#but like. i didn’t cheat. i played by the rules of the game. i used the tools available to me

[anim-ttrpgs]

More rambling On the subject of TTRPGs as a disrespected artform.

There’s a bunch of reasons for this disrespect being present that I could get into but I’m going to focus on the most relevant one to this topic: TTRPGs are helpless.

To explain what I mean I’m going to make a comparison to video games, or at least action-adventure type video games. Those have a lot of similarity to “trad” and “neo-trad” TTRPGs, which are nominally the most popular style of TTRPG (even though it seems like half the player base would rather be playing something else but again another tangent). Both of these are usually about protagonists using abilities to avoid or defeat adversaries and avoid traps and progress through a series of hazardous areas.

Video games are not helpless. They can assert themselves on the player. When you lose in a video game and you’re like “Aw no way, I didn’t want that to happen!” The video game can say “No, Mario fell in the pit, Master Chief got blown up by a grenade, Pac-man got caught by a ghost, you lose. According to the rules of the game, you have to try again from a checkpoint.” And you have to do it. The game forces you to start over.

In a TTRPG, if your guy gets killed and you object to that, the TTRPG can at most offer a weak textual protest as you or the game master flips the die over to a more favorable number.

Of course plenty of video games have cheat codes, hacks, mods, etc. that can remove that power from the video game to force you to follow the rules of the game, but not everyone has the knowledge or skills to use those, whereas everyone can flip a die over or just lie about the number. Plus, doing this is looked upon less favorably in the culture of video games than in the culture of ttrpgs. I mean, it’s in the name. “Cheat” codes. You’re cheating.

If somebody brags about how they beat Elden Ring with no deaths but then you mention that you hacked the game to give your character infinite HP, people will go “hey wait a minute,” but if you brag about how your character was so badass when they defeated a hundred cultists at once in D&D5e, because the DM kept saying the cultists missed every time the rules say they should’ve hit and you kept saying your character hits every time the rules say their attack should miss, nobody bats an eye. It’s even more accepted and expected that a DMPC will materialize out of thin air to kill everything every time the party picks a fight they can’t win.

Ultimately, a lot of the urge to cheat like this I think comes from the fact that people are introduced to neo-trad TTRPGs like D&D5e through critical role and also its playerbase’s general fixation on pre-planned plots and heavily scripted scenes that rely on characters never dying(which was not invented by critical role but was heavily bolstered by them). The only way that these goals can be achieved is by cheating, since D&D5e really doesn’t support that kind of thing, so they get into a habit of cheating. They get into the mindset that the rules don’t matter and can only get in the way of their intended gameplay. Which is of course because their intended gameplay is not something D&D5e was made for.

Then gradually they trickle into other games besides D&D5e, and assume that those games’ rules don’t matter either, completely deflecting and disregarding the experience that the designer intended players to have with their art. Or worse, they become TTRPG designers themselves, and write their own rules based on the assumption that the rules don’t matter which not only results in shitty gameplay experiences for people who are trying to follow these thoughtlessly-written rules, but also further reinforces the infectious idea that TTRPG rules don’t matter. But dude. TTRPGs aren’t anything *but* rules. The rules text is the whole game. Saying the rules don’t matter is like saying the paint on the canvas doesn’t matter! Yes! It matters because those colors of paint in those places placed there intentionally by the artists are what makes it a painting and make up the whole experience of experiencing the painting!

So we have a huge demographic in the TTRPG fanbase that thinks that the very artform itself is, at best, valueless and at worst actively bad!

Reading comprehension check!

Things I did not say in this post:

“We need to expel any particular demographic and never let them play.” (But maybe if they don’t like our artform, they should try to find one more suited to their needs instead of twisting another artform into something else.)

“You’re never allowed to adjust or homebrew a rule to fit the intentional gameplay experience you’re going for.” (But if you find yourself doing this all the time, either before you have even played the game normally, or constantly on the fly in most or all sessions, maybe you need to find a different game altogether.)

Exerpt from Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. (with art by @theblackwarden )

[goldensunset]

I BEAT CYNTHIAAAAAAAAA

[thegracefullion]

10 Generations. 10 Different Heroines. 1 Legacy. Welcome to the Literary Heroine Legacy Challenge! I’ve been itching for a good legacy to revive my love for the Sims 4, and I haven’t found one so I wrote one myself.  I was inspired after reading Emma— the family dynamics, drama, and romance were everything I ever wanted in a Sims challenge. So I modernized the stories and adapted them to fit this game.  Special shoutout to Designergirl81, who I met through MissLollypopSims’ Discord! The generations of Anne of Avonlea and Dorothy were their brainchildren. 💗 I designed each generation to reference a famous literary heroine. This is a very story-oriented challenge but feel free to bend, tweak, and change as much as you can! Sims Challenges aren’t meant to limit your fun. 😉 TL;DR: Play your own way while letting these rules guide your storytelling! The official tag of the challenge is #TheLiteraryHeroineChallengeTS4. Have fun! Check out the rules here or keep reading!

Basic Rules

Play on any life span you want but I recommend playing on Normal life span.

You are encouraged to play with female heirs. Of course, this is optional!

You are discouraged from using money cheats. Some generations have stories that are related to their social class— so try to stay true to the story as much as you can.

You can live wherever you want unless the generation states otherwise.

Feel free to customize each generation’s race and sexual orientation

Unless specifically stated, each generation has to finish their aspiration and career.

Even if most of these books are classics, I wrote this with a more modern take on it. You don’t need any mods or CC to fit the eras’ aesthetics— but if you want to, you totally can!

⭐ means there’s a recommended mod for this!

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 1: Elizabeth Bennett 📚 Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to play you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart. 📚

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that all Sims 4 challenges must start with an heir. In this case, that’s you, which is surprising because everyone else in your life has decided that you are plain, especially when compared to your other two sisters. Lately though, you start to sense that you’ve been getting more attention from your neighbors. One particular Sim hasn’t been able to leave you and your family alone… and you don’t like them at all, not one bit. Well… maybe just a bit.

Aspiration: Successful Lineage 

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot-Headed, Bookworm OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Journalist

→ Master the Writing skill. → Live in a rundown family home passed down by your parents with two sisters until you are married. → Have a negative relationship with a neighbor. → Reject a proposal from your work boyfriend. → Build a relationship with your neighbor after you reject the proposal of your ex. → Have a scandal involving one of your sisters that your neighbor supports you through. → Fall in love and marry this neighbor then move in with him. → Have two children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 2: Emma Woodhouse 💗  It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble.  💗

Growing up, you were always the sheltered one. Your father was very protective of you, and therefore never let you out of his sight. Of course, that didn’t stop you from becoming well-loved by the entire town. You were known for throwing the best dinner parties and befriending everyone your father and mother knew. Needless to say, this got to your head a bit. You weren’t arrogant, you were confident. In everyone’s eyes, you could do no wrong. Well, everyone except your childhood best friend— who was never afraid to call you out for being a bit clueless at times. 

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante OR Party Animal

Traits: Self-Assured, High Maintenance, Music-Lover OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Romance Consultant or Lawyer

→ Master the Charisma and Piano skills. → Host at least 5 gold-star dinners. → Have a childhood best friend who’s a bit older than you. For example: When you’re 17 (end of teenage years), they’re already 20 (start of young adult years). * → You can’t have good friends who are your age until your childhood best friend ages up into a young adult. → Make a new friend that you treat like a “project” until you two fall out. Choose if you two will reconcile in the future. → Profess your love to your childhood best friend during a heated argument. → Marry your best friend and live with your mother and father in your childhood home until your parents die. Have one child. *It goes without saying to only get with your childhood best friend when the two sims are both young adults 🙂 No super uncomfortable age gaps, please.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 3: Scarlett O’Hara ✨ “Tomorrow, I’ll think of some way to get him back.” ✨ All your life, you grew up spoiled. Your mother and father were so in love, and you almost expected to have a story as romantic and easy as theirs. However, when your high school flame elopes quickly with someone else right after graduation, you start to spiral. No longer able to get things your way, you begin to self-sabotage and jump from relationship to relationship. Deep down you know you should stop and smarten up but frankly, my dear, you don’t give a damn.

Aspiration: Soulmate— you fail this 

Traits: Materialistic, Genius, Jealous OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: None until your divorce then become a Manual Laborer + Barista

⭐ Recommended Mods: Healthcare Redux Mod, Extreme Violence Mod

→ Don’t master any skill. → Have a high school flame who elopes with someone else. → Elope immediately with someone else. Have them die tragically.* → Marry another person quickly who you have bad compatibility with. Get negative romance with them right before they pass.* → Marry a third time. Have them catch you in a compromising moment with your high school flame, which leads to a divorce that leaves you with nothing. → End up working two part time jobs to keep your household running. → Have 4 kids with your 3 husbands (you can cheat for twins, if you want). *You decide how they die. I recommended having mods like the Healthcare Redux and Extreme Violence in your game for realistic roleplay reasons— but if he gets tragically eaten by a Cowplant that works too! 🙂

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 4: Jo March 🧾 “When the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.” 🧾 Growing up was not easy for you. Your childhood was incredibly unpredictable with your mother jumping from relationship-to-relationship. And when things started to stabilize emotionally, you ended up in poverty.  Luckily, you had your siblings to cling to, and a passion for writing that’s unmatched. You wrote a ton of things across different genres, except for romance which you didn’t quite understand. In fact, everyone always expected you to be a little woman, not rough or wild, but you knew in your heart that’s not what you were destined to become.

Aspiration: Best-Selling Author

Traits: Creative, Unflirty, and Ambitious OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Author

⭐ Recommended Mods: Writing Career Overhaul, SNB Banking

→ Master the Writing and Logic skills. → Be best friends with all of your siblings. → Start selling short stories as a teenager to help pay the bills. → Get a best friend in high school who professes their love to you during graduation. Turn them down. Optional: Have them marry one of your other siblings. → Move away to the city to focus on your writing. Always send 30% of your income to your mother until she dies. → Due to a tragedy in the family, adopt a child of one of your siblings.* → Win a Starlight Accolade for one of your novels. → Never marry but live a fulfilling life. *They are to be the next heir to preserve the bloodline. You can adopt more if you want.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 5: Anne Shirley 📖 “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.” 📖 You were adopted by your aunt and lived a happy childhood. Despite being surrounded by family drama, you never let it dampen your spirit. You struggled with social cues and caused mayhem wherever you went— of course, that never stopped you from making your voice heard. You were, afterall, raised by someone who was never afraid to make a point. However, unlike your aunt, you always longed for romance. You always imagined big declarations of passion— but perhaps it’s time to learn that love creeps to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

Aspiration: Academic OR Soulmate

Traits: Romantic, Socially Awkward, and Loyal OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Education Career

⭐ Recommended Mod: Education Overhaul

→ Master the Research and Debate skill. → Have a childhood enemy that you become best friends with in high school. → Go to University and study Language and Literature. → Fall out with your best friend while in University. → Start dating someone you meet in University but break up right after graduation. → Get a job in the Education Career and write on the side. → Reconnect with your former best friend and realize you love them. → Get married to your best friend. → Retire from the Education career and become a freelance writer in your twilight years.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 6: Nancy Drew 🔍 “I don't promise to forget the mystery, but I know I'll have a marvelous time.”  🔍 Every bedtime, your mother read you stories that she and your grandmother wrote. Among all of those, it’s your grandmother’s mysteries that impacted you the most. There was something so thrilling about being a heroic, fearless woman who helped others out. Because of this, you gained a bunch of friends who loved you very deeply. With their support, you grew up as a well-known detective who can solve any case.  It was a fun life, but you eventually settled down in Henford-On-Bagley to have a family of your own.

Aspiration: Friend of the World 

Traits: Generous, Nosy, and Outgoing OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Detective OR  ⭐ Zerbu’s Simvestigations Mod

→ Master the fitness skill. → Be close friends with both your parents. → Have 2 best friends who are either your roommates (Discover University) or live in the same apartment complex as you (For Rent) for your entire YA life. → Get engaged to someone you meet on-the-job. → Before marrying your fiance, go on a trip to Selvadorada with your 2 best friends and explore the Jungle Temples. → Settle down in Henford-On-Bagley and have a farm life of your own. → Never move away once you settle in Henford-On-Bagley.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 7: Dorothy Gale 🐶 “If we walk far enough, we shall sometime come to someplace.”  🐶 Growing up you knew that there was more to the world than what was outside your own backdoor.  Afterall, your mother was a famous detective— if she went on her own adventures, why can’t you?

With her and your father’s support, you spend your young adult life traveling. You made some great friends along the way (and even some loves), but eventually you start to wonder if there is no place like home.

Aspiration: Local Aspirations— complete at least two

Beach Life

Mt. Komorebi Sightseer 

Fount of Tomarani Knowledge

Traits: Adventurous, Dog Lover, and Loves Outdoors OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Any Freelance Career 

⭐ Recommended Mods: SimNation Travel, Home Region

→ Have a dog that goes everywhere with you. → Live in 3 or more worlds during your Young Adult life. → Make 3 best friends that each teach you a valuable life lesson. → After making your three best friends, use reward points to add the following traits: Brave, Savant, and Incredibly Friendly. → As an adult, realize you miss your family and return home. → Have a long distance relationship with the father of your children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 8: Wendy Darling 🌟 “She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. ”  🌟 You grew up waiting. First, for your father’s seasonal visits… which eventually stops when you become a teenager. Next, for the opportunity to leave Henford-on-Bagley to pursue your dreams of becoming an actress. And finally, for your first love, a man who refused to propose to you, no matter how long you waited for him to. Eventually you grew tired waiting and decided to grow up. You married a sensible man, had a child, and gave up your dreams of becoming an actress. Still, you held on to the dreams of your first love and end up reconnecting in a night of passion that leaves you pregnant with his child. Realizing that he’ll never grow up, you decide to dedicate your life to your family and husband.

Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress - you fail this or the⭐ Housewife Aspiration (after you marry)

Traits: Perfectionist, Proper, and Cheerful OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Actor/Actress

→ Master the Parenting skill. → Have a distant family dynamic with your father who never lives with you. → Join the drama club and meet your first love. Optional: He has the childish trait. → Give your first love all of your major romantic milestones. → Lose touch with your first love when you move to Del Sol Valley. → Marry a man you’d consider as sensible. Have one child with him. → Have a one time secret affair that results in another child. → Dedicate your life to your children afterwards.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 9: Alice Liddell ��🐰 “It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.”  🐰

There were times you felt like you never truly belonged anywhere. While everyone at home lived and abided by your parents’ rules, your head was always in the clouds. Sensibilities and propriety were never in your vocabulary, much to the disdain of your father and the rest of your siblings. Still, you were a free spirit that could never be controlled. After moving out as a young adult, you fell in love with cooking and mixology. You also met a group of misfits who were as different as you. Every Sunday, you’d host special “tea” parties with them, that broadened your worldview and made you realize that the world gets curiouser and curiouser with each passing day.

Aspiration: Master Mixologist or Master Chef

Traits: Clumsy, Foodie, and Childish OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Culinary Career

⭐ Recommended Mods: Basemental, Grannies Cookbook, Open Love Life

→ Master the Cooking and Mixology Skills. → Have a juice/nectar hobby on the side. → Have a club with people who have weird or eccentric traits.* → Fall in love with someone with the Erratic Trait. → Host “tea” parties every Sunday in your own home. ⭐ Optional: Use the Basemental Mods and have your Sims get high on dope/drunk on alcohol during the tea parties. → Dye your hair a different, brighter color. → Live in a quirky and colorful house. → Befriend a rabbit who you talk to constantly. Name them The Mad Hatter. → ⭐ Optional: Be in a polyamorous relationship with Romantic Boundaries OR the Open Love Life Mod → Have two children. *You decide what weird and eccentric means.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 10: Countess Ellen Olenska  🎨 “The real loneliness is living among all these people who only ask one to pretend.”  🎨

You appreciated your mother’s lifestyle. You saw the world for what it could become, and not what everyone wanted it to be. However, you worried about your younger sister. You saw her innocence and wanted to protect it. When you turned into a young adult, you moved away and took your sister with you to start anew. However, life was not always easy. Straight out of teenhood, you married someone from a different city and had a tumultuous relationship with him. You separate with him and continue to care for your sister. You’re able to provide for her through your paintings, which also brought you a lot of fame. When she grew up into a Young Adult, she formed an attachment with a man that… intrigued you. She married him. This kept him in your life, but made it difficult for you to ignore your feelings. One night, you find yourself alone together, and you must make a choice: stay with him and break your sister's heart, or leave forever to give them peace. You have a price to pay either way— we can't behave like people in novels without consequence, can we?

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Traits: Gloomy, Art Lover, and Family Oriented OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Critic 

⭐ Recommended Mods: RPO, Wonderful Whims, Custom Relationship Bits, Soulmates

→ Master the Painting Skill. → Become a Level 3 Celebrity with your paintings. → Marry someone who isn’t your soulmate straight out of high school. Have a negative relationship with him before separating. ⭐ Optional: Only temporarily separate with him using the RPO Mod. → Be best friends with your sister. → Become soulmates with the partner of your sister without consummating the relationship. → When you’re an adult, invite your sister’s partner over, and make a choice— woohoo together and break your sister's heart, or end the emotional affair. → If you woohoo together - Tell your sister the next day and become enemies. Name your child after them. → If you end the emotional affair - Move away from your love and get back together with your ex-husband. Die without having your own children.

[disneyprincemuke]

who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver

who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW

(series masterlist)

she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”

sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”

“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”

he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”

“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”

“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”

“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”

he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”

she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”

“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”

“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”

sebastian blinks. “seriously?”

“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”

“from falling down.”

“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”

he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”

sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”

logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”

“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.

“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.

“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”

logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”

“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”

“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”

“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”

“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”

mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”

logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”

“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”

“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”

“fair argument.”

“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”

max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”

oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”

“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.

“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”

“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”

“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”

“red bull literally created her.”

“no they didn’t.”

charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”

max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”

“who are you talking about?”

“my race car? her name is rocky.”

oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”

max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”

“seb.”

“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”

“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”

max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @darleneslane @inejismywife @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same. 

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.” 

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned. 

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!” 

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.” 

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.” 

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.” 

“You banned me from playing a card game?” 

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.” 

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks. 

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain. 

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.” 

“I cheat?” 

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.” 

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.” 

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?” 

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.” 

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment. 

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.” 

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly. 

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that. 

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted. 

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…” 

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged. 

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.” 

“What is?” Azriel softly asked. 

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock. 

“How so?” Mor posed. 

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?” 

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.” 

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat. 

“Does this mean—” 

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them. 

As if you weren’t sitting right there. 

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.” 

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.” 

“What about…” 

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull. 

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards. 

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears. 

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. 

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—” 

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.” 

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—” 

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.” 

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.” 

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really. 

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.” 

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony. 

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know. 

Everything felt like too much. 

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment. 

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now. 

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins. 

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you. 

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze. 

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?” 

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take. 

It infuriated you. 

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—” 

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today. 

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself. 

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—” 

“It won’t!” 

You screamed. 

You hadn’t meant to. 

Azriel stopped in his tracks. 

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” 

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.” 

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.” 

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond. 

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete. 

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near. 

What you were regretting, you didn’t know. 

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.” 

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. 

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw. 

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.” 

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness. 

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body. 

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.” 

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.” 

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress. 

