#despite? because of? because she remembers when she was on the other end and it fucking sucked

[rottingghosty]

The Hunt of Joker | DC X DP

ERRORS WILL BE MADE BECAUSE I’M AN OVERWORKED PERSON

“What?” The Ghost King of the Infinite Realms hissed out in rage.

Danny stared down at where his Spymaster, a liminal who willingly stood up to take on the title to keep an eye on the human realm for him— was kneeling still as they waited for Danny to process their report. The silent in the throne room was deafening and yet his Spymaster— Lucero Castillo continued on to stay defiantly at him to showcase the seriousness of the situation.

“He’s called the Joker, he’s killed and caused more harm than I’ve realized. The person tasked at keeping an eye on him had failed and the man got away from landing in the realms for his trial longer than I’d like to admit.” Lucero said with a bitter tone, their anger obvious in the moment. Danny could understand, seeing the countless ghosts who landed in the realms because of the Joker grew.

Knowing that the Joker managed to defy death and kept inflicting it? It made Danny’s blood boil as he remembered the death of one of Lady Gotham’s Knights, the boy was young— so young that Danny wept to himself in the shelter of his own keep because that was a young boy who despite everything still tried to save his own mother. Danny felt like he was looking to a mirror every time he saw the Robin, purely because they were both teenagers— kids who had died. It was a limited time that Danny spent with Robin- Jason but enough that Danny missed him when the boy disappeared.

“You’ve kept tabs?” Danny rumbled out, his words echoing with authority that caused the ghosts in the throne room to straighten and Lucero to give a grin, their fangs glinting in the light of the ghost flames that lit up the room.

“Once I realized, I made sure to keep tabs on the clown. I figured it’d be a good premise for a hunt.”

A hunt… Lucero wasn’t wrong. A hunt would be good, it’d allow those who had been harmed by him. The ghosts will enjoy the thrill of hunting down their own killer, he’s sure Gotham’s shades and lingering ghosts would enjoy it as well. Lucero would keep an eye on the hunt, put a stop to any ghosts who stepped out of line and protect any humans.

Danny’s fingers drummed against the arm rest of his throne, the crown above his head flickering wildly as he thought it over.

“I approve of this hunt, it’s been too long.” Danny said as he gave a crooked smile before gesturing to Pandora who immediately began to speak the hunt in existence with another ghost besides her writing it down so a missive would appear before every victim of Joker that had died and lives in the realms.

“Under the orders of High King, the Hunt of the human named Joker the Maddened False Clown, the man who has denied our Mother’s embrace and who has cruelly ended lives of others before their ended time. The Spymaster has been deemed the Watcher of this Hunt and those who had been harmed by him may indulge in the hunt. The hunt will begin in a week’s time.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Jason felt that something in Gotham was different, the air felt charged in a way he never felt even before his death. He was more in tune with Gotham than any other person, he knew Gotham at its core just as she knew him at his very being. It’s why he claimed Crime Alley as his when he had come back, why he dug his roots and kept digging them even if people tugged him and tried to make him change his tune about the Alley.

They didn’t understand.

Nobody understood the fact that Crime Alley is the very heart of Gotham, how she thrives on its very essence and how even at her weakest she relies on it to protect the rest of Gotham. The City Spirit loomed over him from the shadows, her hands placed on his shoulders to keep ahold of and giving a motherly croon whenever the Bats came into his haunt.

The leylines that Gotham lived on seemed to beat along as the excited trills and chirps of various ghosts were heard as he walked through the Alley, they sounded like a murder of crows in the death infested city. Shadows and blurs of greens and blues darted around, seeking. Hunting.

A soft croon from shade caught Jason’s attention, watching it peer shyly up at him with a wide childlike gaze. The shade was in an alleyway, one that Jason knew the kids around used to run after stealing some food that he knew Mrs. Jimenez purposely put on her windowsill for to take. He debated on ignoring it, wanting to head home because his skin felt too tonight, his pulse thundering in ways even adrenaline rush never could.

