to it. the doctor is willing to break others to get it.

sniper: “i know what i am in.” snipes isn’t dumb. snipes is keenly aware of every decision he’s made that has gotten him to this point. the issue he finds with it is he doesn’t know where else he would go from here. he wouldn’t know what other decisions to make in the past to change what he became today. all he’s done is remain as truthful to himself as he could be; and he’s really banking on that being enough to get him by.

spy: “it sorts the foes from confidants.” spy is discerning, a purposeful and professional metaphorical button pusher. and it’s his dickish nature that is one of his best litmus tests to discern who he can trust and who he can’t. and if you’re not with spy, you are indeed against him. and he treats you accordingly.

[smosh-fessions]

this is kind of a hateful ask so feel free to just delete, but i watched guts (angela's short film) and some of the comments kinda disappointed me. it was such a well written, well acted, well directed short film and it was emotional and meaningful! media about eating disorders that's really honest and emotional isn't super triggering is so rare and greatly appreciated! i just hated that there were so many comments just about angela. granted, there's a lot of thoughtful comments and people saying the same thing as i am right now- but there are also a few comments of people being incapable of doing anything but talk about angela and her being on smosh. and it was enough upon initial release for me to notice and be frustrated by.

art is so difficult and this film was a team effort, why do certain fans want everyone to know that they're there mostly for angela and nobody else? does that not feel disrespectful to them? i felt similarly when patrick's short film came out- he and amanda have incredible chemistry and acted off each other with such natural tension and patrick was so menacing, towing the line between kooky and an actual threat. but all some people talked about in the comments and social media was amangela- which was only in the film for like. 5 minutes. yes, it's sweet and kinda gay that amanda wanted angela to be her wife for the film but that's literally such a small part of the film. there were other things going on.

it just frustrates me that when people like angela who are members of really popular groups make art outside that group, the fans of said group can't engage with the art that they're a part of without appreciating all the other people involved or the story being told. i 100% totally understand it- i would not have been served either short film had i not been a fan of smosh in the first place and i'm excited to see the cast members and patrick outside of smosh and especially for them to be so serious and good. but oh my god where is the decorum?

this rant was spurred on by seeing the fact that dan and phil fans (of which i am one) in the youtube comments section did not appreciate the other simmers on the sims anniversary livestream and just spammed dan and phil things the whole time. im begging some of u thst if ur gonna engage with media, pls for the love of god, show some love to everybody involved! it's cute that smosh appreciates the crew as much as they do- so let's keep that same energy for outside projects!! also this isn't critique of angela- she did incredible in both guts and i live in your house! i love her! i am angela giarratanamaxxing as we speak (idk what i mean by that but i am), but more a critique on how certain people engage with media. pls have some decorum, divas!

I agree a million percent. It's fine to leave a comment that you're happy to see more of Angela's talent, but as you said, people act like she (or whoever) is the ONLY person who made it.

It's not done in malice most of the time, I don't think, but that doesn't change the impact it has. I would be disappointed to see no comments on the rest of my film and only comments about one of the actors if I were Margeaux.

The film was wonderful and hit home for me more than I expected it to, and I wish more people took the time to look at these things for what they are as opposed to just a vehicle for more Angela.

This was very well said.

[chemical-ghoul]

emily armstrong scientology thingo

That freak who wants Emily dead and thinks she’s married to Chester has me blocked so I can post whatever I want now thank the fucking lord 🙏

I've done tons of research on this topic and like… there is so much proof against Emily being in Scientology, people refuse to inform themselves outside of random articles or listen to people of the likes of Jamie Bennington, who is known for making up obvious vile lies about the band & who's own mother has a restraining order against him due to his crazy claims and stalkerish behaviour. Obviously we won't know anything until and unless Emily says something but I'm absolutely willing to bet she's either on her way out or has been out for a while.

If there’s anything wrong here please do feel free to correct me, I love learning about this topic.

For the things that still may qualify her being in the cult, other than her ~2013 & prior involvement from the gala (that brought awareness to this issue in the first place) the only CURRENT thing I can think of is probably her relationship with her mother--it doesn't necessarily mean she's in or out, but her mother is a higher up in the cult and therefore would probably want to provent her daughter leaving. Emily has discussed speaking to her mother as recently as September.

As much as I wish she wouldn’t, I understand why she would still want to connect with her mother even if she isn’t in the cult anymore. And she can absolutely do that, but if she wants to speak out about it it’d mean leaving her mother behind and becoming a suppressive person, which I doubt she would want to do. From what I can gather, she’s most likely left silently.

The only real proof of her ever being properly active in the cult at the time of me writing this, are from photos and other peoples retellings of her as a child (some of which explain just how uninterested she was IN actually being a scientologist), one completed task on her profile from 2007 & the latest being in 2013, when she went to a Scientology celebrity gala (probably the wrong name but i'm mind blanking) and there's been basically nothing since.

For the things against her being in the cult: For starters she has never promoted the cult. She's mentioned having a therapist in recent interviews and discusses mental health & anti religion SO much in her music. I don't think someone whose ideologies still line up with Scientology would have been as anti religion and pro mental health help as she is and has been. I believe a while after 2013, maybe roughly when 'Pleasure to Meet You' (Dead Sara’s 2nd full album) released?, is when her lyrics began getting more close to lyrics that a scientologist probably wouldn't write. Alongside this, since 2017, a few years after PTMY came out, fans have noticed changes in her attitude that make her seem a lot happier and less tired. I think this change is worth a mention, as the record that came out after 2017, Temporary Things Taking Up Space, is so lyrically against all of Scientology’s values it’s shocking a so called hardcore scientologist could even think to sing these songs.

Colin, Linkin Park’s drummer, has denied himself having any connections with the cult in a vague instagram comment, which isn't much but I do think if they want to stay quiet small instagram comments poking fun at people accusing them is a fine way to go about confirming anything. Mike spoke out about Scientology a year after he met her--which in most cases and discussions i've seen, would have a scientologist cut ties entirely with a person. She has associated with many people who have left the cult and spoken out about them, Mike being the most obvious example but Beck is a good one too. He left the cult many years ago and only spoke out about it years later due to fear of retaliation from the church. She’s also friends with Brian Bowen Smith who to my knowledge photographed Leah Remini for her book about Scientology.

Her being a lesbian also helps my case, but not by much because if anything it really depends on if she came out before she was in Dead Sara or not. They tend to allow famous people to be lgbtq without issue by the looks of things, but we aren't sure when she came out. Speaking of DS, they have performed at lots of events raising money and awareness for mental health including the charity Talinda Bennington (Chester's wife) set up after Chester passed away. Not really relevant but worth a mention, they’re also good friends with the band Badflower, who have songs that are very openly about mental health and abuse. I don’t see a scientologist being friends with someone like Josh Katz who can write and sing those words.

The people accusing her of being a hardcore scientologist (Cedric and his wife Chrissie? could be wrong about her name—also those shitty scientology youtubers who keep making videos on this subject that should really be dropped by now LMAO) are still yet to really show any proof she's still in other than claims which I don't think should be taken as 100% fact—none of this paragraph stuff should either but I think someone who’s been a LP fan for years and has always been very openly anti scientology may have a good outlook on the situation so this is my two cents.