A ring around your finger. 

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket. 

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?” 

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.” 

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks. 

He had said you were mates. 

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.” 

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.” 

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms. 

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. 

“Of course I married you.” 

A pause. 

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.” 

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question. 

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…” 

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.” 

“That was the goal.” 

Another soft round of laughter. 

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you. 

[sherewrytes]

Half crazy, Toji x reader

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

summary. You were always told by your family to stay out of trouble, get your degree, get a good job, and live a good life. Simple rules to follow. You somehow caught the eye of probably the most problematic person in your university but why did it intrigue you to find out more about him.

Toji Zenin/Fushiguro saw you for the first time strolling past him and his friends in front of the university's library. Something about you drew him in. He never saw someone like you before, focused, poised and dedicated to their degree. Always in the library or hanging out with friends, not really partying much. He wondered when curiosity would get the better of him to approach you, but he knew the life he lived would be too problematic for someone as sweet as you.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, dark romance,

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45

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Chapter: Racing Shadows

The streets buzzed with tension as the underground scene reached fever pitch. The scent of rubber and gasoline hung in the air, mixing with the hum of engines revving and the low chatter of spectators. It wasn’t just any race night—tonight, the stakes were higher, and reputations were on the line. Toji Zenin’s crew was about to go head-to-head with Hiromi Higuruma’s squad, a rising force on the circuit.

Toji stood by his black 1979 Dodge Charger, white neon lights flickering beneath it. The beast was all muscle, just like the man himself. Tattoos snaked down Toji’s arms, and his eyes were fixed on the crowd. Somewhere out there, Y/n was watching. He’d spotted her earlier, and his jaw had tightened, though he’d tried to play it off. He wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the crew or, worse, Hiromi.

Hiromi Higuruma stepped out of his blood-red Ferrari F12 Berlinetta, a confident smirk playing on his lips. His ride was a monster, all sleek curves and roaring power, but Hiromi was the real threat tonight. The man exuded arrogance, as if every win was already guaranteed. Dressed sharp as always, Hiromi’s eyes landed on Toji, narrowing as he walked over.

“Zenin,” Hiromi’s voice dripped with disdain. “You ready to finally lose that rust bucket? Or are we going to pretend you’re still the king of the streets?”

Toji exhaled smoke from his cigarette, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “ Rust bucket, are you a fucking 5 year old, try harder with the insults. We’ll see who’s still standing by the end of the night, Higuruma. You sure you can handle it?”

Hiromi chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his voice low and taunting. “Handle it? Please. I’ve been handling everything—money, cars... women.” He paused, locking eyes with Toji. “Though, from what I hear, you’ve been slacking on that last part. You got eyes for one girl, but I haven’t seen you make a move. What’s the matter, Zenin? Can’t close the deal?”

Toji’s jaw clenched. Y/n had been the only one he cared to look at, but Hiromi’s words hit a nerve, one he didn’t want exposed in front of the crew. Sukuna, leaning against his blood-red Chevy Camaro, shot a glance at Toji, sensing the rising tension.

Hiromi kept going, his voice louder now, trying to rile Toji up. “What’s wrong? You’re afraid? Because the way I see it, all you do is stare. No approach, no talk. Is that your game now? Losing it with cars, losing it with women?”

Toji’s cigarette dropped from his lips, his fists tightening. Before anyone could blink, he was inches from Hiromi, nostrils flaring. “Watch your mouth, Higuruma, or I’ll shut it for you right here.”

The crowd quieted, eyes widening as the tension crackled between the two racers. Gojo, ever the joker, stepped forward with a grin. “Relax, Toji. Hiromi’s just bitter ‘cause he thinks he’s hot, but no one actually wants him.”

Hiromi’s eyes flicked to Gojo, but he wasn’t backing down from Toji. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit a nerve? Seems like your boy over here just confirmed it. Maybe after I take your car tonight, I’ll take the girl too.”

Toji lunged, grabbing Hiromi by the collar, ready to throw a punch. The crew moved fast—Geto, Sukuna, and Gojo pulling Toji back while Panda and Nanami stepped in to hold Hiromi. The energy was electric, and it felt like a fight was moments away from breaking out.

“Save it for the track!” Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re here to race, not brawl.”

Hiromi straightened his shirt, his smirk never faltering. “Yeah, Zenin, listen to your crew. You’d need them after I beat you anyway.”

Toji glared, seething. “You want to raise the stakes, Hiromi? Fine. Pink slips.”

The crowd gasped. This wasn’t just a race anymore—it was a declaration of war. Racing for pink slips meant losing your car if you didn’t win, and with cars as custom and expensive as these, that was everything.

Hiromi’s grin grew wider. “Now we’re talking. But just so you know, Zenin, after I win your car, I’ll put it to good use. Probably better than you ever could.”

Toji’s smile was sharp, dangerous. “You better pray you’re fast enough.”

Hiromi leaned in. “Always am.”

Race 1: Gojo Satoru vs. Kento Nanami

The first race was Gojo against Nanami, and the tension was palpable. Gojo, all smiles, pulled his baby blue Mazda RX-8 to the start line. His white hair practically glowed under the streetlights, and he shot Nanami a playful wink. “You ready to get smoked, Nami?”

Nanami, leaning against his sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo S, didn’t even respond. He was all business, adjusting his sleeves and climbing into the driver’s seat without a word. His car was a silent killer—sleek, powerful, and devastatingly fast.

As the light flashed green, both cars roared to life. Gojo’s Mazda took off like a rocket, zipping around the first corner with ease. His grin widened as he weaved through traffic, laughing to himself. But Nanami was calm, composed, and relentless. His Porsche moved like a panther stalking its prey, never too far behind, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Gojo’s hands moved fluidly, switching gears, his confidence unshakable. But on the final straight, Nanami closed the gap, his Porsche’s power surging forward. It was neck and neck as they approached the finish line, but Gojo’s laugh echoed as he barely edged out the win.

“Close one, Nami!” Gojo called, leaning out his window, though Nanami’s stoic expression didn’t falter.

Race 2: Suguru Geto vs. Toge Inumaki

Next up was Geto versus Inumaki. Geto slid into his yellow and black Nissan Primera GT, the green neon lights casting a ghostly glow beneath the car. Inumaki, his face tattoos glowing under the streetlights, pulled up in his dark green Mitsubishi Eclipse, the car’s wide body kit giving it an aggressive edge.

Inumaki’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes focused ahead. He was new to the scene, but everyone knew he had potential. The light flicked green, and Geto’s Primera shot forward, the engine howling as he took an early lead.

Inumaki followed closely, his Eclipse cornering sharply, though Geto’s experience gave him the edge. Inumaki’s focus was fierce, his tattoos and piercings giving him an intimidating look as he raced, but Geto was smooth, taking corners like a dancer, always a step ahead.

In the end, Geto crossed the finish line first, but Inumaki wasn’t far behind. “Not bad, kid,” Geto smirked as he pulled up next to him, and Inumaki nodded, his face unreadable.

Race 3: Sukuna Ryomen vs. Panda

Sukuna was up next, and his blood-red Chevy Camaro looked like a beast ready to devour the streets. Across from him, Panda, with his massive build and double-sleeved tattoos, slid into his blacked-out Dodge Challenger. Gold cuffs glinted on his wrists as he revved the engine, the roar echoing through the lot.

Sukuna grinned. “Let’s see what the new guy’s got.”

The race began with a thunderous start, Sukuna’s Camaro exploding off the line with raw power. But Panda’s Challenger wasn’t far behind, the massive car barreling forward with surprising speed. Panda’s calm demeanor didn’t match the intensity of his car, but his control was impeccable.

Sukuna’s grin widened as he pushed the Camaro to its limits, weaving through the course with reckless abandon. Panda followed, his Challenger staying close, but Sukuna’s experience won out. As they crossed the finish line, Sukuna let out a whoop of victory.

“Not bad, big guy,” Sukuna called out. Panda, ever the silent type, simply nodded.

Race 4: Toji Zenin vs. Hiromi Higuruma

Finally, it was time for the main event: Toji versus Hiromi. Toji stepped into his black Dodge Charger, the white neon lights flickering ominously beneath it. Hiromi, across from him, sat in his Ferrari F12, its blood-red body gleaming under the streetlights.

Toji’s face was set, jaw clenched as he revved the engine. This wasn’t just about the race anymore—it was personal. Hiromi had thrown too many insults, and Toji wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

Hiromi’s smirk hadn’t faltered. “Better say goodbye to that Charger, Zenin. It’ll look better in my garage.”

“Keep dreaming,” Toji growled.

The light flashed green, and both cars roared to life. The race was on.

The moment the light flashed green, the sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the night air. Toji’s Charger took off like a bullet, but Hiromi’s Ferrari was right on his tail,

a sleek red blur chasing the massive black muscle car through the neon-lit streets. Both cars thundered down the highway, weaving through the urban landscape at breakneck speeds.

Toji gripped the wheel, his hands steady, eyes razor-focused on the road ahead. The raw power of his Charger reverberated through his body, the engine growling as he pushed it harder.

This wasn’t just about racing anymore; this was about showing Hiromi, the crew, and especially Y/n, that no one could touch him—not on the streets, not anywhere.

Hiromi, in his Ferrari, was grinning like a madman. His sleek, custom-built machine cut through the air with a deadly precision, roaring behind Toji.

Hiromi’s confidence was palpable as he drew closer to Toji, pushing the Ferrari to its limits. He flicked his eyes to the side mirror, watching Toji's Charger devour the road ahead.

"You’re slipping, Zenin!" Hiromi shouted through his open window, his voice taunting, carried by the rush of wind. "You drive like you fight—sloppy and slow!"

Toji didn’t take the bait, but the fury in his chest burned hotter. He pushed his Charger even harder, the custom-built engine roaring with every shift of the gears. His knuckles whitened on the wheel, his jaw locked in determination.

Hiromi swerved up alongside Toji, their cars nearly kissing as they raced through a tight alley. The Ferrari’s sleek frame allowed it to glide with ease, but Toji’s Charger was a beast, chewing up the pavement as he powered through the turns. Hiromi’s laughter echoed across the alley as he pulled ahead slightly, his red Ferrari glinting under the streetlights.

"Guess I’ll be taking that Charger home tonight," Hiromi mocked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Maybe I’ll even take the girl too. She deserves a real man."

Toji’s teeth ground together. His muscles tightened as Hiromi’s words fueled his fire. Y/n flashed in his mind, her eyes on him earlier tonight. She’d watched him, and in that moment, Toji knew he couldn’t lose. Not to this prick.

Without warning, Toji slammed his foot on the accelerator, the Charger’s powerful engine snarling as he surged forward. The gap between their cars closed in an instant, and Hiromi’s smirk vanished, replaced with shock as Toji pulled ahead.

"You’re not taking anything, Hiromi," Toji growled, eyes locked on the road as he took a sharp corner, his Charger sliding sideways with precision, drifting flawlessly. The tires screeched against the asphalt, sending sparks flying into the night air.

Hiromi’s Ferrari struggled to follow Toji’s aggressive moves, and for the first time in the race, doubt flickered in his eyes. Toji’s car was a monster, devouring every turn, every straightaway, with ferocious speed.

From the sidelines, the crowd roared in approval, the energy electric. Gojo, Sukuna, and Geto watched intently, knowing this race was more than just about cars—it was about pride, respect, and dominance.

"Toji’s got this," Gojo smirked, leaning against his RX-8, arms crossed. "Hiromi’s not ready."

Sukuna exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes following Toji’s Charger as it surged ahead. "He better be. That Ferrari’s not playing around."

Back on the road, Toji took another sharp corner, the Charger roaring as it bolted down the final straightaway. Hiromi, desperate, pushed the Ferrari to its absolute limit, trying to catch up, but it wasn’t enough. Toji’s skill, his raw determination, and the power of his custom Charger were too much.

As the finish line approached, the crowd leaned in, holding their breath. The neon lights from both cars flashed as they tore through the final stretch, but it was Toji’s Charger that crossed first, Hiromi’s Ferrari trailing behind by mere inches.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Toji let out a breath, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he slowed his car, pulling it to a stop. Hiromi skidded to a halt beside him, fury etched across his face.

Toji climbed out of his Charger, his expression cool and composed. Hiromi, on the other hand, slammed his door shut, his pride in tatters. The tension between them hadn’t diminished, and it was clear that things were far from over.

"You got lucky, Zenin," Hiromi sneered, stepping closer to Toji. "Next time, I’ll bury you. And we race for pink slips again—because I want that Charger."

Toji turned, his gaze cold, his voice low and lethal. "You don’t stand a chance. But if you want another shot at getting humiliated, I’m all for it."

Before Hiromi could respond, Gojo strolled over, grinning. "What’s this, boys? Another rematch already? Damn, Zenin, you really don’t let these guys breathe."

Hiromi glared at Gojo but kept his focus on Toji. "Next time, Zenin, I’ll take everything from you."

Toji smirked, leaning against his Charger, eyes gleaming with confidence. "You couldn’t take it if I gift-wrapped it for you."

The crowd began to disperse, the adrenaline still pulsing in the air as the racers regrouped. Y/n stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on Toji, who caught her gaze for a brief moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.

Hiromi stalked back to his Ferrari, his crew following behind, but the tension between him and Toji lingered like a storm cloud, promising that this rivalry was far from over.

Toji’s POV:

The race had been a rush, but now that it was over, Toji leaned against his Charger, the heat from the engine warming his back as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled from his lips, drifting into the cool night air, mixing with the distant cheers and hum of conversations around the lot. His eyes flickered toward Sukuna, who was sitting on the hood of Gojo’s RX-8, rolling up another joint with meticulous precision. The whole crew was there, unwinding after the adrenaline-fueled race.

Toji’s mind was still buzzing. Hiromi's words replayed in his head, especially the part about taking everything from him—including her. His jaw clenched slightly, but he masked it with another pull from his cigarette. He wasn’t going to let Hiromi—or anyone—get under his skin. But Y/n… she’d been watching, he could feel it. Every time he was around, he caught her eyes on him, just like his had been on her since that first time outside the library.

Gojo’s loud laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. The man was standing a few feet away, chatting up some girls who had stuck around after the race. Typical. Geto was nearby, doing the same, his relaxed posture oozing charm as he leaned in to talk to one of the girls, a grin tugging at his lips. Meanwhile, Choso rolled up late, as usual, pulling up on his custom motorbike with a low growl. He parked and swung his leg off, the gold accents on the sleek black bike gleaming under the neon lights.

"Why is she walking over here?" Choso asked, nodding in the direction of Mei Mei, who had just broken off from Y/n and Shoko. The rest of the guys followed his gaze.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, already grinning as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shit, hide your wallets, boys. She smells money from miles away."

Toji’s eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as Mei Mei strutted toward them with her usual confidence. And, as if it were instinct, his gaze flickered past her, locking onto Y/n who was standing a distance away with Shoko. She looked good—too good, even in the simple outfit she had on. His cigarette paused mid-air as his eyes lingered just a little too long. He forced himself to focus back on Mei Mei when Gojo's voice rang out again, teasing.

"Yo, isn’t that Y/n’s friend?" Choso asked as he parked his bike and sauntered over to the group.

Toji straightened, keeping his face neutral, but he knew what was coming. Damn Gojo. The guy always had a knack for turning the spotlight on Toji when he least wanted it.

Mei Mei arrived, glancing around the group before her eyes settled on Toji, her usual cool demeanor not faltering even for a second. "So, Toji," she started, her voice casual but carrying an edge of curiosity. "You gonna tell me what’s the deal with you eyeing up Y/n everywhere, or what?"

The group erupted in laughter, Sukuna shaking his head as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Geto chuckled, leaning back against the wall with a knowing grin.

Toji took a slow drag from his cigarette, playing it off, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream. "What are you talking about?" he said smoothly, though his heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted briefly toward Y/n again—bad move.

Gojo was on it in a second.

"Ohhh, Toji’s playin’ dumb now, huh?" Gojo piped up with a smirk. "Come on, man. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you checking her out at every turn." He nudged Sukuna, who snickered beside him, still focused on rolling his joint.

"Maybe he’s just shy, y’know?" Geto added with mock seriousness, shooting a wink in Toji’s direction.

Toji shot Gojo a glare. Bastard. He tried to play it cool, leaning back against his car with a shrug, tapping the ashes of his cigarette. "You all got nothing better to do than gossip like high schoolers?"

"Hey, no judgment," Gojo teased, his grin widening. "I’m just saying, if you’re gonna keep staring, might as well make a move, man. Y/n’s right over there."

Toji felt his pulse quicken, but he wasn’t about to let Gojo get the satisfaction. "Fuck off," he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette as he side-eyed Gojo. The group continued to laugh, but Toji’s gaze inevitably drifted toward Y/n again.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n could feel eyes on her before she even looked up. The race had been exciting—chaotic, really—but now, standing with Shoko, she felt a different kind of tension hanging in the air. She glanced across the lot and saw Toji’s crew huddled together. Mei Mei had left her and Shoko, heading straight for the guys, her usual confident strut not faltering for a second.

"She’s gonna stir up trouble," Shoko muttered beside her, lighting a cigarette as they watched the scene unfold.

Y/n nodded, biting her lip. She could see it from a mile away—Mei Mei had a habit of stirring the pot. But that wasn’t what was really on her mind. It was him. Toji Zenin. Or was it Fushiguro? She still didn’t really know why he switched between the two names. Either way, there was something about him that she couldn’t shake.

She’d seen the way he looked at her—subtle, but not really. The way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the tension in his jaw when she passed by. And now, standing here, she could feel his eyes on her again, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him.

"What’s the deal with him anyway?" she asked Shoko, trying to sound nonchalant, though her heart was beating faster than usual.

Shoko took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling before answering. "Toji? He’s… complicated. Quiet, but intense. And those rumors—yeah, they're wild, but it’s mostly because he and the guys are street racers. They’ve got that whole ‘bad boy’ rep going on."

"Bad boy, huh?" Y/n murmured, trying to mask her curiosity.

Shoko turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "You’re curious, aren’t you?" she teased.

Y/n didn’t answer, her eyes now locked on Mei Mei, who had stopped right in front of Toji, clearly about to stir something up. She watched as Mei Mei pointedly asked him something—probably about her. Toji’s reaction was calm at first, but then the guys started laughing, Gojo especially, and Y/n could see Toji shift slightly, his body tensing.

"Here we go," Shoko said with a smirk, flicking her cigarette onto the ground.

Before Y/n could respond, Mei Mei turned, smirking slightly, and began walking back towards them. Y/n could feel her heart racing. What the hell had she said to him?

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gojo shift his stance, his usual grin replaced with something more mischievous. He turned toward her direction, eyes glinting with that playful arrogance he always carried, and called out loud enough for the entire group to hear as well as other surrounding groups.

"Y/n! Toji’s been checking you out all night—why don’t you give him a reason to stop pretending he’s not interested?"

The words hit her like a punch, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She caught Toji’s eyes for a split second, and his expression, usually so unreadable, flickered with something—frustration, maybe? Annoyance?

Y/n swallowed hard, her pulse skyrocketing. She didn’t know what to say or do. But then Toji moved so fast it was almost a blur—he grabbed Gojo by the collar, jerking him forward as if he was about to land a punch. Gojo, ever the jokester, just laughed, his smirk unfazed.

"Come on, man," Gojo grinned, still laughing. "I wouldn’t steal your girl... unless..." His smirk widened.