The shadows beckoned. Jason followed.

“Do you guys feel that?” Steph asked at family dinner of the month, her eyes darting around to catalogue the Bats reactions. Everyone looked on edgy, as if a single pin needle could drop and it’d shatter every peaceful pretense they had. Jason however looked at ease, as if he didn’t feel like he was a prey at the moment.

“Yeah, it’s made a lot of things brighter. I had to be careful during patrol because I’d start getting migraines from the lights.” Duke said as he poked his fork into his pasta, eyes hidden behind sunglasses that he wore to prevent his lingering headache from flaring into something worse.

“Oh it’s probably cause of the Hunt.”

A silence occurred before chaos erupted.

☁️☁️☁️☁️

NOTE: I am a firm believer that while Jason doesn’t remember anything from during his time dead, he knows ghost culture because its ingrained into his very being and has been aware of all the shades/ghosts of crime alley because its his haunt and he is protective of them as he is of humans. He’s basically Lady Gotham’s disgruntled feral cat and she’s basically throwing him at the shades as exposure therapy to the ✨other side ✨

also Jason casually dropping the fact of the Hunt is so funny cause he’s just reading a book while eating. Like hahaha yeah it’s cause of the Hunt :) we all had died or had brushed with death enough that we feel the excitement of the dead ! Jason is also very much unaware that the hunt is AIMED at Joker and pretty much. has a dead joker dropped at his feet by excited kiddo shades because !!! PRESENT FOR PAPA !!! before it gets yoinked into the infinite realms by Lucero.

morally grey danny because he is balance !! HE IS A KING !! he has the right to choose who dies !!! tbis was done at 2am again and scheduled to post at 7am

[mihii-i]

hi, Could you make a story about Mizu x fem, the reader works in a brothel and Mixu ends up meeting her there and falling in love. Sorry my english is bad

cruelty of pleasure.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, afab reader, mentions of sex work/prostitution, prostitute reader, implied sexual assault (not by edo japan’s standards but still), reader thinks mizu is a male, episode 4 spoilers, reader isn’t ugly per-se but a low ranked prostitute bro idk, obviously has themes discussing sex so not entirely sfw, bye this turned out so bad I can’t even look at this, short fic, rushed I apologize feel free to request again if you don’t like it, not proofread.

A/N: yessss I adore my beautiful half white half japanese samurai someone get the spray bottle and scream nurse she’s out again because i legitimately have a crush on this woman irl it’s not funny anymore ALSO EW WHY DOES MY TEA TASTE LIKE 99% HONEY WITH BOOTYHOLE also remember, this fic is RUSHED DONT EXPEXT IT TO BE GOOD.🕯️

Quivering breaths drawled from the cherry red smudges of your lips in shallow exhales, thighs twitching as you scrambled away from the warrior spread out nude on his back before you. You promptly retracted your leg into the baring, thin fabric of your ikat patterned kimono loosely draped over your body being the only article of clothing that covered you.

Being amongst the lower ranks, and ultimately deemed as less desirable in a venereal world of pleasure claiming your life, you had always found yourself caged in the grueling depravity of men who couldn’t be fulfilled by simply bedding a woman. Even the most extreme of desires that sparked within Madam Kaji’s teahouse as a stream of peculiarities after the other fell short of meeting the expectations of a few who couldn’t reach their release at sight of torture itself.

You’ve seen it all, the horrific ends to which their cruelty reached to simply relish in the metallic taste of blood spilling onto their tongue, as if it was a cup of tea rather than the agony of a drained woman. Despite the surges of pain searing through your body, the sting seeping along your sore muscles as you struggled to keep up the position you were flexed into on multiple occasions, the god awful smile and facade of enjoying a man’s advances for the sake of his fantasy remained stretched along your cheekbones through fat tears brimming your eyes occasionally.