Toji didn’t hesitate. His fist swung, but Gojo dodged easily, still laughing as Toji’s temper flared.

Toji’s fingers still buzzed from nearly decking Gojo, the cigarette barely hanging from his lips as he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t usually this quick to react, but Gojo had hit a nerve tonight, pushing him to the brink.

He took a deep drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke left his lips, rolling his shoulders back, trying to cool off.

That’s when Mei Mei casually sauntered over, plucking the freshly rolled joint right out of Sukuna’s hand as if it was hers to take. Toji's eyes flickered toward her in mild annoyance, but Mei Mei simply ignored him, lighting up the joint and taking a long, deliberate pull. She tilted her head back, exhaling the smoke with an almost too-calm demeanor.

Then, without missing a beat, she pulled out her phone and texted something, her lips curling into a smirk as she glanced briefly at Toji before looking down at her phone again.

She sauntered over to Gojo, who was still smirking, watching Toji carefully from the corner of his eye. "Mr. Moneybags," Mei Mei said smoothly, locking eyes with him. "Tell your dad to call me."

Gojo groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Mei Mei, please leave my dad alone. I beg you."

She just laughed, a soft, almost musical sound, clearly enjoying the way Gojo’s eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We both know you like when I bother him, plus he is one of my sugar daddies" she teased.

Just then, Toji’s eyes snapped across the lot. Shoko was dragging Y/n, who was clearly resisting, toward their group. Y/n tugged against Shoko’s hold, but Shoko was relentless, her arm wrapped firmly around Y/n’s wrist. The closer they got, the more Toji could feel the tension building in his chest. He’d already been thrown off tonight, and now she was being pulled right into the middle of it.

He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he tried to play it off, taking another slow drag from his cigarette, acting like her presence didn’t throw his whole vibe off.

Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled from resisting Shoko, her eyes wide as she shot a pleading look toward her friend. Shoko, completely unfazed, kept dragging her forward until they were finally in the middle of the group. Geto, who's leaning casually against his car now, sizing up the situation, turned his gaze toward Shoko and smirked.

"Shoko," he drawled, eyeing her up. "You’re looking a little too good tonight."

Shoko didn’t even blink, shooting him a look of pure disgust. "Eww, bro, no," she replied flatly, which only made Geto laugh harder, shaking his head as he pulled out a cigarette of his own.

Then, Shoko turned on her heel, fixing her eyes on Mei Mei. "Cough it up," she demanded, crossing her arms. Mei Mei, still with the joint hanging loosely between her lips, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. She rummaged through her designer bag for a moment before pulling out the Jacquemus wallet that Shoko had been nagging her about for weeks.

Shoko snatched it from her with a satisfied smile, examining the sleek leather. "Finally," she muttered, tucking it into her own bag.

Geto leaned over, still smirking. "I could’ve gotten you something prettier," he said smoothly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shoko waved him off. "Geto, please shut up," she deadpanned, pulling out her own cigarette to light up.

But Toji’s focus had already shifted completely—Y/n was standing right there now, wearing just a skin-tight white tank top that clung to her every curve, paired with her jeans. His eyes lingered on her, muscles tensing beneath his wife-beater.

He’d ditched his jacket after the race, feeling the heat in more ways than one. But now, standing here, trying not to look directly at her? That was a challenge he wasn’t sure he could win.

And, of course, Gojo noticed. The guy lived to mess with him. The smirk on Gojo’s face widened when he saw how hard Toji was trying not to stare at Y/n.

"Well, well," Gojo said smoothly, sidling right up next to Y/n with that cocky confidence only he could pull off. He leaned in close, flashing her a playful grin. "Y/n, you know," he began, his voice low, dripping with amusement, "I always knew you had good taste. Hanging out with us, looking all... well, let’s just say you’re the highlight of the night."

Y/n couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped past her lips, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Gojo’s blatant flirting. He had that charm about him—so easy, so smooth. But at the same time, her eyes kept flicking over to Toji, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

Toji was pretending he didn’t hear it, trying to stay cool, but the cigarette between his fingers was burning faster than it should have been. He took another drag, slow and measured, trying to keep his expression neutral. But Gojo wasn’t letting up.

"You know," Gojo continued, now leaning even closer to Y/n, "you should really consider hanging out with us more often. I mean, I could show you a good time—better than some guys around here."

It was a direct jab at Toji, and Toji knew it. His eyes snapped up, locking onto Gojo with a dangerous glint. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot as he straightened up, his broad frame tense.

"Oi," Toji’s voice cut through the chatter, low and sharp. His eyes were focused, burning with a barely-contained fire as he looked directly at Gojo. "Back off."

Gojo laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Toji," he teased. "I’m just having a little fun."

Y/n felt the tension spike in the air, her heart racing. She hadn’t been sure what Toji’s reaction would be, but now it was clear. He was pissed.

Toji stepped closer, his eyes now on Y/n, ignoring Gojo completely. "You okay?" His voice was a little softer now, but there was still that edge to it.

Y/n nodded, though her pulse was racing. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, her voice a little breathless.

Toji’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to Gojo. "Stop messing around," he muttered, the warning clear in his tone.

Gojo just grinned, but this time, he took a step back, deciding to back off—for now.

Sukuna, who had been watching all this unfold with mild interest, finally spoke up, his voice lazy and amused. "Damn, Toji. Didn’t know you had it in you to get all protective."

Toji shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. His heart was still racing, his mind still half on the race, half on Y/n. But one thing was for sure—next time, Gojo wouldn’t be running his mouth so freely.

Toji’s POV:

Toji felt the air crackle with tension as Gojo leaned in closer to Y/n. He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. But before he could act on that impulse, Gojo piped up, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Come on, man, I won’t do that... unless..." He let the words hang, his smirk widening.

Toji reacted instinctively, grabbing Gojo by the collar and yanking him forward. “You really want to test me right now?” he growled, eyes blazing with barely-contained rage. Gojo just laughed, clearly enjoying the playful threat. “Chill out, I was just joking!” he wheezed, still chuckling as he pushed Toji away.

Meanwhile, Y/n turned to Shoko, a frown on her face. “How could you sell me out for a wallet?” she teased, shaking her head.

Shoko shrugged, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Two birds with one stone,” she replied, nudging Y/n gently.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about the whole ‘I’m getting a wallet’ plan!” Y/n protested, laughing.

Choso, who usually stayed quiet, chimed in unexpectedly, “So, Y/n, are you coming to my party later tonight?” His voice was casual, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “It’s 1 AM in the morning, Choso,” she replied, ready to decline.

“AND?” he shot back, not missing a beat.

Just as she opened her mouth to say no, Mei Mei cut in with a sly smile. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there.” Then she turned to Toji, that same playful grin lingering. “Including Y/n,” she added, her tone teasing.

Choso eagerly shared the details, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “It’s at my place—just a few blocks from here. Should be a good time.”

Geto leaned back against his car, his gaze fixed on Shoko. “How are you guys getting there?” he asked, his voice casual, though the excitement simmered just beneath the surface.

“I’ll drive,” Shoko replied, rolling her eyes at Geto’s obvious interest. He shot her a cheeky smile and a wink, which made her shake her head in exasperation.

“Alright, well, see you boys at the party!” Mei Mei said, leading the girls away, Y/n glancing back at Toji one last time before she was whisked away.

Toji kept his gaze locked on her as she walked away, a mixture of longing and frustration swirling inside him. But then he noticed her stop, and his heart dropped. Y/n greeted Hiromi with a hug, her smile wide as she wrapped her arms around his rival.

His blood boiled instantly, anger flaring through him. “Holy shit, she knows him?” Geto exclaimed, his surprise mirroring Toji’s internal turmoil.

Toji took a step forward, ready to pounce, fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell is she doing?” he muttered, unable to contain the rage that bubbled inside him.

“Wait,” Sukuna said sharply, grabbing Toji’s arm to hold him back. “Ask her at the party. Don’t make a scene here.”

Toji gritted his teeth, struggling to rein in his anger as he watched Y/n and Hiromi laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing within him.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n felt a wave of relief as she stepped away from Shoko, laughing at their playful banter about the wallet. But then she turned, and her heart did a little flip when she saw Choso looking her way. His friendly demeanor was hard to resist. “Are you coming to my party later tonight?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to decline, but then Mei Mei chimed in with her usual enthusiasm, and suddenly the idea of going didn’t seem so bad. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there,” Mei Mei said confidently.

The prospect of a party was tempting, and Y/n felt a rush of excitement. But just as she started to think it over, she caught sight of Toji. He was watching her intently, a storm brewing in those dark eyes of his. She had never seen him look so intense, and it made her heart race.

When she hugged Hiromi, she was blissfully unaware of the tension spiraling around Toji. His arms were so familiar, and she felt safe in his embrace. They laughed about something that had happened during their last encounter, completely lost in their own little world.

But when she pulled away, she felt the weight of someone’s gaze burning into her back. It was Toji. She turned slightly and caught his eye, but the moment didn’t last long. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and it made her stomach twist in an odd mix of excitement and unease.

Then she noticed the anger flaring in Toji’s expression, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at Hiromi. She realized then that she might have unintentionally stepped into the middle of something brewing between the two.

“Hey, Y/n,” Hiromi said, his voice smooth. “You got plans after this?”

“Yeah, heading to a party apparently. I'll see you around!” she replied, trying to keep the conversation light as she pulled away from him.

As she walked back toward Shoko and Mei Mei, she glanced over her shoulder at Toji, who was still watching her. The expression on his face was intense—almost possessive, and it made her wonder about the undercurrents she sensed between them. What did it mean that he seemed so affected by her interactions with Hiromi?

The tension in the air felt electric, and as they headed off toward the party, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated between her and Toji.

[miffysrambles]

Can I have wukong, macaque and nezha with a s/o who borrows their stuff (cloak, jacket, etc.)?

Wukong And Macaque WIth An S/O Who Borrows Their Stuff

(Sorry, unfortunately, I am not comfortable doing romantic scenarios with Nezha but I can do platonic!)

Wukong:

Wukong walked into the bedroom you two shared to see you sleeping in his hoodie he used to visit in the city.

His heart practically exploded seeing the bulky fabric drape over your body as you hugged his pillow in your deep slumber.

This wasn’t the first time you had stolen his hoodie, although he didn’t really mind cause he didn’t wear it often. 

He walked over to the nest of the bed as he laid down with you, pressing gentle kisses on your forehead as he pulled you close to him. 

You slowly stirred awake as you were met with your boyfriend’s smug face grinning down at you.

“What’cha got there peaches, that hoodie looks mighty familiar!” He laughed softly at his own words, his tail thumping against the mattress. 

You smiled up at him as you countered his words, “Yeah, because it’s mine.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

He let out a pretend scoff as he dramatically looked off to the side while crossing his arms, “Well I never! First, you steal my heart, and now you steal my precious hoodie?”

You laughed at his antics as he pressed loving kisses all over your face, burying you both into the mess of the bedsheets as he kept his arms wrapped around you. 

“Well, I guess you can wear it IF you let me cuddle with you while you do.” He winked down at you as his tail snaked around your leg to show how close he wanted to be with you at that moment.

You nodded with vigor, of course you wanted that!

You both settled back down as he wrapped the blankets around the both of you, kissing your forehead as you lay on his chest and went back into a deep sleep.

Macaque:

You like to steal his scarf when it gets really cold outside, but you’ll even wear it inside just to tease him.

Like one time Macaque was looking around the dojo before he was about to leave, “Hey sweet cheeks have you seen my–”

He was cut off by walking into the small kitchen to see you cooking lunch for the both of you, nuzzling your face into the worn-down red piece of fabric. 

He grinned fondly at you as he walked up to you from behind, surprising you as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, “Is that my scarf you’re wearing dove?”

You smiled as you nodded, hearing his tail thump against the wood flooring showing how flustered he actually was, “Yeah, sorry it’s comfy.”

He chuckled as he kissed your cheek, “Don’t be, you look cute wearing it. Although, I kinda need it back.”

You smirked as you turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter, putting down the knife you were using to cut some fruit as you gripped the scarf.

“I’m not letting go anytime soon, it’s my scarf now.”

Oh, you were going to play this game?

Alright, he could go along with this.

He grinned as he used a shadow portal, chuckling through the shadows as you protested.

“Hey, that’s cheating!”

“I wasn’t told any rules sweetheart!” His voice echoed through the kitchen, making your head turn around to follow it.

He used your shadow as he pulled the scarf off your neck, laughing as you pouted.

He kissed your cheek as he jumped out of the portal while putting his scarf back on, “Don’t worry sugarplum, I’ll be back before you know it, and the scarf is all yours again. Promise.”

[flowerxbunnie]

hiyaaaa :)))

request : y/n and matt are friends, they both have craaaazzyyy sexual tension that they’ve been denying. one night after finally coming to terms w it, they play strip poker to see who caves first. (idc who caves first, bc ik id be folding like origami!!) then they get reallll nasty and YOU MUST include what we talked ab 😈😈 i’m begging on my knees, i need that witchcraft

Strip For Me

Matt x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT. Friends to lovers, strip poker, spit, etc etc etc

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

super long! like 5000 words oops

Matt’s POV

“UNO!” Chris yells, making all of us jump in our chairs. “MATT DIDN’T CALL IT!”

I huff as I throw my card onto the table, losing yet another game of Uno against Y/n, Nick, and Chris.

“Poor Matty, you literally always forget to call it. It’s too easy.” Y/n laughs, throwing her head back and squeezing her eyes shut.

Game night never fails to piss me off. Chris is too competitive, I swear Nick cheats and changes rules without telling anyone, and Y/n thinks it’s so funny when I lose.

“You better watch it,” I tease, glaring at her from across the table.

“Oh yeah, or what?” she bites back while narrowing her eyes.

Nick and Chris exchange looks and then look between the two of us. I stand up and make my way around to her chair, pulling it out from under the table.

“What are you doing??” she drops her cards and pulls her legs to her chest, interlocking her fingers around them so she’s curled into a ball.

I slip an arm around her thighs and the other around her back and pick her up. Her grip breaks and she’s fighting and thrashing while calling me every name under the sun. I can’t contain my laughter as I carry her to the couch, throwing her down onto a pile of pillows and blankets.

“MATTHEW NO!” she kicks and screams, already knowing what’s coming.

“You asked for it,” I chuckle out and start tickling her stomach.

Her gorgeous giggle echoes through the room and soon enough all four of us are gasping for air in a fit of laughter.

“Matt PLEASE…. ple- MATT!!” she can barely get her words out, her eyes watering and her arms clutched over her stomach.

“You think that’s gonna stop me?” I grab her hands and sit in a straddle position over her legs, pinning her arms above her head with one of my hands.

“Nick, get your fucking brother!” she yells as she tries to wiggle out from under my grasp.

“I have no involvement in this,” Nick says throwing his hands up and laughing.

“Don’t even ask me, I’m not getting caught in a tickle fight,” Chris says before gathering all the cards and shuffling them.

I do my best evil smile down at her before bringing my free hand to hover just between her armpit and ribcage, her most ticklish spot, and wiggling my fingers right above her skin.

“Should I do itttt?” I say in a singsong voice, inching my hand closer and closer.

“Pleaseeee don’t! Matt I’m begging!” She whines, her eyes flicking up to look at me through her lashes.

She gives up her squirming and fighting and just bats her eyes at me. It feels like time stopped. I’m sitting on top of my best friend, arms pinned above her head with those eyes that scream “please fuck me.”

Maybe the feelings aren’t as mutual as I think, but if I was given the opportunity I would jump on her so fucking fast. There’s a tension when we’re around each other that I can almost feel.

“Matt! Get off of me dickhead!” She slaps my arm and snaps me out of whatever trance I was in.

“Next time keep your little remarks to yourself, I win more than you do anyway.” I laugh as I stand up and walk back to my spot at the table.

“That’s just objectively wrong.” She says as she pulls herself up and follows behind me before pulling her chair back up to the table.

“Gotta agree with Y/n. Matt’s just a sore loser.” Nick says as he stands up and stretches his arms above his head. “I’m tired as fuck, I’m going to sleep. Please don’t break anything down here.” He begs as he walks off to his room.

“I’ll play a couple more and then I’m gonna hit the hay too,” Chris yawns as he deals out the next round of cards.

I grab my stack and look up to see Y/n’s gaze already locked onto mine wearing a look I can’t quite read. Just as quickly as our eyes lock she looks back down like nothing happened.

Y/n’s POV

“Goodniiiight!” I yell out to Chris as he walks off to his room.

He throws his hand up in a wave without turning back and I wait until I hear his door shut. I turn back to look at Matt in his spot across the table, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong, someone doesn’t know how to take a loss?” I ask in a mockingly sweet voice.

“It’s not even fucking fair, you guys cheat and then act like I’m sooo bad at the game.” He drops his hands and looks up at me.

He’s so fucking hot when he’s all worked up and angry, and it’s so easy to push his buttons. I still can’t seem to shake the weird feeling I got after he threw me on the couch earlier. He literally picked me up like I weighed nothing. And looking up at him while his chain dangled over my face made my stomach twist into knots. I’ve always thought Matt was attractive, it’s hard not to. I swear I even catch him looking at me sometimes. But he’s my best friend and I can’t jeopardize that, who knows if he even feels the same? For all I know he could think of me like a sister and I’m just overthinking everything.

But for some reason I decide to keep pushing him tonight.

“Maybe you’re just not good? It’s okay to admit it.” I shrug and start putting all the cards back into the box.

His hands hit the table and when I look up at him his face is filled with annoyance.

“I can literally beat you at any other game.”

“I doubt it Matty. It’s okay though!” I smile and try to hold in my laughter.

He stays silent for a good 30 seconds while I take the box of cards back to the bookshelf. When I come back to the table to grab my phone he stands up and leans onto the table, the muscles in his arms flexing underneath the light above us.

“What about poker? You know how to play?” He asks, his voice low and raspy.

“Do you know who you’re talking to? Of course I know how to play,” I answer, sitting back in my seat instead of retreating upstairs like I had planned. “It wouldn’t even be fair to you honestly.”

He scoffs, turning around to go to the bookshelf. He moves a few items around before grabbing a deck of playing cards and walks back to the table. He tosses the box down and it slides across the table before it stops in front of me.

“I think I’m pretty good too,” he starts, sitting in his chair and leaning back, “I mean I can think of a few things that would make it worth playing..”

My heart jumps in my chest because I know exactly what he’s going to say.

“Have you ever played strip poker?”

I try to keep my cool but I can feel my cheeks burning at the thought of undressing in front of Matt.

“No.. not yet anyway,” I try to answer back as nonchalant as possible, like he has no effect on me.

“So you’re in? You can say no if you want.” His voice softens a bit, but the look in his eyes remains just as dark as before.

“Are you dealing the cards or am I?” I huff as I grab the box and rip it open.

A smirk spreads across his face as he nods his head in my direction. I shuffle the cards and try to keep my hands as steady as possible but they’re definitely shaking. I deal us five cards each and sit the deck in the middle of the table between us.

We both pick up our cards and look over them. I already have a pair of 5’s and an ace, so I lay down the other two and draw two from the deck. Matt lays one card down and draws one. I look up from my hand to see Matt smirking, his slender fingers tapping against the edge of his cards.

“3.. 2.. 1..” He speaks slowly.

We both lay our cards down; I have my pair of 5’s and ended up getting a pair of aces. Matt has four 8’s. Fuck.

“Go ahead.” He sits back in his chair and bites the inside of his cheek with a grin.

I stand up and decide to tease just a little bit. I run my hands down my sides and grab at the hem of my sweatshirt, pulling it up ever so slightly to show the skin of my stomach. His eyes widen and watch my every move.

“Uh, y-you don’t have to start with your shirt,” he says while readjusting in his chair.

“I know. But I want to..” I say in a seductive voice while slowly pulling my shirt up.

I bring it all the way over my head and toss it revealing the tank top I have on underneath before I sit back down giggling.

He relaxes and I hear him let out a breath before grabbing the cards and shuffling them. “I’ll deal this hand.”

After he deals five cards each and we go through the process of throwing some out and redrawing, we lay down the next set. Matt has nothing, which shocks me because he really didn’t seem too stressed. I have a pair of queens.

“Your turnnnn.” I say with a big grin.

He reaches under the table and comes back up with his socks, tossing them somewhere off into the living room.

“Not fair,” I pout, bringing the cards into a pile.

“Socks are clothes, no?” He chuckles and pushes his hair out of his face.

We go through the next few rounds stripping off whatever we could that didn’t feel too risky. Rings, bracelets, watches. We both have nothing left to take off besides the big hitters. I’m dealing the next hand and I say a silent prayer to myself that Matt takes the first big loss.

I have a 5, 6, jack, 8, and 9. I decide I want to risk throwing the jack away to try for a straight. Matt tosses three of his and I try to gauge his reaction. Again, nothing at all but a blank stare. I hope I’m doing just as well with my poker face.

We both lay our cards out. I didn’t end up getting the straight, but I drew a king. Matt doesn’t have anything either so we’re forced to go for who has the highest card.

“I have a queen! Get to it,” he says smugly while interlocking his fingers behind his head and sitting back.

I almost open my mouth to tell him that a king is worth more than a queen, but the anticipation is getting to be too much for me. Watching him as he stares at me from across the table, seeing his long fingers gripping his cards, his smirks, his hair falling over his eyes as he concentrates on his next move. It’s been doing something to me, and I’ve had a heat growing between my thighs for a while now. Why not let him think he won this one and speed things up a bit?

“Damn it!” I say in the most convincing voice of annoyance that I could muster.

I stand up from my seat and watch as his eyes follow along, glazed over and half lidded. I hook my fingers into the elastic band of my sweatpants and slowly pull them to the floor, my light purple lace underwear now on full display. I turn around on purpose and toss my pants over the back of the couch, bouncing on my feet a little to make my ass jiggle. I hear him let out a breath and look over at him as he sits up straighter in his chair.

“Nice panties.” he says in a flat voice, trying to play cool as if I can’t see the half chub in his jeans.

“Thanks.” I reciprocate his energy and sit back down, the cold metal against my legs giving me chills.

We go through the motions again, eyeing each other for any signs of hesitation before laying our next set down. I have a full house, three 4’s and two aces. Matt has a pair of 7’s.

He huffs and scoots his chair back, starting to pull up his shirt.

“Uh uh! Stand up, it’s part of the rules,” I tease.

“You and Nick with your random rule changes.” He shakes his head but stands anyway, lifting his shirt over his head.

His toned stomach flexes as he throws it. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. I’ve been to the pool with them, spent days at the beach- hell, even just him walking around the house. But with all the tension in the room I can’t help but stare a little harder. I move my eyes down to his happy trail and I have to bite my lip as I feel myself getting wet at the sight of him. He sits back down and shoots a knowing grin my way while shuffling the cards again.

The next round is played out and we’re getting ready to show our sets. I already know I’m fucked because I have absolutely nothing, but I really don’t care about the game at this point. We both lay out our cards and peer across the table.

Matt has a set of four. He keeps his head down and looks up at me through his brows, his bottom lip between his teeth.

I stand up and grab a strap from my tank top, slipping it down my shoulder. I hold eye contact and I swear I can see his pupils dilating and constricting like crazy. I grab the other strap and slip it down my other shoulder, my own fingertips giving me goosebumps with how slow I’m going in order to tease him. I pull them both back up and slide my hands down to the hem, pulling it up my abdomen slowly. His eyes dart up my body and he adjusts himself in his pants. I swear I could become addicted to the way his eyes soak me in.

My heart is nearly beating out of my chest as I pull the fabric over my breasts, making sure to hold it tight against me so they bounce as they fall out. I pull it the rest of the way over my head and let it fall to the floor before moving back to my seat.

“Holy shit, I… I thought you were wearing a bra,” he stutters out, “not that I’m complaining because… I just thought the game would.. holy fuck they’re perfe-”

“Hmm, thanks Matthew.” I say cutting him off.

He gulps and nods before wiggling in his seat. He grabs the deck and starts to shuffle them, cards flying out every now and again and his cheeks burning a bright red color. I can’t help but grow even wetter watching the effect I have on him just from taking my top off.

He gets the cards situated and starts dealing them out, his eyes flicking up to my chest every now and again as he tries to keep his focus. I pick up my hand and somehow I have six cards. I look over and he has four. I let out a soft giggle and hold my cards up.

“We’re supposed to have 5 each, Matty.”

“Oh shit. Sorry.”

He adds another card to his hand and I grab one of mine to hand back to him. My fingers brush against his and I swear my entire body pulses.

He suddenly sits his cards down and pushes himself to his feet, his chair making a scratching sound across the floor as it pushes back. He runs his fingers along the table as he makes his way to my side. He stands next to me and I crane my neck up to look at him, his eyes full of hunger.

“How about we call off the game?” He asks in a whisper as his hand reaches up to swipe a thumb across my bottom lip. “I can’t concentrate with you sitting here like this across from me.”

I gasp as the tip of his thumb enters my mouth, pressing down on my tongue before pulling it back out.

“Thought you’d never ask,” I whisper back, turning towards him as I stand up, running my hands up his chest along the way.

I glide my hands over his collarbones before wrapping my arms around his neck, loosely intertwining my fingers behind his head. His fingertips softly graze my waist, my skin on fire under his touch. He brings his forehead down to meet mine, our eyes locked on one another as we breathe in sync.

“I need to hear you say it.” he whispers as his hands settle on my hips.

“Say what, Matthew?”

“That you’re okay with this. That you want it as much as I do.”

“I want it Matt, I have for a long time.”

His breath shudders and he pulls me closer, his erection throbbing against my thigh. He disconnects our foreheads, pulling back to look from my eyes to my lips and back up.

“I need you in my room,” he breathes out before looping his arms around my thighs and picking me up. His hands are teasingly close to my ass as he walks to his room, shutting and locking the door with one hand before letting me down in front of his bed.

Without warning his hands are gripping my face and he slams his lips against mine. Everything else ceases to exist as our tongues swirl together, our bodies so close together we almost feel like one person. His hands slide down from my face to my jaw, then to my throat causing me to let a moan escape into his lips. He hums in response and adds a little pressure, and my knees feel like they could buckle and give up on me. This feels so naughty, my best friend touching me in all the places I’ve wanted him to for so long.

I pull away from the kiss and drop to my knees in front of him, placing kisses down the hot skin of his stomach. I lick a stripe up his happy trail and his eyes bore into me as I undo his button and zipper. I slide his jeans down and they pool around his ankles before he kicks them off. I run my nails up and down his thighs, watching as his body reacts and his dick twitches under the fabric of his boxers. I trail my hands up, running my palm across his hard length before wrapping my hand around it and hearing him sigh my name under his breath.

His eyes are blown out with need, the blue irises barely visible. He reaches down and places his hand over my own, tightening my grip around his cock and moving my hand back and forth.

“You drive me fucking crazy, Y/n.” He groans and starts rocking his hips against my hand.

“Yeah? Do something about it then.” I say and move my other hand to start pulling his boxers down.

He lets out a moan at my words, throwing his head back a bit as his cock springs up in front of my face.

He grips my chin and tilts my head up, bucking his hips forward so his length rubs across my face. I stick my tongue out as he brings it back down, feeling the veins that run all the way to his tip. I open my mouth to take only his head in, sucking lightly and keeping my head still. I grip my hand around his base and pull him back out of my mouth, kitten licking the underside of his head, eliciting a shaky breath from him as he brings his hands to wrap into my hair.

“Such a fucking tease,” he draws out.

I just smile and move my tongue all the way to the base and flatten my tongue, licking all the way up and kissing the his tip. I continue teasing him for a minute or two, loving the beautiful sounds that fall past his lips. I can tell he wanted nothing more than to shove his dick down my throat, but Matt is too much of a gentleman for that.

I take his entire length into my mouth, his head touching my uvula and making me gag around him. He sucks in sharply and his fingers tighten around the roots of my hair. I keep going, bobbing my head back and forth and hollowing my cheeks around him. He lightly thrusts into my mouth, matching my speed. His jaw hangs slack and he starts panting as his dick becomes incredibly hard, twitching and throbbing in my mouth. He pulls my head back and my mouth makes a popping sound around his head.

“Fuck, almost made me finish in your mouth baby. You just look so pretty with your lips wrapped around me.” he says as he strokes my hair.

He grabs my hands and pulls me to my feet, bringing his hands to my panties and pulling at them, almost a silent way of saying he needs them off. I help him get them down and he picks me up, his dick brushing against my core in the process which sends sparks through my body. He tosses me onto his bed, standing over me and taking in the sight like he’s the first man that discovered fire.

“So beautiful.” He whispers as he crawls up the bed over me, leaving kisses up both my legs and stomach, all the way up to my breasts. “Always knew you had perfect tits.”

He places a wet, warm kiss on each nipple, watching as they harden up from the stimulation. He brings his tongue to my left one and flicks it up and down and I can’t help but let out a little whine. He circles his tongue around it and looks up at me before sucking on it softly. He moves his attention to the other one and repeats his actions, but my pussy is begging for his mouth to be there instead.

“Matt, please…” I whimper out, grabbing his head and pushing down so he’ll get the hint.

“Please what?” He smirks, softly nipping and licking at the skin on my ribcage.

“N-need to feel your face between my legs,” I blush. It feels so strange to finally be able to say these things out loud.

He scoots down the bed and settles between my legs, spreading them apart and kissing his way from my knee to my upper thigh.

“So wet for your best friend, you dirty girl.” He says before placing a kiss onto my clit, my body jolting and a soft moan escaping my lips.

His narrows his tongue and runs it up and down my folds lightly before flattening it out and adding pressure, licking from the bottom to the top.

“Such a little slut letting me taste you like this. It’s so wrong..” he trails off before continuing his actions.

His words twist my stomach into knots. He’s right, I know deep down that it’s so wrong to be doing this with my best friend while his brothers are asleep in the house. But it feels so fucking good, so right.

I rake my fingers through his hair and push it back off his forehead, just taking in the sight of him working to please me. He dips down a little and sticks his tongue into my entrance, swirling it in circles as I start to clench around him.

“F-fuck.. feels so good,” I moan and buck my hips towards him, tightening my grip in his hair and pushing his tongue deeper into me.

He hums and flicks his tongue around making sure to touch every single spot he can get. He brings his thumb to my clit and sticks the rough pad of it against me, applying pressure and rubbing delicious circles.

Before I know it I am coming undone on Matt’s face, my orgasm ripping through my body unexpectedly. I cry out his name as my legs shake and tighten around his head. I’m pulling on his hair hard enough for him to let out a groan of pain, but he continues and lets me ride out my high, pulling back and breathing heavily after I relax onto the bed.

He moves up and hovers above me, his face glistening with the evidence of my orgasm. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes still dark and needy.

“You feel better now, princess? Got to cum all over your best friend’s face. God, you’re such a bad girl.”

“Mmm, don’t act like you didn’t want it just as bad as me, Matty.” I say between lazy kisses, tasting myself on his lips.

“Never said I didn’t, sweetheart.”

He grabs my legs and pushes them up, hooking both of them around his shoulders. He runs his tip through my folds, coating himself in my juices that have mixed with his saliva. His breath shudders as he pushes in slowly, not because he wants to, but because he’s so big that I’m having trouble taking him.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, easing in millimeters at a time.

“F-fuck Matt, I don’t know if I’m gonna be able to take it all.” I wince as he stretches me out.

“You will. Give it time baby. I’ll make it fit.”

He leans his head down and lets a string of spit fall onto my clit, dripping down and settling where we meet. He pulls back out only to push in further, and my stomach tenses up at the pain. He shoots me a sympathetic look, but it only lasts a second before his eyes get that hungry look again and he’s smirking down at me.

“Poor girl, I just know you’re never gonna be able to find anyone who can make you feel like I’m about to.”

Without warning he pushes all the way in, pain and pleasure coursing through my body as he steadily begins pumping in and out. His hands grip my legs and I bring mine to his chest, clawing and scratching instinctively to relieve some of the pain.

“M-matt, fuck..” I cry out, my eyes rolling back as he pounds into me so deep I swear I can feel him in my stomach.

“Look at that pretty face, all for me.” He praises.

The pain slowly starts subsiding, dopamine flooding my bloodstream as my body starts to feel intense amounts of pleasure. I’m a mess, eyes watering and my nails leaving him bloody. It feels animalistic, we’re fucking as if it’s all we know to do.

“Open your mouth.” He growls, his entire demeanor dark and sadistic.

I oblige, opening my mouth and sticking my tongue out. He spits onto it and moves a hand to my chin, closing it and holding it shut.

“Swallow it.”

I do as I’m told and he slaps my cheek lightly, moving his hand back to my leg and gripping with white knuckles.

My body is overwhelmed with all the sensations, my head is swimming and my breathing is rapid. I feel the same feeling igniting in my stomach, so close to the edge I can taste it.

He pulls out suddenly, grabbing his cock and jerking it with his head thrown back before he releases his hot cum onto my pussy.

“Touch yourself with it,” he demands, slinging my legs apart and onto the bed.

I immediately bring my hand down to my clit without second thought, using two fingers to rub back and forth. I bring my other hand and insert a finger into my entrance, pushing his own release into myself. He watches intently as I use his cum as lubrication to send myself toppling over the edge. My legs shake and my back arches, my orgasm taking control and waves of pleasure crashing over and over until my energy is spent.

He falls down on top of me, his head on my chest as we catch our breath together. I can feel my pulse from head to toe, my heart beating like crazy along with his own.

•••

I open my eyes and the sun is shining through the blinds casting a beam directly on my face. I stretch a little and look over and smile as I see Matt tucked underneath the comforter beside me.

I don’t remember anything after we fucked last night, so I guess we passed out.

I open my phone to check for notifications, my heart dropping as I open the group chat between myself and the triplets.

Nick: 1 attachment

Nick: What is this…?!

I click the photo and my eyes widen. It’s an overview of the living area, clothes and jewelry strewn about with a messy set of cards on the table.

I lock my phone and stuff it under my pillow quickly, trying to convince myself I never saw it.

I flip over and cuddle up to Matt, throwing my arm over his stomach and laying my head on his chest.

We can deal with all that later.

[savagebite]

Toxic cod headcanons

Tw: everyone is an asshole in this. there’s honestly just overall all kinds of abuse. This is however, just fantasy. Ooc to, honestly they’d never act like this realistically this again is just fantasy/a kink. Dead dove do not eat

Price

-He’s an old fashion kind of guy, so he reinforces a lot of old fashion stereotypes. At first it’s simply making him meals when he comes home, to doing the dishes. But it slowly turns into you quitting your job and becoming his house wife/husband/partner and then beatings

-his hits aren’t to hard, but hard enough to bruise you. It’s mostly smacks, but if you fuck up really bad it’s punches.

-His rules are strict, to the point you almost don’t have much freedom. Again, it starts slowly to simplying knowing your password to you having limited access to your own phone at all.

-As you can tell, he’s controlling, your his wife/husband that is your responsibility, anything else is unnecessary. To him at least

Soap/johnny

A genuine asshole, straight up drugs you. He’s so bad at talking about his emotions that if your mad at him he’ll slip you something in your meal or drink and takes you to bed.

Doesn’t use his hands to hurt you, but instead uses his words.

He often manipulates you, rejecting any bad behavior he had done with a simple “that didn’t happen” since again, he hates any negative interaction.

Ghost/simon

Doesn’t mean to be abusive but when he gets drunk it’s all out of the window, after his best friend dies it gets worse

Beats you, takes any anger he feels out on you with his fists and it leaves you with bruises and marks. Surprisingly never broke any of your bones, has sprained your wrist however.

Apologies right after, he feels incredibly guilty. But you know he doesn’t mean it! He can’t help it! You forgive him? Aw, what would he do without you.

Threatens to do incredibly horrible things to himself if you leave so you’re kinda stuck with him.

Gaz

From what I’ve seen in the games he’s quick to anger, and I think that would show in your relationship

He’s quick to get on your case, jumping from one to another to throw you off. “How’s that guy you were with? Were you CHEATING? Bet you love taking his cock huh?”

Speaking of cheating, is incredibly jealous just in general. Don’t expect to have a lot of friends for long. He refuses to let you go to any parties unless he comes with you.

He’s smart tho, (have you seen him in the game?) so he’ll play on small insecurities just to keep you around. He’ll comment on how you look, how you do your hair, anything to get you to feel so self conscious you stay

A lot of verbal abuse and manipulation, I don’t see Gaz as a person to hit

[gators-aid]

decode (pt. 3) - toji f. x reader

masterlist

part two | part four

previously titled: leave us

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, cheating, underage (mentions they have sex, but nothing explict, toji and reader are high school freshmen), mentioned eating disorder (not really a disorder, reader just forgets to eat, tag is just in case), mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 3.4k

You had met Toji in your first year of high school at some house party. Some sophomore that Utahime knew was throwing it, giving the two of you an in. 

You and Utahime had been dancing on the dude’s couch, bottles in hand. You had never really drank before, but you made sure to keep yourself aware enough to get the two of you home by the end of the night. Your house was a fifteen minute walk from here, and your plan was to sneak the two of you through your window before three. 

That’s when you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to some girl. Just by his looks, you thought he might have been a couple years above you. He was tall, taller than most guys in the house, and definitely more muscular. You were immediately attracted, Utahime giggled at you once she saw where you were looking. “You should go talk to him!” She slurred, still moving to the sound of the music with you. 

“Seems like he’s got his hands busy.” You whisper-yelled over the music. He had them all over that girl.

“Utahime!” You heard from below the two of you. Hakari, the guy whose house this was (and your future coworker), held on to her hand as she almost stumbled over to look down at him. “We’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven! Y’all wanna come?” 

“That’s fucking corny!” Utahime giggled, “Let’s go, Y/N!” The two of you followed in a straight line behind Hakari to a relatively empty, but still extremely loud hallway. You all sat down in a circle with a group of students you didn’t recognize. 

“Hey, you guys weren’t gonna start the fun without us, right?” You hear from behind you. It’s the guy from earlier. He pushes his hair (you think it's black, but can’t tell from the lighting) back and takes a swig of a beer bottle. The girl from earlier is with him, along with another guy you didn’t recognize. 

“Toji, let us use that bottle. Hakari broke the other one!” One guy yells over the music. “Thought this was seven minutes in heaven,” A girl with stark white hair begins, “You don’t need a bottle for that game.” 

“Too much work to write everyone’s names down, there’s a bunch of freshmen here. I don’t know them.” Hakari responds. 