Kaji kept you in her care as she had promised, safe from everything besides the torment of the men forced onto you among the semi-comfortable accommodations of where you rested alone, clouds of your thoughts snug beside you as company. You couldn’t exactly trace back to when exactly you had been sold off to the teahouse years ago, stumbling upon being shoved inside and quickly bought in the blink of an eye.

Kaji eyed your reserved, young self shrinking away from the intimidating paper doors lined up and boxed around every corner you glanced upon, sliding open like the puzzle of a labyrinth that would tear you open on sight. In a way, Kaji had took remorse on you, although she wouldn’t dare to act on it. The older woman observed you from afar when she caught sight of the subtle jerks in your body language within the dimly lit room, hands shivering as you attempted to steady your grip on the teapot filled with sake, spilling into the slight bowl curve of the cup steadily.

Pity fogged her vision as her eyes frequented to glance through the cut peephole dragging open, eyelids lowering upon seeing the dripping wax of the candle puddled at its base to illuminate the sick sight of heaping fear fighting its way back down your throat. Your pathetic whimpers and nails clawing at anything you could find below you to ground yourself only wrenched her heart at the disgusting view of you thrashing about against the tatami mats.

Clearly in pain from the stretch, yet unable to run nor cry. Only take in the sickening scent of sake and sweat stinging your nostrils in the unbearable heat blistering against you, neck tilted in the illusion to grant him access, yet only eyeing the paper doors through tears crowning your lashes as your vision blurred together gleams of gold bouncing off white.

Swallowing back the heaps of drool piled in your mouth, gliding down your throat painfully as you rose to your feet, bare legs trembling with your thighs clamped together. Your fingertips treaded along the thin layer of the sliding door, gently pushing along the sheets delicate under your hand as your nails grazed along the rimmed wood.

Limping out of the room, your head tilted back to the sight of the man passed out, bare as he jerked in your sleep in the confines of the furnished room barely lit by the stubby candle flickering along the threaded straws. You meekly slid the door back shut, each step of yours planted along the floorboards drawn out in slow motion through your head spinning in a sharp jab for every waking moment you stood.

The ache pumping across your body burned at your calves, nearly unable to walk any further across the small prickles poking at your heels continued to rip away your ability to walk properly, knees buckling inward as your palm gripped at a nearby pillar to stabilize yourself as your dry mouth hung agape.

"(Name)..? What on earth are you doing on the floor like that?"

Your hazy eyes raked over the tall woman towering before you, intimidating shadow looming before you like a ruthless monster. Madam Kaji's brows furrowed at your heavy breaths expanding against your constricted chest with a death grip digging into the splintering wood of the pillar, glancing up to meet her eyes digging into you with the sting of her judgement written all over her face.

“I..”

“Get yourself to the dressing area. You look a mess.” She instructed, eyes fixed on your trembling thighs struggling their way back up, tensing up the fatigued muscle in your futile efforts to cease the shaking and remain upright. Curling your toes into any stability of the floor chafing against the bare soles of your feet was the only grounding that held you back from cracking off the edge, similarly to how your sanity wore thin in the confines of a pleasure house.

Your skull throbbed along its fleshy confines as you stumbled into the unruly heat fogged thick along the dressing room, eyes of the other women dead set on you the moment their head whipped around. Every pair of eyes lining each little outline of your body like a hawk wasn’t difficult to detect, nor were you unaccustomed to the lingering stares that stabbed you with their gaze.

Yet despite the common nature of such an occurrence being routine to you, the overly shrewd inspection continued to burn deep against the base of your neck, as if everyone around you passed a judgement of resolute hatred directly unto your soul itself. Of course, you knew the selfish strings of plaguing thought were false, everyone here had been sold in on varying conditions, concerns aimed solely toward themselves in their own realm of level anxiety matching yours in the cruelty of pleasure.