“Scoot over!” The tall guy, Toji, yells at you over the music, and you do. Allowing his group of three to squeeze in next to you. Utahime giggles and leans over your lap to address him. “Hey!” She yells, almost falling over your lap. “What’s your name? My friend Y/N-”

“I’ll go first!” you yell, hoping to silence her before she can say anything embarrassing.

“Wheeeew look at the brave young freshman!” Hakari yells. “Hey, what’s your name again?” You ignore him and spin the bottle. 'Damn,' you think, 'I’m actually going to have to go into a closet with someone after this.' You just wanted to interrupt Utahime. 

It lands on some guy you don't recognize.

“Wee woo wee woo!” Hakari yells, mocking a police siren. “New rule, freshman and senior pairings will not be allowed! Go again!” he yells at you. The group bursts out laughing as you grab the bottle to spin again. 

The bottle spins and spins until it lands on… the girl that Toji was making out with earlier. She makes a face and looks at you. “I’m not into girls, sorry!” She yells. 

“I am!” Utahime announces to the group. 

“What the hell, Takako, you have such a dirty mind!” Hakari says. You can feel Toji eyeing you. It’s slightly unsettling. “Seven minutes in heaven does not imply romantic or sexual advances!” 

She scoffs, “Then why didn’t you let her go in there with Kenjaku?” You’re doing everything you can to avoid Toji’s gaze. Seriously, what was this dude’s problem? Was there something on your face? Did your makeup come off to reveal the big ass pimple on your cheek? Shit, you knew you should’ve used more setting spray.

“Because it’s my duty to protect the young women attending my party, Takako! Better safe than sorry.” 

Suddenly, you see a hand go down to the bottle and tilt it slightly. It’s Toji, and he’s pointed the bottle directly at himself. “Well, would you look at that! Seems like the bottle has mysteriously landed on me and not Takako!” He yells over the music. 

You take this time to finally look him in the face. From this close, you notice the scar on the side of his lip, his piercing green eyes. 

“But…” you say, confused, “they said no seniors and freshmen.” 

The group bursts into laughter. “Don’t know if I should be offended or not.” He says. 

“He’s in our year, Y/N!” Utahime exclaims, “He’s in my algebra class, I couldn’t remember his name though…” 

“Wait, this isn’t how it works!” Takako says, panicked. Now that you’ve already looked at Toji, you can see her arm locked into his, she’s yelling into the group’s circle. 

“The bottle lands where it lands!” Toji says, throwing his arms up. “Come on, mama,” he starts, untangling from Takako. “We got seven minutes.”

He grabs your arm and leads you to the hall closet. You can hear whoops and whistles from behind you, but you don’t know if it’s from your small group or from the rest of the party goers. 

He turns the light on, and the two of you push back winter coats to make room in the closet. He closes the door behind the two of you. For a moment he’s quiet. He just looks at you. “You’re really pretty.” He says, leaning against the door, a little too cockily for a high school freshman. 

“Thanks.” You say quietly. It’s a little less loud in the closet, music muffled by the bundle of winter coats. “Is um.. Is Takako your girlfriend or something?”

He laughs, “Why do you ask?” 

“Because it’s pretty fucked up if you took me in here with her sitting right out there.” 

He smiles. “Nah.” He says, leaning closer to you. “She’s not.” 

You can feel his breath on your face, and smell his cologne from here. It’s a little strong, you can smell the beer in his breath too. “She’s into you though,” you say. He leans closer and you put your hand gently on his chest. Your lips are millimeters apart. “That was kinda mean,” He laughs again. “To be really, really honest, I don’t give a fuck about her.” 

“That's really mean.” You respond, and suddenly your lips are on each other. This isn’t your first kiss, but Toji makes it feel like it is. You two grasp onto each other desperately, hold onto each other like you’ve known each other for years, like he’s a long lost love. 

It doesn’t escalate from there, you two just kiss and kiss and kiss. 

You don’t notice how long it’s been until you hear a knock on the door. Toji pulls away from your face and rests his forehead on yours. “Damn.” He says, licking his lips. 

That night, Toji had offered to drive you and Utahime home. You had spent the last couple hours at the party together, you continued drinking while Toji refrained, wanting to drive you home. 

He had helped you sneak Utahime into your bedroom. In your time spent with Toji, you hadn’t noticed her drinking more and more, so by the time you got her into Toji’s car, she was passed out cold. 

You had held Utahime in your arms as Toji climbed into your window and pulled her through. You climbed in after. 

“Thank you so much.” You said to him as the two of you lay her in your bed. “You’re seriously a life saver.” 

“It’s no problem, anything for a pretty lady like you.” You rolled your eyes. 

He climbed back out your window, turning around to face you one more time before you left. You lent onto your window sill and smiled at him. “I’ll see you on Monday?” you asked. He smiled back. “I’ll see you then.” He lent up and kissed you on the lips once more before turning back around and walking to his truck. 

You did see him on Monday. And almost every Monday after. 

You and Toji became incredibly close incredibly fast. Toji clung to you for affection, you clung to him for attention. You sat together at lunch everyday. He’d buy you Cokes from the overpriced vending machine and you’d invite him into your bedroom everytime it got to be too much at home. You guys never officially started dating, it just seemed like it happened overnight. 

He never came over during the day. You were too nervous to tell your mother and he was too nervous to meet her. 

She didn’t know you even had a boyfriend until Toji cheated on you. Not the best introduction. You were working late at the diner, you often did on weekends to speed up the process of your college fund. It was Shoko who had told you. 

She, Geto, and Gojo had come to the diner after leaving a party. They were all clearly a little tipsy, so one of the older servers had passed them off onto you. “I’m not dealing with definitely-not-drunk teenagers at this time of night. I’m ready to go home.” 

“Oh my god! I know you! You’re Y/N! We’re in the same government class!” Geto slurred. You smiled at him. “How are you guys doing? You go to Hakari’s party?” You asked.

“Yeah! It was really fun, but Gojo’s curfew is at one so we gotta get him sobered up.” Geto supplied.

“Hey, Y/N, are you still with Toji? I see you too together alllllll the time at school.” Gojo slurred. You laughed. “Kind of.” You and Toji had gotten into an argument that afternoon. Toji was going to that same party, and you, having to work, couldn’t go with. Somehow, it turned into an argument about who does more for who. You weren’t broken up, and you weren’t on a break, but you were both certainly angry with each other. 

“Ohhhh what the fuck?” Gojo said, looking wide-eyed at his friends. They all looked between each other, clearly confused and talking to each other through their facial expressions. 

“Uhh, Y/N, can you just get us some waters, and can you get Gojo like an omelet or some shit?” Shoko says. “Uhh yeah! Of course!” 

“No mushrooms!” Gojo shouts as you walk away. You turn and give him a thumbs up. 

That whole night, you could feel the tension from the table. Like they all felt bad for you. Like they pitied you. After they paid the bill and Geto and Gojo walked out, Shoko called you over. “Hey, Y/N, you almost done working?” She asked. 

“Yeah, you guys were my last table for tonight. What’s up?” 

“Look,” she says, “I don’t know what’s up with you and Toji, it’s not my business, but I think you should probably know he and Takako were all over each other at Hakari’s tonight.” She looked into your eyes to gauge a reaction. 

Your heart had dropped. You could feel your fingertips tingling like you had lost all the blood in them. They felt lighter than the rest of your body. “Oh, uh, yeah it's not a big deal.” You say. You start to wring your hands on your waist apron. “Thanks for letting me know, though.” You attempt a smile at her. She looks at you with pity and concern, until you can almost visibly see her say ‘fuck it’ in her head. She leans in and gives you a hug. 

You vowed it not to be true, but Shoko had no reason to lie to you. Gojo and Geto had no reason to act so strange when you mentioned you’re still with Toji. Shoko bringing up Takako was not a coincidence. 

You squeeze her back and you can feel your breathing picking up. “T-Thank, um, Thank you.” you say. 

You didn’t call him when your shift was over for him to pick you up as usual, instead opting to take the bus route. You got home that night, thankful to see that your mother had already gone to sleep. You ignored the food she left for you in the fridge and went straight to the shower.

You didn’t cry until you got into bed, when you could smell his cologne on your pillow. You stayed like that for hours. Curled up, silently sobbing, until you heard a light knocking on your window. You knew who it was. The only person it could be, 

“Y/N?” He whispered through the window. He sounded panicked. You could hear the pane slide up and him climb in. 

“Oh, shit, thank god.” He whispered, climbing into your bed. His voice was shaking. “Hey, you awake, mama?”

You turned around to face him. “You had me scared, baby.” He said, moving your hair out of your face. “You never called after your shift. Just ‘cause you’re mad at me doesn’t mean I won’t come get you.”

“You fucked her, didn’t you?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Huh?” 

“You. Fucked. Her. Didn’t. You?” 

His hand froze on your cheek. 

You sat up in your bed. “You fucked her, and then you wanted to come and see me after?” You asked, voice rising with each word. 

“Hey-”

“What?” You ask. You’re fully yelling now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Y/N, stop yelling.” He warns. He stands up from the bed. You stand up and get in his face.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Toji!” You pushed his chest. He didn’t move an inch. “You don’t get to come in here, acting like you’re all worried about me! Acting like you give a fuck!” You were full on sobbing by now.

“Y/N-”

“What the hell is going on in here?” You hear your door swing open and whip around to see your mother standing at the door with a baseball bat in hand. 

Shit.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house? Get the hell out of here!” 

Toji books it out the window, looking at you one last time before leaving. 

“What the hell are you thinking, Y/N? You have a boy in here?” She yells at you. “You’re too young for this! Doing this under my roof, are you insane?” 

You just stand there staring at the floor. “Mom?” You ask, voice cracking. She sets the bat down by your door and rushes to your side. “Did he hurt you? Y/N? What did he do?” You cling onto the back of her shirt and cry into her neck. “Mom-” Is all you can get out before you’re violently shaking and you can feel your knees give out. 

It’s a week later when you see Toji again. Your mother had let you stay home from school for a day, and when you got back, Toji was nowhere to be found. 

Word got around school quickly. If it hadn’t been Shoko who told you, It could’ve been ten other people. Utahime and Saori, another girl you befriended, became your lunch buddies, taking Toji’s place. 

You didn’t want to seem as hurt as you felt, not with Takako grinning at you in the halls every time she saw you. 

He was at your window that night. You didn’t have work, and had taken the free time to catch up on some assignment you had missed. You heard a knock on your window and immediately tensed. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself when you heard the pane slide up. 

You hadn’t even thought about locking your window. Didn’t expect Toji to want anything to do with you. 

“I saw the light on." He explained, like it gave him the right to come in, "Can we talk?” He whispered, “and can you not yell?” You didn’t look up at him. He towered over you from where you sat at your desk. “Can’t promise you anything.” You said. You pretended to work on an algebra problem, but you couldn’t focus with him in the room. 

“Come with me to my truck then.” He pleads. You tap your pencil on the wooden desk and turn your head to look up at him. He looks a mess. Hair mussed like he hadn’t brushed it in days, clothes rumpled and stained. His right eye sports a fading black ring around it. 

You bite your lip. You refuse to show any concern, but you're too curious. You point your pencil at his eye, “What happened there?” He stares at you for a second.

“Can you come or not?” He asks. This would be a common occurrence throughout the rest of your relationship. Toji showing up with a new bruise and brushing you off when you question it.

“Can you answer my question?” You taunt back. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

You sigh and throw your pencil down on the desk. “I’m doing homework, Toji.” You respond. 

“Please.” He begs. 

You know you shouldn’t. You and your mother had had a lengthy conversation just this morning. “You need to stay away from boys like him.” she said as she moved around the kitchen to prepare you breakfast. This hadn’t been a common occurrence until she noticed you had stopped eating. It wasn’t intentional, you just didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “They don’t do anything but lead you down a path you don’t want to go down, Y/N.” She says, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “He’s showing you who he is right now. Believe him.” 

You contemplated it. You knew, deep down, that you shouldn’t. Knew you should’ve called for your mom the second he tapped on your window. But you didn’t. 

“Okay.” 

The two of you crawled out of your window and walked a few houses down to Toji’s truck, parked in an abandoned parking lot. The two of you hop in at the same time. You had suddenly wished you grabbed your coat. It wasn’t necessarily cold, you just wanted something to comfort you. 

“I fucked up.” There it is. His voice, even if he’s saying something incredibly delusional and ridiculous, that is your comfort. He turns in his seat to face you. You do the same, your foot coming up to rest in the seat. 

“I really, really fucked up.” 

“So what’s your excuse?” You ask. You know it’s a bit hurtful. That was a little intentional.

“I just.. I don’t have one.” 

You think about that for a second. “Sooo…” you begin with a laugh, suddenly ten times more bitter than before. “You had sex with another girl… just because?” You ask.

He has nothing to say to that. 

“What am I to you, Toji?” 

He looks at you for a second like he’s pondering. Trying to put it into words, or maybe trying to come up with something. You didn’t know. 

“Everything.” He says, finally.

You smile. It’s a nasty, bitter smile. “That so?” You ask. “I’d hate to see how you treat someone you hate. Gotta be pretty bad.”

“Baby..”

“I’m sorry if I’m misunderstanding you here.” You say, you put your foot back onto the floor of his truck. “You brought me out here, interrupted me, mind you, to what? Tell me that you cheated on me because you felt like it?” 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this angry in your life. You get out of the car. Not waiting for a response. You slam the door, briskly walking back home. 

“Y/N! Come the fuck on!” You can hear him slamming the door and following you. “Don’t walk out here by yourself.” He’s being dramatic. Your house is literally within your field of vision. You can hear his feet rushing to catch up to you. You turn around and point your finger at his chest. “Leave me the fuck alone.” You say with as much conviction as you can muster. 

He does. 

When you get back home, you realize you had left your phone on your desk next to your abandoned algebra homework. You have a message from Utahime waiting for you. When you open your flip phone up, you read

hime <3: wanna go 2 hakari’s w me this fri?

Suddenly you have an idea. Make him hurt like you did. Maybe a little worse, if he cared about you at all, that is. Deep down you knew he did. Even if only a little. 

you: ofc :)

longer chapter for tonight! i'm having fun writing this! thank you for the support!

i changed the name to decode because i was listening to it while writing this chapter and it was a little bit too perfect. everybody say thank you hayley williams.

other songs i listened to while writing include

breaking benjamin - diary of jane

foo fighters - everlong

bts (suga) - trivia: seesaw

paramore - all i wanted

i feel like im on drugs rn

tag list, comment to be added

@mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut

[iovmegumi]

sims 4 crystal legacy challenge

hello! here is a legacy challenge i created while playing the Garden Legacy challenge. i didn’t want to finish on my tenth gen and decided to create my own challenge, based on crystals. this challenge can be continued from a previous save or started in a new one! i also tried to implement base game options for those who don’t own all the packs! some gens do need packs but if you don’t have them, they may be skipped. 

if you play this please tag me! or post your sims with #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge

general rules ❥ you do not have to live on the same lot for all 10 generations if you wish. ❥ mods and cc are allowed! ❥ no money cheats ! ❥ i’ve assigned a colour to each gen so you may play with berry sims if you wish!  ❥ i’ve decided that in each generation you may roll for offspring (rolling a dice or using a random number generator to decide how many children) unless stated otherwise in the rules.

gen one - rose quartz (pink)

a stone of unconditional love.

growing up, all you ever wanted was a family. leaving home young to start your life, you work on your career while trying to find the one, dedicated to cultivating the perfect life. you work hard to support your family and love your children so much, opening your heart and home to those in need of families as well. you cherish your partner and frequently find yourself going on date nights.

traits: family-oriented, romantic, perfectionist aspiration: super parent (PH) or big happy family rules:

❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 5 gourmet cooking ❥ level 10 parenting (PH) ❥ master arts critic career or reach level 10 of painting while freelancing ❥ have four kids, one adopted ❥ marry your soulmate and stay together until death do you part

gen two - orange calcite (orange)

a stone for energy and creativity.

you had everything as a child, lots of siblings and loving parents. you took an interest in your house, specifically the furniture and decided that you’d love to create your own items. when you are old enough you begin learning how to make furniture and take an interest in repairing objects. though you grew such a passion for this, you found that you hadn’t really had time to make friends.

traits: loner, self-assured, maker (EL) or creative aspiration: master maker (EL) or curator rules:

❥ level 10 fabrication (EL) or complete crystal collection or both! ❥level 10 handiness ❥ level 5 gardening ❥ level 10 civil designer career - green technician branch (EL) or live off making creations ❥ have only one friend ❥ marry that friend ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ fill house with furniture or items you’ve made

gen three - moonstone (white)

a symbol of light and hope and also encourages us to embrace new beginnings.

your parents were so focused on the world around you that you began wondering what else was out there. you grew a fascination for space and found the urge to explore outside your planet. you meet some different people, and even find yourself falling in love with one of them. how do you tell your parents that you’re marrying an alien?

traits: genius, family-oriented, clumsy aspiration: nerd brain rules:

❥ level 10 logic ❥ level 10 fitness ❥ level 10 rocket science ❥ level 5 parenting ❥ level 10 astronaut career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ have 4-5 kids ❥ marry an alien (if you have GTW) ❥ build & fully upgrade a rocket ship ❥ travel to sixam

gen four - sodalite (blue)

enhances communication and builds confidence.

having an alien background, you have never felt like you fit in. you dream of having lots of friends and living a normal life. you focus on trying to blend into society and try to be as social as possible, throwing parties and meeting new sims, even seeming to gain some attention on the internet too.

traits: outgoing, unflirty, party animal or bro and loyal aspiration: friend of the world rules:

❥ level 10 charisma ❥ level 7 comedy or mischief ❥ level 7 video gaming ❥ level 10 social media career - internet personality branch (CL) or entertainer - comedy branch ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ throw 5 parties over the course of your life

gen five - pyrite (grey)

used for abundance, confidence & protection.

note: this gen requires Get Famous and may be skipped if you do not own the pack!

having a well-known parent thrust you into the spotlight from a young age and as you grew older, you found yourself loving it, wanting more. you dream of being on the big screen, your face plastered on billboards, your name nominated for awards. you’ll do anything to gain fame, even if it means use others.

traits: ambitious, snob, self-absorbed (GF) aspiration: world famous celebrity rules:

❥ level 10 acting ❥ level 10 piano ❥ level 5 violin ❥ level 5 guitar ❥ level 10 acting career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ become a 5 star celebrity ❥ have two failed marriages ❥ have only one child ❥ have a butler (VG)

gen six - amethyst (purple)

a powerful protective stone.

your parent was obsessed with fame, wanting you to follow in their footsteps. after seeing how little they cared about you, you decided to go in a different direction. your butler was your best friend and basically raised you, talking to you of how they used to love their family garden. you decide a quiet life is suited to you and put all your focus into working on a lovely garden dedicated to your butler.

traits: loves the outdoors, neat, vegetarian aspiration: freelance botanist rules:

❥ level 10 gardening ❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 6 logic ❥ level 10 gardening career (seasons) or complete basegame plants collection or both ❥ have at least 3 kids ❥ lose one child to death ❥ be best friends with your childhood butler

gen seven - tourmaline (black)

promotes happiness and offers protection, inspires creativity.

losing a sibling was the hardest time of your life, and you found that your family never recovered from this loss. you hear a myth of a book that can bring people back to life and vow to return your sibling back to you and your family. 

traits: gloomy, creative, paranoid or erratic aspiration: bestselling author rules:

❥ level 10 writing skill  ❥ level 5 photography skill (GTW) ❥ level 10 writing career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ write book of life & bring back deceased sibling ❥ marry a bookworm ❥ roll for offspring ❥ adopt a cat (C&D)

gen eight - bloodstone (red)

for courage & justice, strengthens immune system & family bonds.

your parents had been stressed a lot of their life, working hard to bring your family member back. you were frustrated that they had to go through so much and decided to take it out on others. you grew to despise most people, working on creating enemies rather than friends, feeling a sense of justice for your parent. yet you still made sure to love your children, even if you may have not loved your spouse as much.

traits: mean, noncommittal, bro aspiration: bodybuilder rules: 

❥ level 10 programming ❥ level 10 mischief ❥ level 10 criminal career (oracle branch) ❥ roll for offspring ❥ cheat on your spouse once all children are born ❥ get divorced as an adult ❥ get engaged again & leave new spouse at the altar

gen nine - amazonite (green)

a stone of peace, harmony, truth & communication.

the trauma of your parents rough marriage led you to pursue finding harmony and inner peace. you find this through yoga and painting, refusing to get a job so you can keep an eye on your spouse and make sure all your children feel loved. 

traits: jealous, erratic, art lover aspiration: painter extraordinaire rules:

❥ level 10 painting ❥ level 10 wellness (SD) or level 10 violin ❥ level 5 knitting (NK) ❥ complete aspiration ❥ never get a job ❥ fill your household with children ❥ always celebrate the holidays (seasons) ❥ go to the spa once a week (SD)

gen ten - citrine (yellow)

attracts wealth, prosperity & success.

note: this gen requires discover university! but i have included a basegame option too!

your whole life has revolved around your siblings. you had nothing that was your own and desperately wanted to remove yourself from them, wanting your own success and your own name. you study and get a degree, priding yourself on your intelligence and work ethic.

traits: hot-headed, materialistic, overachiever or ambitious aspiration: fabulously wealthy rules:

❥ level 10 robotics or level 10 logic & charisma ❥ level 7 programming ❥ level 7 handiness ❥ level 10 engineer career or level 10 business career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ get a university degree (DU) ❥ own a dog & a cat (C&D)

[seoulmatez]

— 𝒽𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓀 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 0.7k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!sunaﾉ repost!

a/n: happy father's day! here's the last installation of hq dads — kuroo, atsumu, & osamu have already been written :3

“you hafta close your eyes! it’s a rule, dad.”

suna chuckles at his daughter’s exclamation. she is beginning to grow tired of his silly antics. they’re meant to be playing hide-and-seek but he’s been messing around with her, covering his eyes with a hand but leaving a gap between his fingers so he could peek through them. 