Fingers walking along your shoulder, the cusp of your hand snaked under the loose fabric draped over your collarbone, tugging down at the withering fades of your cheap kimono. As the fabric brushed further and further down, more bruises of purplish red sprouted in a trail down your body as if it was the spread of hellfire itself, crawling down in red claws to latch onto you whole in the grim reminder of your agonizing lifelong doom.

Chatters of the other prostitutes flushed out as worthless bursts of noise against your ears, aimlessly raking your gaze over your knees brushed against the floor with the gloss clouding your eyes becoming unnoticeable at this point. Their laughs and banter was merely an act wasn’t it? So how come the poor girls got to speak amongst one another in joy without sobbing nightly at the reality of their life being nothing but wringing them dry until they had not even an ounce of strength to stand?

“I’m not taking that blue eyed freak, why do I always get the ugly ones?”

“So far he turned down everyone.”

“Let him turn down me.”

Dragging yourself out into their periphery, you groggily blinked upon taking in the exasperated comments of the others fixing themselves intently in the mirrors specked with flicks of stray dust. Some sort of foreigner in the brothel? That couldn’t be possible, there were no white men in Japan. Not by a long shot. Perhaps he was mixed, although that taboo would be too disgusting to even imply in the stir of hatred that fostered amongst the tensions of an already hostile society.

“(Name), go check on him, I will be there alongside the gentleman shortly.” Kaji immediately ordered, her voice cutting through your train of thought. You couldn’t even speak up to object, voice far too strained and energy drained dry to think about rebutting any statement drawled out of her lips.

With a brief nod, you staggered to your feet, smoothing out the fabric drawn over your body as you attempted to mask the limp prevalent in your pummeled steps.

By the time you had laid your eyes upon the stranger, he seemed..strange. As if his lack of interest in anything around the brothel was oddly comforting to you, considering how used to you were with men getting their hands all over you quickly in violent fashions the moment they stepped into a whorehouse like this.

Your footsteps remained cautious before you knelt before the stranger, the orange tint of his glasses obscuring the view of you in the rest of annoyance he seemed to flaunt around to add to that brooding demeanor.

Those eyes.

You saw them. Blue, just like everyone had said, yet no monstrosity or vile malice presided within those waves, only hate.

“I said I don’t want any company.”

That..was far more comforting than the usual lunge or assault of ripping off your clothing on sight. Well, there truly was someone who didn’t wish to abuse your body for their satisfaction. Someone before you who beheld the eyes of a demon, yet the intent of his in such a place truly emphasizesf he was not human.

As, a human wouldn’t have enough good in his heart to reject any desire of his, not everyone was truly trying to tear you apart on sight.

Perhaps, you liked this devil. Grown fond of him already in fact.

A/N: I’m very sorry to the requester but I got too frustrated with this and stopped it at a cliffhanger I’d like to apologize a thousand times over for the poor quality, as well as my abrupt ending of said fic. I’m going to chill a little bit on the fanfiction since my mental health has been declining quite a bit and I have finals as well as a mock exam in the morning so I must sleep early right now—contemplated deleting this cause I didn’t like how it turned out, but I did NOT want to disappoint with nothing so I came out with this shitshow. Once again, I am truly sorry. And I promise my next fic will have some sort of quality within it.

Yours truly, mihi.

this except she’s not straight not in my fucking eyes

god I hate everything that breathes in my direction rn (minus my mother love her)

[alicentsgf]

what do you think Shauna’s thinking when Jackie tells her “I was trying to save you” right after the plane crash like do you think she’s confused or flattered. because I remember she didn’t say anything but honestly it’s understandable given how much was happening at the time.

Honestly i didnt read it as confused or flattered particulary, it was more just acceptance. Shaunas always known Jackie needs her, its the not feeling known or seen by Jackie that hurt. Jackie says "I was trying to save you, I thought you were-" and then she trails off but the implication is obviously "I thought you were going to die."