“fine, fine, i’ll close them,” he agrees, letting his eyelids drift shut. “what next?”

“count to…” the girl frowns, not able to think of a number suitable for the game off the top of her head. even though he can’t see her, suna can tell the girl is racking her brain for the highest number she can fathom. he smiles at her determination but ultimately decides to give her a hand.

“thirty?” suna suggests.

“yeah! and you gotta count loud.”

he still can’t see the girl standing in front of him, but suna imagines she’s pointing an accusing finger at him. ever since he introduced the game to her, she was sure to take all the rules seriously. it would be cheating if suna didn’t count loud enough for her to hear him.

“i’ll be as loud as i can.”

“good,” she nods. “okay, start now.”

“one—” he can hear tiny footsteps racing off as soon as he begins to count. he holds back a laugh and continues to call out the numbers until he reaches thirty.

“ready or not, here i come,” suna announces, opening his eyes and getting up from his place on the couch. he always starts with places she’s hidden in before; under your shared bed, in the bathtub—the clever girl had even closed herself off in one of the low cabinets in the kitchen. the sky is the limit for her; so long as she can reach it, it’s fair game.

none of the searches in those areas yield any results. in all the times the two of them played the game, the girl has never used the same spot twice. smart little thing. suna is working with nothing.

he decides that his best bet is to go through all the rooms in the house one by one. the master bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen are all out of the question, so suna makes his way to the girl’s bedroom. he plucks her blankets and stuffed animals up, looking underneath them to see if she buried herself beneath the plentiful bedding. nothing. he opens the closet and scans the floor to see if she’s curled up next to her shoes. nothing.

suna clicks his tongue and exits the room, leisurely walking down the hallway and back to the living room. it’s not likely that she hid in the very place he was counting, but to be safe, he chooses to survey the room anyway; behind the curtains, in the storage ottoman, anywhere she could squeeze her little body. every possible hiding spot is empty.

“all right, little lady, where are you?” suna says, more to himself than his daughter. he’s usually a little quicker to find her and is having trouble thinking of anywhere else she could have possibly hidden. though, there are still a couple of rooms to search.

the dining room is vacant.

suna sighs as he opens the washer and dryer in the laundry room. he should be relieved that she isn’t in such dangerous appliances, but instead, panic is starting to set in. he’s getting nervous that she had broken the “stay inside the house” rule when he hears a short, muffled giggle from the place at his feet. he freezes, his eyes darting down to the floor. 

the laundry basket that’s flipped upside-down shifts ever so slightly on the tiles. suna smiles, lifting up the plastic basket to reveal the girl crouched down, arms wrapped around herself so that she could fit under the object. “found you.”

“dang it.” she pouts.

suna sets the basket off to the side before picking the little girl up. he kisses her cheek while gently pinching the other one. “you’re getting too good at this game. you might be even better than i am.”

“i’m so good at it you won’t find me next time.”

he knows her words only stem from her competitive side, but suna’s heart jumps at them. the whole experience was more of a scare than he was expecting when he agreed to play with her. but if one thing is for certain, it’s that he would never stop looking until his little girl was back in his arms.

he hums and shakes his head. “i’ll always find you.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[padfootagain]

Only An Almost (VII)

Chapter 7: Tender Bitterness

Hello!! Here is another chapter! So much angst in this fic, I’m sorry (no, I’m not).

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 1759

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

“Stop cheating!”

“I’m not cheating!”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!”

“You can’t use the same word twice.”

“Since when?”

“Since it’s in the rules.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“I’m not, you’re simply cheating!”

You gave him a toothy grin, the kind that made you absolutely adorable, that melted Andrew’s heart…

“It counts.”

“It doesn’t.”

You pouted, gave him your most adorable gaze…

God, you were so fucking annoying…

Andrew heaved a frustrated sigh, hiding his smile and reddening cheeks by grabbing the pen and paper set next to your game of scrabble and your cups of tea.

He counted in silence the points that belonged to you and wrote them down. When Andrew looked up again, you were grinning, clearly proud of yourself. You were so fucking annoying…

… he wanted to kiss that smirk off your face.

It was raining, you were both too lazy to go outside. You had eaten lunch with some friends, including Sam and Daphne who were being unbearably cute together, although the stress of the wedding was growing week after week. You were the one to offer Andrew to drop by to play some boardgame or just watch TV, or whatever. ‘Hang out’, that’s how you called it. You wanted to spend time with him. And Andrew hesitated at first, he thought you meant that you wanted to have sex. And it sounded crazy, knowing how he felt for you and how lovely you looked today and how he wanted to touch you right now… it sounded crazy to think that he didn’t want to have sex with you. And actually, he did want you. If you offered now, he would definitely say yes. But this conversation of yours during your hike was keeping him up at night. He didn’t know what to make of it.

You would never give him a proper chance, he knew that now. The only choice that remained was to enjoy having you by his side for as long as he could, or stop seeing you altogether. He wouldn’t be able to be your friend now. Not after losing all hope, not after learning what it felt like to be yours and for you to be almost his… he couldn’t do it.

So he tried to put more distance between the two of you this past week. It didn’t really work, for the friends part of your relationship. But the ‘benefits’ were down to zero. Andrew wasn’t sure whether he felt good or bad about it.

“Thanks, Andy!”

He mumbled some incoherent answer, playing off annoyance, when the words had simply remained stuck in his throat as you beamed up at him.

Yeah, he wasn’t doing too well…

You both grew quiet as Andrew was thinking, staring at the letters displayed before him. He was losing, by a lot, but then again, his head was everywhere but on the game at hand. It was fun though, you were fun.

He laughed at another stupid joke you said, and forgot the word he had thought of to play. You were laughing as well, and he bathed in the warmth of your smile, in your witty remarks, in how much fun he was having. For a moment, the weight of your relationship was lifted from his heart and shoulders. After all, you could have shared such a moment being friends, or even in a relationship. You could have laughed with him like this too, if you loved him…

“And that is how I will die of boredom… you’re no craic!” you complained, pouting dramatically to make him laugh.

And you easily succeeded, he giggled and it made him blush, the way his heart skipped a beat at how adorable you looked.

“If you stopped talking, maybe I’d be faster.”

“Are you blaming me for your lack of vocabulary?”

“Sorry, who writes lyrics here?”

“Sorry, Mr. Poet. I know your art demands patience and devotion.”

“Exactly, so please, be quiet from now on. I must summon the Muses.”

“If I shove the letters into your mouth, will that help, Virgil?”

“So violent…”

He was struggling not to laugh too loudly all the same.

“Feed the board. It demands your offering.”

“You’re fucking mad.”

“Says you!”

“Says me… here you go.”

He placed a word on the board, nothing too fancy, nothing that would allow him to win. You glanced over at the letters he had left and frowned.

“You could win more points if you moved your word and used the plural.”

“Really? I didn’t see it. Too late now.”

But you picked up the letter, moved his word around.

“Isn’t that cheating?” he chuckled.

“I’m just helping. You’re not focused today.”

Your voice was infinitely gentle as you spoke, there was worry tainting your tone. Andrew looked up at you with a questioning frown.

“I just… you look… you seem a little off these days, Andy,” you went on, clearly cautious in the words you chose. “Is everything okay?”

He struggled to swallow.

“’Course. I’m fine.”

“You know you can talk to me if something’s wrong, right?”

But Andrew shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile.

“I’m perfectly fine. There is no need for you to worry.”

The look you gave him pierced his heart. You looked at him like you… like you were hurting with him. How ironic, considering that you were the reason his body and soul were aching now…

“I’m worried about you. I hate seeing you sad.”

He let out a bitter scoff, he couldn’t help it.

“Like you care,” he spat with more venom in his tone than he meant to let out.

You looked at him with wide eyes, blinking in surprise.

“Of course, I care… why would you say that?”

“You…”

He heaved a frustrated sigh.

“Never mind,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What’s wrong with you? We’ve been friends for years, you’re… you’re one of the most important people in my life… how could you say that? God, we… we’ve slept together. And you think I don’t care?”

His jaw clenched, he struggled to blink tears away. He took in a deep breath.

“I… I’m sorry. I’m just… I’m a little lost. In my life, I mean. In… in everything… I don’t know what to do.”

You silently invited him to keep going. The rain was louder outside, the sky so dark you could have turned on the lights.

“I… I don’t know… I have a decision to take, and I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t want to tell me the specifics?”

“No… honestly, no, I don’t want to.”

“Okay. Well… what would make you happier? I reckon that’s all you need to ask yourself.”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’m gonna be on the losing side no matter what.”

Slowly, you nodded, but your frown was enough to tell him that you had no clue what he was talking about. You pondered his words for a moment.

“Y/N… I don’t think you can help anyway. I just have to figure this out on my own. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m fine. I’m simply worried about something, that’s all.”

Slowly, you nodded, although you seemed unconvinced.

“Can I do something to make you feel better?”

You opened your arms for him.

“A hug?”

He chuckled fondly at you. Even if he tried to be mad at you, he simply couldn’t. You were too sweet for that…

“Sure, come here.”

You yielded easily, standing up to hug him. Sitting in his chair you were a little taller than him, for once. He breathed deeply your scent as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He felt his bones melting under your touch as you stroked his hair, a palm splayed reassuringly across his spine, as if to support his frame. You kissed his forehead, and he almost cried with the tenderness of your gesture.

He held you tightly, more so than he should have, but you didn’t seem to mind, accepting the way he clung unto you.

“What if I ordered some pizza and we watched some disgustingly sweet movie together tonight?”

He hummed in approval.

“Sounds nice,” he answered in a sigh.

“If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you have some of my favourite whiskey.”

“When am I ever not nice to you?”

“When you try to prevent me from cheating at scrabble?”

“It’s called being a law-abiding citizen. You should try sometimes.”

“Huh, huh…. No thanks. I’d rather remain a rascal.”

He chuckled into your neck, sending vibrations through your skin, and he noticed the way it made you shiver.

God, if you held him like that, if you reacted this way to him… it ought to mean something… despite his job and the odds, perhaps one day you would…

He looked up at you when you gently pulled on his hair to guide him away from your neck. He thought you wanted to break free from the hug, and he almost protested, but then both of your hands were gently cradling his face, your thumbs brushing his bearded cheeks. Before he could realize what you were doing, you were pressing your lips to his, in the gentlest, most tender kiss he had ever been given. It was loving. He was shocked by the intimacy of it, how much care and love you were putting into the gesture. Andrew couldn’t remember ever being kissed so lovingly…

When you pulled away, he had to blink a few times to force his brain back into action.

And you looked down at him with so much fondness in your smile, as if you felt the same adoration that coursed through every fibre of his being every time he looked at you, every time he as much as thought of you.

And what if he could change your mind?

None of you said anything. Andrew buried his face into your neck again, held you tight, and you welcomed him in your embrace with a pressing of your lips to his hairline. Not a kiss, just a resting of your lips onto his skin. You inhaled deeply enough for him to hear it, to think that perhaps you were committing his scent to memory too, the same he did with yours. And all the while, there was nothing sexual in your gestures. Only comfort and kindness and maybe even love, Andrew was foolish enough to think of the word.

There was no way you could have held him like this, and not feel a thing… right?

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃Seventeen and s/o switches languages during an argument❃

a/n: Firstly, thank you for sending my very first request; I hope I did it justice! After discussing it together, we decided to make it a more general prompt. This was such a fun prompt to try my hand at, as a fellow EU carat, it was amusing to imagine how they would react to their partner switching languages. Some of these may have become a bit, more like very, long as a result so, well, grab your popcorn I suppose :')

Anyway, it is a bit longer and more serious than my other posts but I hope that you will like it regardless!

TG: some of these are slightly angsty and DK is naked

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ In all fairness, the two of you tend to bicker every now and then, mostly because Coups is the pettiest and poutiest person alive. As a result, you tend to be quite used to having irrelevant arguments with him. Neither of you gets incredibly upset; the arguments are mostly harmless and, at times, can be quite amusing.

❀ This time, however, you had quite a stressful day at work and were in no mood to playfully bicker with him. Apparently, you had absent mindlessly borrowed one of his jackets, and he had been missing it all day, giving Hoshi an earful as he believed he had gone out of his way to borrow his stuff again. After he discovered that Hoshi hadn't been the culprit, he texted you, but in the chaos of work, you had forgotten to reply, leaving him on read. Truly, in his eyes, how incredibly offensive. How can his love, his light, his everything leave him on read just like his members do???

❀ Cue a ton of whining and pouting when you walked through the door, wrapped in his precious jacket. He didn't seem to get the hint that you were in no mood for his dramatic antics. It didn't take long for you to snap at him, effectively shutting him up. He didn’t shut up, however, because you actually got angry at him, but because you unconsciously switched to your native tongue in your exhaustion. He had forgotten that was a thing you could do.

❀ He has dealt with the foreign line switching languages during arguments enough to know that you weren't having his tantrum. It is enough for him to realize to knock it off, but he will be pouting the rest of the evening. Not because he is still upset about the jacket, but because he has no idea what you said and he is too prideful to ask until the next morning.

Jeonghan

❀ Jeonghan rarely gets mad at people, meaning that arguments between the two of you tend to be infrequent. The only times the two of you tend to bicker is when he finds yet another way to cheat during game nights. The cheating is all in good fun, and more often than not, you find yourself impressed with his quick-wittedness. 

❀ That being said, losing five times in a row because your boyfriend found another loophole in the game rules really tested your patience. You had been playing Uno together when he decided that whenever he plays the reverse card, it means he gets to go again. Somehow, he stocked up on a ton of reverse cards, and he had been getting rid of most of his cards without you being able to do anything about it. 

❀ Naturally, you started arguing with him, trying to convince him that it was against the rules. It was no use; he knows the rules better than you do. Thus, in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t help yourself, and you cursed at him in your native tongue. He was mighty confused for a second, but was aware from looking at your face that you were not complimenting his quick thinking.

❀ He ended up laughing at you, finding it hilarious that he somehow managed to trigger you that much. Be prepared for him to never let you live it down. Every game night, he will cheekily ask you whether it is okay for him to cheat or whether you will curse at him in your native tongue again. From now on, he will up his cheating antics as well, trying to get a rise out of you again. 

Joshua

❀ You and Joshua usually don't let your grievances get to a shouting match. Before it can get to that point, one of you sits the other down to calmly talk things out. However, every once in a while, whenever one of you is stressed about something, things tend to escalate. So when Joshua comes home late after a gruelling recording session for the sixth time that week, leaving you to do all the house chores after a stressful work day yet again, you get into a heated argument.

❀ Neither of you wanted to admit to being in the wrong, leading to you bickering back and forth. Joshua had been angrily smiling at you for the past half an hour, trying to explain his side of the story, whilst you were trying to do the same. Arguing in Korean wasn't necessarily your strong suit, and despite English being a lot easier, you couldn't help but switch to your native language as you were trying to find the right words to explain your side of the story.

❀ To be honest, I can't really imagine Joshua being surprised when you switch languages during an argument. Having lived in an environment where he has to speak a second language constantly, he probably is all too aware that when people get emotional, they switch to their mother tongue. He has had too many quarrels and fights with the other members where he kept throwing in English, unable to remember the corresponding Korean word.

❀ Instead, your argument becomes a poly-lingual discussion where the two of you keep switching between all the languages you are familiar with. Joshua doesn't even blink when you switch to your native language anymore; he is used to deciphering what you are saying through context clues.

Jun

❀ Jun is an absolute homebody. He loves to lounge on the couch for hours with his phone in hand, playing mobile games and scrolling on social media. It is the perfect way for him to de-stress after his busy schedule, where he has to constantly be on the move. Usually, you enjoy the domesticity of it, but lately, you can't help but feel like all the two of you have been doing is staying at home. It isn’t like you constantly want to be out and about, but a part of you wants to go on a proper date where you get to dress up and be lovey-dovey with your boyfriend. You have been trying to find the right time to bring it up, aware that Jun doesn’t do well with subtle hints.

❀ However, when the day finally came where you asked him to go on more dates, it ended up in you two fighting. It had all started when you found yourself bored out of your mind with Jun being on his phone again, absorbed in his own world. For the first time in a while, he got to enjoy a bit of a break as promotions had finally ended, and he intended to spend most of it relaxing on the couch. It was a much-needed break from the constant dancing and travelling. Naturally, when you proposed to go out for the day, asking whether he wanted to check out a café that had just opened up in the city, he immediately responded that he didn’t want to.

❀ Perhaps both of your fuses had been short that day, and soon an argument ensued between you two. Jun stubbornly maintained that he wanted to rest and that being at home together was enough for him, whilst you tried to explain that you felt like he didn’t want to make time for your relationship. The two of you argued back and forth, both making valid arguments but unwilling to hear the other out.

❀ Jun was already mixing some Mandarin with his Korean as he got more and more frustrated. It didn’t help either that Jun had started to speak quicker the more agitated he got, making it even harder for you to decipher what he was trying to say. Thus, as the fight reached a boiling point, you started to yell at him in your native language. Jun had never heard you speak your mother tongue at length before, so you completely caught him off guard.

❀ Jun doesn't know what to say in response to your yelling, not knowing what you yelled at him in the heat of the moment. Similarly, you are surprised at your emotional outburst. You switching languages is enough for the both of you to realize that neither of you was listening to the other anymore. After a moment of silence, the two of you decide to leave the argument for the night and calmly talk about it after a good night's sleep.  

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Hoshi has been trying to convince you that his native language is growling, being a tiger, and all that. As much as you try to support your boyfriend’s tiger agenda, you have attempted to dissuade him from growling at you constantly as a way of communicating. You gently told him to stop as, first of all, you can't understand what he is trying to say when he is growling, and, secondly, it is very embarrassing when he does it in public.

❀ Still, he is waiting to find any excuse to growl at you, and you have noticed that whenever you slip into your mother tongue, he sees it as a green light to start. As a result, you try to be extra careful about using your native language around him in public or when other people are visiting. At home, you feel comfortable enough to, at the very least, scold him without anyone else having to bear witness to how shameless this man can be.

❀ It had all gone downhill when you and Hoshi organized a game night with the other members. It wasn't the actual game night that resulted in you yelling at him. Oh no, it had to do with the fact that Kwon Soonyoung has the habit of leaving the toilet seat up despite you having asked, on multiple occasions, whether he could lower it after he finished his business. For the past few days, he had been doing a good job remembering, but with all the excitement of the game night, it had slipped his mind. He was reminded, however, of his mistake upon hearing a splash and a blood-curdling scream leave the bathroom door.

❀ You were livid upon entering the living room and reminded your boyfriend yet again to lower the god-damn thing. In your anger, you slipped into your native tongue without being aware of doing so. You didn't even register it until you saw Hoshi's stunned and guilty expression morph into one of absolute delight.

❀ He growls. At you. In response.

❀ It is safe to say that the other members have to hold you back before you kill your boyfriend.

Wonwoo

❀ Usually, you loved having a gamer boyfriend as it meant that you got to focus on your own hobbies, happily existing in the same space without having to constantly have to do things together. Lately, however, you had been trying your hand at some of the games he had been playing. It was a fun pastime, and you especially liked games that didn’t require a fast reaction time, allowing you to explore a world or story at your own pace without it resulting in you constantly dying. Not to pat yourself on the back, but you had become quite skilled at the games you often played. Recently, you and Wonwoo had even started to play games together; you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw your joined beds in Minecraft.

❀ So, when Wonwoo asked you to play Keep Talking & Nobody Explodes together, you had expected the two of you to do rather well. However, it couldn’t be further from what ended up transpiring. The game required seamless communication, with one person trying to disarm a bomb whilst the other consulted a manual on how to, unable to see the actual bomb. The first level had been easy enough, but you guys immediately got stuck on the second level. Each level was more complicated than the last one and was making your way through the game rather painfully slow. For some reason, your communication was completely off, resulting in numerous retries. It didn’t even matter who the operator or who the bomb disarmer was; you simply couldn’t get into sync.

❀ You could tell that Wonwoo was getting incredibly agitated when you were taking way too long to read the Korean instructions to him, unable to understand one particular word, causing the bomb to explode yet again. He had played the game with some of the members before, and it hadn’t been this hard. It didn’t help that he kept trying to give you tips and tricks on how to play the game. It felt a bit condescending. Moreover, you could tell he was partly blaming your Korean when he sighed yet again at another failed attempt due to you fumbling over your words. It wasn’t as if this was only your fault. As a result, you snapped at him that he should try to play in your native tongue and see how easy of a time he had with it. Except, you accidentally snapped at him in the wrong language.

❀ As you continue rambling under your breath, venting to yourself that your boyfriend and the game are both stupid, you don’t notice that you switched languages. Wonwoo, in the meantime, has fallen incredibly quiet, unsure how to react. He realizes that it might have been a bit unfair to play a game that requires you to communicate complicated instructions in Korean. When you are finally done ranting in your native language, he will quietly propose playing a different game, muttering a quiet apology when you two agree to switch to Stardew Valley. He makes sure to give you lots of gifts in-game, trying to show that he appreciates you playing with him even if it doesn’t always work out well.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ You were aware that when you started dating Woozi that he was a bit of a workaholic and that there would be times when he would prioritize his work over your relationship. For the most part, you loved his dedication to producing music; you enjoyed hanging out in his studio, watching how he expertly produced a new track. You always felt in awe as you watched him tinker on the piano, trying to figure out what chords to use for the song. In turn, he loved having you there; your questions and curiosity reminded him of the wonder he felt when he first started producing.

❀ However, his passion for making music sometimes did make you feel like a third wheel in your relationship, especially when a Seventeen comeback was nearing. He would be cooped up in the studio for weeks, ignoring all the messages you send him. Where he normally loved having you around in the studio, he would become easily agitated with you watching over his shoulder as the deadlines neared. The expectations of the members and the company would weigh heavily on him, and having you be there as another watchful eye was simply too much for him to handle.

❀ So, when you went to the studio after a concerned Coups had called you, noticing that Woozi hadn’t bothered to eat that day, your presence put Woozi over the edge. It had been a couple of weeks since you had last seen your boyfriend, and you had hoped that seeing you would cheer him up. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you stepped into the studio, his attention captured by the screen in front of him. Whenever he did respond, it was often curt and borderline insulting. You knew it was due to him being under a lot of pressure, but you couldn’t help feeling hurt.

❀ It got to you, and before you knew it, the two of you were fighting. Woozi, who already was feeling immense stress, couldn’t deal with the intense emotions and, hence, defensively threw out a painful insult without thinking. Feeling the tears sting in the corner of your eyes, you asked yourself why you were even still here when he obviously didn’t want you there in your native language before turning to leave. He didn’t understand what you had said, leaving him momentarily speechless.

❀ By switching languages unexpectedly, it gets through to Woozi what he had said and how hurt you were by his words. By being unable to understand what you were saying, he is able to solely focus on your tone and emotions. He feels incredibly guilty about his behaviour, and it doesn’t take long for him to chase after you to profusely apologize.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Although fights do not often happen with DK, he sometimes can be a bit prideful, only recognizing he is in the wrong when the other person gets noticeably angry. You encountered his pridefulness on a normal enough day. DK had texted you that he would be over at your place after practice, so when you came home and heard the shower running, you were delighted at the prospect of spending the evening together with your boyfriend. You briefly called out to him that you were home before waiting for him on the couch to finish showering. It didn't take long for him to be done. When you saw the door swing open with your handsome boyfriend only wearing a towel around his waist, you got up to properly greet him with a hug.

❀ However, before you could do so, you smelled a familiar scent drifting out of the bathroom. You see, one of your friends had gifted you a very expensive body wash that you had been gingerly using whenever you had had a particularly stressful day. Due to it being so expensive, you had asked DK to use the other ones in your shower, just so you could enjoy it a little longer, as you weren't really going to buy it for yourself once it ran out. He hadn't listened. Cue one of the pettiest arguments ever.

❀ In your defence, you weren't even upset about him using the body wash, but instead were hurt that he hadn't respected your wishes. DK, in turn, argued that it was only body wash and that he had simply wanted to smell like you. The argument escalated without either of you meaning to, and before you knew it, a towel hit you in the face. In surprise and anger, you yelled at him in your native tongue, which made DK effectively realize what he had done. He knew that you would never switch languages without being incredibly upset and he felt mortified, recognizing that he had not only let his emotions get out of control but also had parted with the only thing covering up his body.

❀ As you threw the towel back at him, venting in your native language some more, you finally noticed DK standing before you in all his glory, looking both guilt-ridden and like he wished for the ground to swallow him whole. Seeing him standing there butt naked was enough for you to crack up, breaking the tension from the argument. DK, on the other hand, wasn't sure whether to profusely apologize for throwing the towel at you or hide for the rest of eternity.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu often feels like the perfect boyfriend; he loves to cook and clean and lives to pamper you whenever he is able to. He takes your teasing very well, enjoying when you cheekily poke fun at him blatantly showing off his trained physique in front of fans. Although staying in Korea can sometimes be overwhelming, he truly makes you feel right at home. He strives to introduce you to his friends and tries to make as many new memories with you so that you wouldn’t have to miss your home country too much.

❀ When you guys moved in together, you had been ready to have it be another cherished memory. That was until Mingyu dropped a very precious ceramic bowl. The bowl had been a present from your family when you moved out, and you had dragged the bowl with you all the way to Korea. It was a meaningful keepsake you had taken with you from your home country, allowing you to have a piece of home in a foreign place. You had mostly used it as decoration in your previous apartment, and you were incredibly careful when using it, knowing that once it fell, it would be incredibly difficult to replace.

❀ Consequentially, when you watched your boyfriend drop it onto the floor, shattering your treasured keepsake into a thousand pieces, you felt a part of yourself fracture simultaneously. Mingyu didn’t seem to recognize what he had broken, sheepishly apologizing to you before jokingly remarking that the bowl had been rather ugly anyway. You knew he wasn’t aware of what he had broken and that it would be unfair for you to get mad at him, as it had been an accident after all. Nonetheless, seeing something so important to you not only get broken beyond repair but also mocked, set you off.

❀ As a result, you started yelling at a stunned Mingyu, who wasn’t expecting your explosive reaction at all. In turn, he got aggrieved, feeling like your reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Voicing that, however, only made you more upset, and as you tried to pick up the broken pieces to throw them out, you started crying, sobbing to yourself that it truly was beyond repair in your native tongue.

❀ Mingyu, in retrospect, doesn’t know whether it had been your crying or you switching languages, but as he watches you tearfully throw out the pieces, his anger completely vanishes, only to be replaced by an intense feeling of guilt. He will hug you tightly, apologizing for breaking something that had obviously been very important to you. After you explain what the bowl stood for, he will try his hardest to get you another bowl as a surprise, contacting your family to have them send over a new one.

❀ In the end, all is well, and to be honest, you might love the new bowl a lot more as it reminds you of how much Mingyu genuinely treasures you.

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao and you had decided to go on a wine painting date; you had stumbled upon it not too long ago, excitedly proposing it to your boyfriend, knowing it combined two of his favourite things. Minghao had been looking forward to the date for the past week, feeling giddy despite the exhausting dance practices. He would tell anyone that would listen about the date, gushing over how well his girlfriend knew him.

❀ It was an absolute surprise to both of you when the workshop ended with you arguing. The workshop had started innocently enough, with you guys following the instructions, laughing whenever a brushstroke failed to turn out how you had intended. The wine tasted great, and both of you were amazed that the workshop was pouring such luxurious wine.

❀ However, as the workshop progressed and the teacher made his way past all the other participants to check on their progress, things turned sour pretty quickly. The moment the teacher laid eyes on you, he was enamoured and absolutely oblivious that you were on a date with your boyfriend.

❀ At first, you assumed that the teacher was only being nice when he lingered longer at your station than others. You presumed that he was being friendly and that, with you and Minghao being the last people he needed to check up on, he stayed to kill time until he needed to introduce the next set of instructions. You failed to notice that Minghao had grown awfully quiet as you conversed. When the teacher reached over to guide the paintbrush in your hand, you started to get the hint that the teacher was trying to hit on you.

❀ Minghao, on the other hand, had been noticing the glances from the teacher since the beginning of the workshop. Although he prided himself in rarely being jealous or upset, the wine made it harder for him to let his gnawing feelings go. He knew his anger was unfair and misplaced, but it didn't make him feel any less upset. Even when you gently let the teacher down by telling him that you and your boyfriend could figure it out yourselves from here, the hurtful feeling persisted.

❀ Thus, when you turned to him afterwards to check on why he had been so quiet, only to be met with a curt Minghao, you began arguing. You knew he was jealous, but he had started to take it out on you. Thus, you did the only thing you knew that could possibly cheer your boyfriend up and shake him out of his jealousy. You took his face gently in your hands, rambling sweet nothings in your native tongue.

❀ Minghao loves hearing you speak in your native language to him, feeling like nothing is more intimate than only him being able to understand the sweet nothings you are saying. He will momentarily blank as he tries to process your sweet words. It is enough to melt away his jealous feelings, making him feel a bit stupid for letting it influence his actions and words (as well as any hope the teacher had to get your number afterwards).   

Seungkwan

❀ We all know that Seungkwan likes to nag and tease, not a stranger to playful bickering. Nevertheless, Seungkwan strikes me as someone who is very open with his emotions, preferring to discuss what is bothering him rather than bottling things up. Thus, you two rarely get into actual fights, as he ensures that you two regularly talk about the problems you experience as a couple. At the same time, Seungkwan is a bit of a sensitive boy, and sometimes it is easy to get into arguments with him without either of you meaning to let things escalate. A joke might not land and instead hurts his feelings, leading to an angry and butthurt Boo. 

❀ During some of your playful fights, he noticed that you struggled to keep up with his Korean, switching to your native language in frustration when the Korean escaped you. He couldn’t help but feel slightly bad about you having to constantly accommodate him, which is why he devised a plan. Without you knowing, he spend a significant amount of time online skewering the internet to search for basic sentences, mildly insulting phrases and not-too-harsh curse words that he could use if you guys got into another playful argument. Instead of only you having to struggle in Korean, he felt it was only fair for him to wrestle with your native tongue as well.

❀ He finally gets to use it when you guys have a heated discussion over which coffee is the best on one of your many coffee dates; he keeps maintaining that Iced Americano is the best coffee that exists, something that you wholeheartedly disagree with. At first, you are able to respond to him in Korean, easily countering his arguments. However, as the discussion progresses, you can’t help but feel like Seungkwan intentionally is using advanced and eloquent Korean, using words you have never heard before. It doesn’t take long before you start switching out Korean for your native language, trying to hold your ground in the discussion.

❀ It is kind of comical when Seungkwan whips out a list of standard phrases, curse words and insulting sentences in your language, way too eager to use them. Rather than you surprising him by switching languages unconsciously, he is catching you off guard by using your own language against you. He is reading the sentences one by one, and although his pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired, you can tell he put a lot of effort into learning it. You don’t even know whether to be impressed by the fact that he poured so much work into arguing with you in your native language or offended by the, albeit mostly harmless, insults that he is hurling at your head.

Vernon

❀ Vernon strikes me as an emotionally mature person. Therefore, the two of you rarely argue with each other, if at all. Vernon is such a chill guy; it takes a lot to truly get him riled up, and even when he gets emotional, he is capable of maturely handling his emotions. Because of it, you haven’t had any real fights, only mature discussions on how to best navigate whatever problem you two were experiencing in the relationship.

❀ However, there was one thing that you and Vernon could argue for hours about, films. Usually, your film discussions are very civil, with each respecting the other’s opinion even if the other wholeheartedly disagrees. Hence, you guys have made it a routine to put a film on every other night, spending the rest of the evening talking about what you liked or disliked. Both of you enjoyed watching films together in this manner, with the discussions often taking up as much time as watching the films did.

❀ Tonight, however, you made the mistake of putting on a film you adored for nostalgic reasons. The film had been produced in your country, and after searching for it for a while, you had finally found a version with English subtitles. You were incredibly excited to be able to show Vernon the type of films you had grown up with. At first, you thought he was enjoying it; Vernon seemed absorbed as he watched the screen, nodding to himself when he appeared to like a particular scene. Nevertheless, once the film had ended and you eagerly turned to ask him whether he had liked it, he briefly hesitated before calling it mid.

❀ You stared at him in confusion, wondering whether you had been watching the same film. How could he call one of your favourite films mid? Sure, the budget might not have been spectacular compared to a Hollywood blockbuster film, resulting in some questionable CGI and cinematography choices. Still, it was a great film, in your opinion. When you asked him to explain himself, he shrugged, explaining that he simply thought it hadn’t been that good and that both the plot and cinematography left a lot to be desired.

❀ You were greatly offended, and before you knew it, you were heatedly arguing with him. Vernon remained calm rather than matching your energy, explaining that it was okay for you to like a film that just wasn’t his taste. Somehow his indifference annoyed you more, and before you knew it, you were ranting at him that he simply didn’t get how innovative the film was despite the constraints the director had to overcome. Perhaps by being exposed to your native language for such a long time, you brain got reset, and without you being fully aware of it, you had started using your mother tongue. Where before Vernon had been attentively listening, he now seemed lost, alerting you to your accidental mistake.

❀ It was the first time where you had switched languages in his presence, and he realizes that perhaps he had been overly critical. He will gently propose that maybe he was unable to fully enjoy the film as much as you did due to things getting lost in translation. You know he is mostly humouring you, but regardless, it is enough for the one-sided argument to dissipate. How can you stay mad at someone who is the definition of calm and respectful?

Dino/Chan

❀ In retrospect, you should’ve listened to Jeonghan’s warning when you decided to order Soju during dinner. Neither of you had expected to drink, but after a busy workweek, the two of you had decided, “Why the hell not.” You were massively regretting it now, having to deal with a drunk and stubborn Lee Chan.

❀ He refused to do anything you asked of him, and you were practically dragging him through the streets of Seoul, whilst he kept repeating that he wasn’t drunk and could take care of himself. Yeah, sure, he definitely did not keep stumbling over his own feet and was only kept from falling by your grip on his arm. It didn’t help that he kept trying to dislocate himself from you either, claiming that, as your boyfriend, he should be helping you.

❀ It all came to a boiling point when you decided to hail a taxi, too tired and exhausted to continue carrying him. Jeonghan had told you all about stubborn drunk Dino, but you had hoped that you, as his significant other, held enough sway over your boyfriend to coax him into the taxi. Spoiler alert, you didn’t, and instead, the two of you got into an argument. No matter what you said, he kept repeating that he could hail his own taxi. He’s a big boy now.

❀ Maybe it was your sore muscles from carrying him, perhaps it was Dino stupidly refusing your help the entire time or possibly it was the taxi driver warning that he would drive off if the two of you didn’t get in, but suddenly in the midst of your sentence, you switched to your native tongue. In an attempt to get him moving, your tipsy, fuzzy brain resorted to the easiest language for you to yell in. Apparently, that was all it took for Dino to shake himself out of his stubbornness.

❀ The poor guy will be so confused that he’ll easily let you drag him by the arm into the taxi. He can’t determine whether he is truly so drunk that your words have become illegible or that you actually spoke a different language. At the very least, for the time being, you have managed to break through stubbornly drunk Dino, and he lets you guide him whilst he is trying to figure it out in his fuzzy brain.

❀ He will definitely be asking you about it the next morning whilst nursing a massive hangover, thinking it was all a dream.

masterlist

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you. 

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that. 

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo. 

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally. 

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you. 

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.” 

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.” 

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.” 

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.” 

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.” 

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?” 

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.” 

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.” 

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.” 

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.” 

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?” 

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.” 

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.” 

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.” 

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.” 

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with? 

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.” 

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.” 

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.” 

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.” 

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Interlude - Eddie

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude]

A/N: Friday evening from Eddie's POV.

-

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, “you actually do know King Steve?”

Eddie almost gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks from Erica to Dustin and, holy shit, the Keg Stand King himself, Steve Harrington.