I talk a lot about whats going on in Shaunas head but in a lot of ways Jackies just as complex. She wants and needs Shauna, and despite how it came across sometimes she does know her, she always manages to read her. She knew Shauna was lying to her, thats why she read the journal. The sometimes being dissmissive of Shauna sorta feels like more of a self-preservation thing than anything. Jackie struggling to earnestly compliment Shauna I think its maybe more that shes so overwhelmed by how much she does notice and care that shes kinda afraid of it. She plays it off, teases Shauna instead, she cant say anything genuine. Everythings wrapped up in a joke. Shes also fearful of shauna abandoning her, which is why she ends up suffocating her slightly. She never considers Shauna might want to go elsewhere for college, not because she doesnt think Shauna has incredible potential or because she doesnt consider that Shauna wants to strike out on her, but because subconciously she already knows both of these things are probably true and she doesnt want to face them.

To me Shaunas reaction to the "For the record, I was trying to save you-" looks like resignment more than anything imo. She just looks sad and can barely meet Jackies eyes. Shes perhaps thinking that of course Jackie had to take control and make the decision for the both of them, as she always does. Of course she had to save Shauna. And the thing is Shauna loves feeling wanted, so her feelings when it comes to Jackie are very muddled. Always feeling needed but not appreciated. As far as Shaunas concerned, this act might not be anything more then selfishness on Jackies part - she needs Shauna so she had to save her and Vans just collatoral. This would be Shaunas resentment speaking more than anything, but theres a nugget of truth to it. Jackie did have to save Shauna because she literally cant picture her life without her. This is why it always had to be Jackie that died that night. Shauna always felt like the sidekick but its Jackie who could never truly exist without Shauna, not the other way around.

[aoex-shipping-events]

Your thoughts on the dynamic between Rin and Amaimon? The animosity and rivalry that they have for each other is still definitely there, and I think it's very interesting that's it mutually negative.

Rin has matured in his character, but still does not like Amaimon, nor his actions and behavior (which is quite reasonable). He's arguably the more emotionally mature one.

Amaimon, in his own way, has also gone through changes (although with more... duress from Mephisto), and basically has to cope with his hatred for Rin due to Mephisto.

He has his own logic for disliking Rin, but I would definitely argue it is not as... reasonable as Rin disliking Amaimon. Though he probably feels disrespected, he starts the fights with Rin, even if it was on Mephisto's orders. He's still quite intrigued by Rin's power, it seems, when his sword broke.

While Amaimon was impassive but somewhat curious at Rin during the beginning, he has become more volatile regarding Rin. For Rin, it's the opposite.

They have had moments where they have to put aside their feelings and work together, like when breaking Yukio out of True Cross custody, and being in close proximity to each other during the battle against the Illuminati and Satan.

However, they haven't really talked again, despite being in proximity with each other. Also, I think there might be SOME chance for growth in their dynamic with Amaimon now shifting more of his hatred toward Mephisto.

They're both realizing they're pawns in Mephisto games. Mephisto is becoming somewhat more amiable towards Rin, while becoming more dismissive with Amaimon; a swap in treatment compared to early on in the series.

Hi anon, thanks for sending this in!

There is a lot of different points to explore regarding the relationship between Amaimon and Rin. Personally, I am not so sure I would call their dynamic one of mutual rivalry. So far, it has been pretty one-sided on Amaimon's end.

As far as Rin goes, I do not think that he particularly dislikes Amaimon as much as he doesn't regard him as anything other than a potential threat, and one not at the top of his mind at that, given how hard he struggles to remember his name.

I think, in the same way if he were to bump into Shiratori at school, he just has an awareness of, "Oh, great. It's that asshole." But beyond that character judgement, I don't think Rin is the type of person who holds on to a grudge to the point of antagonizing someone (unlike what we have seen Izumo or even Ryuuji do in the past). He has a hot temper and is quick to react--he will throw down as needed without hesitation--but in the end, he would rather not be getting into fights in the first place. I think that explains quite well why he's not bothering to spare him a glance or even talking to him in the latest arc. He's just not currently interested in him, to the point of not even protesting when he left. Perhaps that might change if Amaimon becomes a more an invested ally instead of continuing to want to do his own thing.

From Amaimon's end, there's a bit more to consider. To start with, his personality. Kato recently released a new guidebook, and in it, she notes that he has an aggressive type of personality. We see this as early as chapter 7, when we are shown that in his free time, he's just beating up things in Gehenna. It is because he is prone to aggression (to the point of him bringing the earth to the brink of destruction) that he was sealed in the first place, and that aspect of his personality remains present to this day, as we see him not only constantly picking a fight with Rin, but really going wild when he does. He likes to fight (he has mentioned that he considers it a pastime to alleviate boredom) and doesn't shy away from going on a careless rampage, unmindful of who might get injured in the crossfire or what he might damage, a detail which has Mephisto constantly scolding him for not holding back.

Since Rin is the youngest in their ranks, I can imagine why Amaimon would be extra ticked off at their difference in strength. He went in on their fight thinking he was going to come out on top, and wasn't impressed by him during their first meeting. But things haven't quite turned out that way since then, and he hasn't been able to get the upper hand against Rin, which makes him hold on to this fixation to beat him.

At the end of the day, in Gehenna, power is everything, and although he knows his current place ranks at 7th, I do think he's particularly irked at the thought of Rin outranking him at all. For Mephisto and Lucifer on the other hand, their high place among the ranks of the Ba'al is something so unquestionable that he will show a certain level of respect to them, but not one that necessarily makes him subservient as he's not particularly obedient to Mephisto, but he does listen to him to an extent.

We can see this in particular in the forest arc. After Mephisto allowed him to enter past his wards, he warned him several times not to hurt people, or cause too much destruction, and if he could play by these rules, he could fight Rin if he wanted to. Mephisto most certainly knew which strings he was pulling, giving Amaimon's propensity to fight, but at the end of the day it was Amaimon's choice to take the bait.

For that same reason, I don't think he truly hates Mephisto as the scene where he proclaimed that was framed in the way a child would say the same in the middle of a tantrum. If there is anyone he does hate, I would rather say that's Shemihaza. That being said, to return to the topic of his relationship with Mephisto specifically, I think that all the Demon King's do have a degree of mutual respect for each other regardless of their rank and personal grievances. Sure, Amaimon may feel indebted that Mephisto's efforts panned out in getting him a vessel, but he isn't cowed by the idea of getting chewed out or hurt by Mephisto multiple times.

He's hit Mephisto without hesitation, ignored him, and told him to shut up, despite knowing Mephisto is stronger than him and can retaliate accordingly at his own whim.

When Mephisto set him free at last, it was under certain conditions. Personally, given how their previous interactions have gone, I believe that condition was tied to Amaimon’s ability to stay in school grounds, so he had to compromise. This would be the only way to continue to keep an eye on Rin. I am of the belief that if he chose to, I am sure he could have escaped, knowing Mephisto would have no interest in imprisoning him again if he got away, given that he only did it to cool down his rage. Yet Amaimon continues to linger around time after time because he has vested interested in being around.

With that thought in mind, I don't think he has any skin in the game right now as far if whether he wants to go join Lucifer against Mephisto either. If he's up to anything at the moment, it's seeing how to get himself unsealed, so he might be on the way to El. And given his potential involvement with Shiemi's missing memories, perhaps he might be more allied to the Uzai than we might expect…?

[breckstonevailskier]

I agree. Fallout is clearly a show that is designed for people who actually pay attention while watching. As in, this isn't a "second screen" show you can have on in the background while you're busy doing chores or surfing the web on your phone.