“I told you he’s awesome,” Dustin says in a tone that implies Jeff’s an idiot. “Come on Steve, sit beside me. I’ll help you with the rules.”

“Hold up,” Eddie says, rounding to Harrington. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights for a moment, which is hilarious to Eddie. Who knew Harrington could be startled? However, any joy he might have gotten from startling Harrington is fleeting, because Eddie doesn’t trust why he’s here. Why he would agree to sub. Harrington’s always been bad news, and Eddie doesn’t trust him as far as he can throw him, no matter how nice he is to look at. “Your character is?”

“Oh, uh, tiefling paladin, oath of the crown,” Harrington says, trying to catch Dustin’s eye in what Eddie thinks Steve believes is a subtle way.

Eddie shoots a glare at him. No way Harrington came up with that character. It had to have been made by Dustin, which Eddie would normally count as cheating and kick someone out for, but… Well, he’s got to admit a little intrigued. Harrington might not have made his own character, but he pronounced tiefling right and knew to say the subclass. “Right. And why’d you agree to sub?”

There is a small pause before Harrington simply says, “Dustin asked.”

He’s got to admit to some surprise here. He didn’t think Harrington could actually care about other people, but he seems genuine. Honest, almost. “Fine.” Eddie watches as Dustin steers Harrington to an empty seat. Eddie takes his own spot back on the throne. If Harrington is going to play, he’ll need to tweak the battle a little. Having another higher-level paladin in the group throws off his carefully calculated challenge rating. Easy enough to tweak. A few more minions can join the fight, and Vecna can still be deadly as he is now without changes. He’ll see if he needs to up the hit points for Vecna after the first combat encounter. If they breeze through that, Vecna’s definitely getting a boost.

Also... Well, also, Eddie’s almost a little excited that Harrington’s going to see this side of him. Yes, Harrington was witness to more than his fair share of cafeteria rants but that’s different. That’s Eddie acting out against the system because it’s rigged in favor of people like Harrington, and against people like Eddie. Here, Harrington will get to see Eddie perform.

While plotting, he does take the time to eavesdrop at bit. Specifically on Harrington.

“Hi. I’m Steve.”

“I know,” Gareth says, and he couldn’t sound more disinterested in talking to Harrington if he tried. Eddie’s a little proud of him.

“Right. And you are…?”

“Gareth.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“We’ve met. Like four times,” Gareth says dismissively and Eddie grins behind his DM screen. How many times had Harrington dismissed them? He knows he shouldn’t be feeling this vindicated. And yet…

There’s a bit of a pause before Eddie hears Harrington ask, “Isn’t Lucas in this club, too?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why you’re here. To fill in for him. ‘Cause he’s in the basketball game,” Dustin answers.

“And he’s okay with missing this game?”

“Well, uh, he doesn’t exactly know he’s missing it?” Dustin says it like a question and Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. There’s no way Lucas Sinclair, budding athlete that he is, doesn’t know he’s missing this game. He made his choice.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harrington says.

“He asked us to get Eddie to postpone the game, but Eddie said no. Besides, Mike’s leaving the state tomorrow morning and we’d have to wait two weeks to play again otherwise,” Dustin explains, “and, uh, we haven't seen him since he asked us after the assemble to tell him that the game would not be postponed.”

Eddie finally lifts his head to watch the exchange. He can’t see Dustin’s face, as Dustin is facing Harrington, but that leaves Eddie with a perfect view of Harrington.

“That’s bullshit, Henderson,” Harrington’s raises his voice. He doesn’t have an expression on his face that would suggest anger. It’s more disappointment, but either way, Eddie’s not about to watch Harrington bully one of his sheep.

“Watch it, Harrington,” Eddie snaps, matching Harrington’s energy. “You don’t get to bully people around here.”

“That’s not- right, sorry. Just, can we postpone for like ten more minutes?” Harrington asks.

“Why the Hell would we do that?” Eddie is bewildered, he’ll admit that. Why does Harrington need ten more minutes?

“So I can go tell Lucas this game wasn’t postponed, like he thinks it is,” that bit hissed in Dustin’s direction, “and he might only be going to the basketball game because he thinks this one isn’t happening.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a bit dumbly. Has he read Lucas all wrong? Is he more nerd than jock? It’s strange that Harrington might be the authority on that matter, but he seems terribly invested in these kids. Maybe Eddie has read Harrington all wrong? Maybe he really has changed, and is just here to make a bunch of kids happy? “Fine. Ten minutes. We’re starting without you or Sinclair if it takes longer than that.”

“Thanks!” Harrington smiles at him.

Eddie’s self-aware enough to know why his insides flutter in the face of the full Harrington Charm directed at him. He scrunches his face in disgust at himself. He was, is, over the crush he’d had on Harrington. That was a blip on his radar of Unfortunate and Bad Crushes on Stupid Straight Boys. A lot of people made the list (he’s a hopeless romantic, sue him) so Harrington’s not special.

Isn’t going to be special. Eddie’s going to kill his paladin as quickly as possible and then kick him out to go watch the basketball game or something.

-

“Any moment now Steve's going to walk back through that door with Lucas. So, I hope you are prepared to have two extra players tonight. He's very persuasive. He'll get Lucas to come around. If anyone can, it's Steve. Just you wait,” Dustin is saying when Harrington steps back into the room. Not that Eddie was watching the door for him.

Harrington’s got a look on his face that isn’t pleased. Great.

“Oh no,” Erica sighs, “that’s your Disappointed Parent face.”

“I don’t have a ‘Disappointed Parent’ face,” Harrington says before turning his gaze to Eddie. “Eddie, Lucas thinks you don’t like him.”

“Why does he think that?” Eddie stands up from where he was sitting. He doesn’t like the tone in Harrington’s voice and he’s not going to stay sitting so Harrington can talk down to him, literally or figuratively.

“He thinks you don’t like him because he’s missed previous games. Thinks you don’t like him so much that he had to have Dustin and Mike ask about this game because he believes you’d have said no immediately to him,” Harrington steps further into the room, and Eddie watches as all his friends tense. Ready to jump to his defense if need be. Eddie’s tense, too, because this is the Harrington he remembers. The one who thinks his word is law, and everyone should obey. Well, Eddie’s not going just roll over. Of course the jock shows up in defense of the other jock.

“I don’t hate him, but the budding jock made his choice,” Eddie scoffs, dismissive.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Eddie. ‘You don’t get to bully people around here.’” Harrington uses a deeper tone that Eddie thinks is supposed to represent Eddie’s voice as he parrots the words back to him. “It’s only okay for you to be the bully, huh?”

Eddie gasps, offended. “Of the two of us, Harrington, I’m not the fucking bully,” Eddie moves away from the table, rounding it to go get into Harrington’s face, but Gareth reaches out and grabs his elbow, stopping Eddie in his tracks. It’s the right call, because Eddie doesn’t want to have to fist fight Harrington in front of the club, but he’ll fucking do it.

“You don’t know shit about me,” Harrington fires back. “I was a dick in high school, yeah, but I grew the fuck up. You’re bullying a fifteen-year-old because he wants to, what, play sports? Making him choose between the two? That’s fucked up.”

“Again, I didn’t fucking make him choose!” Eddie growls back. Eddie didn’t! Lucas made his choice the day he tried out for basketball. Eddie knew it. Lucas knew it. Lucas’s friends knew it. The only one in the room who doesn’t seem to get it is Harrington, who must truly believe you can have your cake and eat it too. Unsurprising, Eddie thinks, since Harrington was born with a silver spoon in his goddamn mouth that probably already had cake on it. Ice cream, too.

“You did! By not postponing the fucking game! School sports have a set schedule, and you could have looked at it before scheduling Hellfire,” Harrington says. “Lucas is allowed to like sports and nerd things. And you two,” he pivots to point between Dustin and Mike, “are being kind of shitty right now. After everything you’ve gone through together, you couldn’t stick by his side for this?”

“Hey, I have to get on a plane tomorrow morning,” Mike defends himself. “If they postponed, then I wouldn’t have gotten to play!”

“So, it’s fine that Lucas can’t play, but terrible if you can’t? That’s a load of shit, Wheeler. Lucas is supposed to be your friend.”

“He is my friend-“

“Then act like it!” Harrington says. “Will and El aren't here anymore; are you really okay with losing Lucas, too?”

“That is not fair,” Mike’s tone is almost flat as he glares at Harrington.

“Steve, you’re being defensive, right now,” Dustin speaks up, giving Harrington a pointed look.

Those words cause a shift in Harrington for some reason. Eddie watches him deflate before turning back to Eddie and saying, “If you want Lucas to believe you don’t hate him, you’d go to the game, too.”

“Lucas can draw his own conclusion about how I feel. I’m not responsible for his emotions, Harrington,” Eddie growls. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he feels a little regret. He didn’t say anything untrue but it’s not how he really feels. He’s not usually this dismissive of Hellfire member’s feelings but Harrington’s mere presence has set him into fight mode and he realizes he’s saying things he doesn’t believe just to argue. Why is he trying so hard to get into a fight right now?

“You’re right, but you’re also older than him and should take some responsibility for how you act around him,” Harrington says, and Eddie feels shame. He fucking hates it. Only Wayne’s able to evoke shame from him, and it’s bullshit that Harrington’s doing it now. “He thinks you’re being shitty to him, on purpose. He thinks you treat him differently than you do Dustin or Mike. And that’s fucked up. He’s just a kid, he looks up to you, and he's been through enough.”

Eddie doesn’t argue back. Harrington is right. Eddie knows he’s right. That shame coils in his gut, and he’s pissed that it’s Harrington making him feel that way. That it’s Harrington who is pointing out Eddie’s shortcomings.

There’s a shuffling sound and Dustin is standing, shoving his things into his backpack. He doesn’t say anything, but he does look at Mike. The two seem to have a silent conversation because after a moment Mike nods, and begins to gather his stuff, too.

“So, you two are out?” Eddie’s asks. He tries to keep his voice neutral, but he feels a little betrayed. Of course, Harrington shows up and ruins everything for him. He should have known he’d never stack up against Steve Harrington.

It’s childish to think because Dustin and Mike aren’t picking Harrington. He knows that. He knows they’re picking Lucas, their lifelong friend.

And yet.

It’s like Eddie is fifteen and a sophomore again, getting picked last for PE games and group projects. Not being ‘cool’ enough, which had made younger him feel not good enough.

“Harrington’s right,” Dustin says as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, “Lucas does really want to be here. He sounded real upset when he asked us to talk to you about changing the day of the game. I also really want to play, it’s going to suck missing the final session, but it’s going to suck more to bail on a years-long friendship.”

“Yeah. Lucas has never bailed on us,” Mike adds, even though he sounds upset for agreeing.

Erica lets out a put-upon sigh, “he has bailed on me, but never when it mattered, I guess. I expect that you’re buying the tickets, Steve?”

“Unbelievable!” Eddie throws his hands in the air, anger in his voice, probably laced with the hurt he feels. This was always going to be the outcome. Ever since the first time Dustin brought up Harrington, Eddie knew he’d be second fiddle. He shouldn’t feel so upset by this but fuck, he does.

“A compromise?” Harrington offers. “Mike, when are you back?”

“Uhh, the plane is supposed to land Thursday afternoon; I’ll be back in town that night sometime.”

“Great,” Harrington looks to Eddie. “Can you guys play next Friday, or even Thursday night if Mike isn’t jet-lagged too much?”

“School’s locked up next week,” Dustin answers before he can. Which is fine, he was going to say the same thing anyway.

“What about your basement, Mike?” Harrington changes his attention to Mike.

“Won’t fit all of us,” Mike says. “It was barely enough room when it was just Dustin, Lucas, Will, and I. The table's not big enough.”

“Plus, it stinks like boy,” Erica wrinkles her nose, “unwashed, gross boy.”

“It’s not that bad!”

“Yes, it is,” Harrington says.

“Steve, I have a compromise,” Erica says. “Regarding a promise you made to me. For life.”

Erica now has Harrington’s full attention it seems, and also Eddies, because what kind of lifelong promise has Harrington made to this child? “Yes, Erica?” Harrington asks.

“We play at your house next Friday. You will provide snacks and pizza,” she says it like it’s decided, before pointing her finger at Harrington, then dragging her hand through the air to point at everyone, “and all you nerds will stop bickering like old people. You’ll also have to buy our tickets because I didn’t bring any money. In return, I will shorten your life debt to the day after I graduate from high school.”

“Done! Deal!” Harrington accepts instantly, easily, and with a lot of relief in his voice. What the fuck did he owe Erica? Eddie’s dying to know, because he’s curious by nature. Not because anything about Harrington actually interests him. “I’ll be buying all the basketball tickets, and just tell me what pizza you want. That work for everyone?”

“Your parents will be okay with that?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, they’ll be gone by Friday for sure so no issue. So, will that work for everyone?” Harrington asks.

Eddie exchanges looks with his friends, a silent agreement to go with whatever they want. He hopes they say no, but Jeff speaks an affirmative first, so he, Gareth, and Frankie parrot that yes.

Erica stalks up to Harrington, stopping just in front of him, hand out, palm up. With a sigh, Harrington pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and drops it into Erica’s hand. Erica says, “I’ll get back to you on the pizza I want. I’ll go buy tickets. Are you all coming?”

Gareth says, “Uh, Harrington’s not gonna buy-“

“I said are. You. Coming?” Erica repeats, hands on her hips.

“Yes,” Gareth answers, then looks surprised he did. Eddie’s surprised, too, but only a little. He really likes Erica. He’s not going to be in school when her time to really join the club comes, but he’s going to make sure Gareth recruits her anyway. Somehow.

Erica gives one nod and heads out the door.

Eddie just watches for a moment as everyone gathers their things before he heaves a sigh and starts to pack up, too.

It’s not until Harrington speaks that Eddie realizes he’s alone with him in the green room, everyone else having left already. “I'm sorry. I’m sorry for coming in here and like, immediately attacking you. That wasn’t cool of me.”

Eddie looks him over before scoffing. “It’s whatever, man.”

“It’s really not,” Harrington says. “I know that, like, a lot of work goes into this game and I’m sorry. So, like, if you want anything extra, or need something for the game next week, I’ll get it. I’ll help however I can.”

Eddie pauses in the middle of his clean up, to look up at Harrington and study him. Those were the last words he expects to come out of Harrington’s mouth. An apology? Surely he’s entered the Twilight Zone. Harrington not only looks sincere, but sounds it, too.

He hates how, ever since Harrington’s arrival, Eddie feels like he’s lost control of his emotions. He’s always been on a hair trigger when Harrington and his stupid, handsome face were near. It’s the one crush he was never able to fully get over. And he hates it. He hates that he feels anything for the ex-king of Hawkins High besides contempt.

What should he say here? Thank you? Fuck off?

When Eddie finally replies, he settles for, “I don’t know if I hate you or not.”

“That’s fair,” Harrington says quietly, sincerely, and Eddie hates that, too. Hates that he can see the Harrington Dustin is always praising. If even just a little. Speaking of Dustin.

“I’ve got to know, Harrington. How’d this group of kids get to be so important to you?” Eddie goes back to gathering up the stuff on the table, needing something to do or he’s going to do something stupid. Like let Harrington have his full attention. "Why is their continued friendship important to you?"

“I used to babysit them. Try and keep them out of trouble, which is impossible because they’re too fucking curious and smart. That’s a godawful combination, you know?”

Eddie lifts one corner of his mouth upwards in a smile he tries to fight back down because, “My uncle would agree with you.”

“Yeah, well, they don’t need a babysitter anymore but-“ Harrington cuts his words off, and when Eddie glances to him, he’s wearing a thoughtful expression. Harrington finally continues with, “But they’re family now. They can be a bunch of shitheads, but I love them. And they hate it when I say this, but they should get to be kids as long as they can.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the time to process the words and he gathers up his things. Maybe he is wrong about Harrington. Maybe, he has changed. People are allowed to do that, Eddie knows, but he’s never witnessed it. Not really.

“Help me load what I’ll need for the session next week into my van and I’ll think about forgiving you for ruining this one,” Eddie says once everything is gathered.

“Yes!” Harrington agrees, a bit too eagerly and quickly. Like he couldn’t wait to be useful to Eddie in some way. Eddie shoots him a confused and concerned look before picking up the first stack of things and heading out. Between the two of them they make quick work of it all.

When they finally get to the gym, Dustin is sitting on the sidewalk waiting for them with their tickets. Eddie follows Dustin into the gym and watches with amusement as Dustin manhandles Harrington into sitting next to Mike. Dustin then sits next to Harrington, then pats the spot next to him while grinning at Eddie. Eddie looks up and sees that Gareth, Jeff, Frankie, and Erica have taken seats towards the top of the bleachers. He debates joining them but ends up dropping onto the bench next to Dustin.

“Oh, shit.” He hears Harrington say to himself.

“What, what is it?” Dustin asks.

“Brenda.”

“What?”

“Brenda!” Harrington hisses, “I, uh, I stood her up. To come to your game instead.”

Eddie swivels to look at Harrington, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in both surprise and delight as he asks, “You ditched a date to play DnD?”

Harrington and Eddie just look at each other for a moment before he watches Harrington blush with embarrassment. “Like I said. Dustin asked.”

Eddie shakes his head because he can’t believe Harrington. Steve ‘Lady’s Man’ Harrington ditched a lady because a fourteen-year-old asked him to. He turns back to the court, so he doesn’t give away how cute he thinks that is.

Wait. No. He doesn’t think anything Harrington does is cute. He doesn't!

Since he���s looking at the court, Eddie looks for Lucas and finds him just in time to see Lucas’s face light up when he sees the whole club sitting there. There’s that shame from earlier back, pooling in his gut.

Everyone stays for the whole game. They all get to see Lucas make the winning shot. Eddie finds himself cheering with the rest of the stands.

He joins everyone with swarming Lucas. He doesn’t push in and get close, the shame in his stomach keeping him at a distance, but he does make eye contact and gives two thumbs up. Lucas looks overjoyed at just that, and it’s suddenly too much inside. Too loud.

He needs to go.

He makes it halfway to his van before he hears Harrington again.

“Hey, Eddie, wait!”

Eddie does wait, turning as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Harrington. Not done turning my night upside down?”

“Nah, man. Just wanted to give you my number.”

“Your number?” Eddie says, voice a bit delirious because what the fuck. Why would Harrington want Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson to have his number?

“Yeah. So that when it’s closer to the Dungeons game you can call, let me know the time that works for you all. Maybe even drop off some of that stuff I helped you load before the game? Whatever makes it easier for you.”

“Oh,” why is he disappointed by that answer? What had he been hoping it would be? “Yeah. Sure. I don’t have a pen on me-“

“No issue. Already wrote it down,” Harrington says, pulling the paper from his pocket, offering it to Eddie.

He reaches out slowly and takes it, balling his fist around it without looking at it, eyes locked onto Harrington's face. The nearest light source is behind Harrington, so he can’t see the features of his face but that’s fine. He’s not looking for them. He stares, just looking. Harrington has not been what he thought he would be. Eddie’s not used to being wrong about things. Harrington confuses him, makes him a little crazy, and he’s got a week to unpack the why of that. Dare he say it, he might be looking forward to the game at Harrington’s house.

Eddie turns on his heel and heads off into the night without another word. If he stays any longer he might try something stupid, like asking if he and Harrington might have a shot at friendship after all.

“Okay then. Have a good night! See you next week!” Harrington shouts at his back and Eddie lets himself smile about it.