Whenever I see people complain about them "screwing up the timeline" or whatnot regarding Shady Sands' destruction conflicting with the events of Fallout: New Vegas, for instance, I know those people weren't paying attention to notice that the timeline on Vault 4's blackboard doesn't say Shady Sands was destroyed in 2277. It just says that the events that led to Shady Sands' destruction started in 2277, which we know to be the year Rose MacLean arrived in Shady Sands as well as when the First Battle for Hoover Dam happened. And smart viewers would put together the same dots that Lucy is putting together: that whatever happened that led to the town's destruction started in the same year that Lucy's mother supposedly died (as set up by her earlier conversation with the Ghoul).

Similarly, whenever I’m given grief about how toxic Cooper and Lucy’s relationship is—literally no one is denying the way they met each other is messed up—they often forgo the fact that by the end of season 1 they are begrudging allies. That Lucy understands what he did to her wasn’t personal and decides to go with him mostly because she would die otherwise, but also because Cooper is her key to figuring things out. Ship wars aside, they’re on track to be at least friendly.

The biggest point to consider is that they're meant to be foils. Once we see all the pre-War flashbacks, it's clear that Lucy is meant to embody the sort of pre-War optimism and idealism that Cooper used to entail, and he loathes seeing this behavior reflected in the mirror because of what it cost him.

As for Lucy, it’s clear that by the end of the series Vault-Tec is in conflict with her closely held beliefs. And when she inevitably discovers what Cooper knows in season 2, it’s debatable whether or not she’ll ever want to live in the vault again.

Plus it's just a standard "feature" of the Fallout universe that those who set out from Vaults generally don't return to living in them. The Vault Dweller of the first game never returned to Vault 13 and instead became involved in establishing the NCR, while the Lone Wanderer in Fallout 3 was shunned upon returning to Vault 101.

And Lucy already clearly has had that moment of realization that she can't return to living in Vault 33 again, as she's found out that her entire reason for leaving the vault (to rescue her dad) was based on false pretenses. That's a big factor behind her tearing up as Hank tries to rationalize his actions and turn her to his side, and her expression of shell shock as the Ghoul is talking to her.

But when her and Maximus run in again, it won’t be so they can escape. Both of them will have their reasons for hating Vault-Tec by then and both of them will deal with it differently. Let’s remember how they handle morality. Both he and Lucy in season 1 saw things as black and white, often to their own detriments.

Now come season 2, it's a question of seeing Lucy try to maintain her values despite the rage she's clearly bottling up over losing everything, while Maximus tries to honor Moldaver's final request, behave like the idealized image of a knight he developed in his childhood, and potentially work through the flaw that is his impulsivity.

I got into a fight in the comments section on Pinterest where people are still saying that Cooper is married. This is what I’m talking about when I say media literacy is a lost art. Like unless something is spelled out for people by the character it concerns, it doesn’t exist… even though side characters were discussing Cooper Howard’s alimony as the reason for him ‘wasting time performing at kids parties’. No. Unless Cooper himself says “hello I’m a divorced dad” it’s not real.

Similarly, whenever I’m given grief about how toxic Cooper and Lucy’s relationship is—literally no one is denying the way they met each other is messed up—they often forgo the fact that by the end of season 1 they are begrudging allies. That Lucy understands what he did to her wasn’t personal and decides to go with him mostly because she would die otherwise, but also because Cooper is her key to figuring things out. Ship wars aside, they’re on track to be at least friendly.

And those who think the possibility of Maximus not being with Lucy is the end of his character are missing the point of both his and Lucy’s character arcs. Maximus has some shit to figure out. Mainly, which side is he on. He’s disillusioned with the Brotherhood by the end, but deserting would mean his death. At the same time, he’s also got the opportunity using his knighthood to “hurt the people who hurt [him]”.

“People” being Hank MacLean, Vault-Tec, and possibly others.

As for Lucy, it’s clear that by the end of the series Vault-Tec is in conflict with her closely held beliefs. And when she inevitably discovers what Cooper knows in season 2, it’s debatable whether or not she’ll ever want to live in the vault again. But when her and Maximus run in again, it won’t be so they can escape. Both of them will have their reasons for hating Vault-Tec by then and both of them will deal with it differently. Let’s remember how they handle morality. Both he and Lucy in season 1 saw things as black and white, often to their own detriments. Lucy learned when and how to break free from that (ethics teacher) but Max, by the end of the series, is veering towards violence as the answer and he’s seeing too many problems. The bear scene and the moment with the chicken fucker come to mind when I think about his future. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have lingered on those scenes.

Anyway.

No one comes out of this unscathed.

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[pocketgalaxies]

responding to orym's "what am i here to say" with the most earnest gentle curious non-judgmental "i don't know!" god i could cry about it.

[bridgyrose]

Okay, I went ahead and wrote something for this.

Jinx tried to clear her head as she watched a few falling stars skate across the night sky. She had never asked to be a symbol of rebellion for Zaun or for people to rally behind her name and face. But the way Isha and Sevika seemed to push her to take the lead, hearing how the people chanted her name and dyed their hair to use her as a symbol… 

It was only a matter of time before people realized why she took the name Jinx. 

Anything she became involved in inevitably went to shit because of her. Claggor, Mylo, and Vander were all dead because of her, Piltover and Zaun were on the brink of war, hundreds if not thousands of people were going to inevitably die because of her actions. And she was ready for it all to end. All she wanted was a world where Isha could be safe and grow up without the risk of being arrested for being born a Zaunite. 

She’d give up everything if it meant creating that world. 

Jinx’s mind went back to the stars, her eyes tracking each one that fell until one didnt quite act like the others. It crossed the sky brighter and faster than the rest and seemed to be heading straight towards the edge of the city. A smile crossed her lips as she stood up to watch the shooting star fall from the sky and down towards the bridge that separated Zaun from Piltover. Then, she grabbed her things to rush towards it, ready to see if there was anything she could use. 

She made her way through Zaun and towards the bridge as quickly as she could, climbing up a few buildings to run across the rooftops to try to make it before any other scavengers did. As she started to make her way towards the bridge, she paused when she saw a girl in a red cloak near the shores.

Jinx looked around to see if there was anyone around using the girl as a trap before walking over to her. “Are you okay?” 

“I-I’m fine,” the girl answered as she picked herself up, wobbling as she found herself supported by Jinx.

“I’ve never seen anyone fall from the sky like that before. What kind of magic was that? And where are you from?” 

“Magic?” the girl asked. She looked around, almost as if she was lost. “Where am I? I-I dont recognize this place.” 

“Well, you’re in Zaun right now, and the city across the bridge is Piltover,” Jinx answered with a glare as she stared at the other city. “You dont need to worry about going over there. Though, you never answered where you’re from. Let me guess, Noxus? No, you dont look like the others from there. Maybe Demacia.” 

“Vale.” 

“Vale? Never heard of it.” 

“I’ve never heard of Zaun or Pitlover either.” The girl sighed and looked up at the sky. “Though I’m not really sure how I got here. I remember falling into a void and then… seeing you. I’m Ruby.” 

“Jinx,” Jinx said just a little too quickly as she started to help Ruby towards her home. “You can stay at my place for the night. As long as you dont mind the mess.” 

Ruby gave a small nod. “Thanks. Though, I may need to stay longer until I can find a way home. Or until I can find my friends.”

“Your friends?” 

“Well, friend and sister. My sister, Yang, is tall and blonde and then Blake has black hair and-” Ruby pulled away from Jinx for a moment to mime cat ears, almost cringing at the thought of doing it. “-has cat ears.” 

“There’s a lot of people here with animal ears, so she might be a bit hard to find.” 

“Oh.” 

“But I’ll try to help you,” Jinx tried to reassure Ruby as she took her hand. “If you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” 

Jinx flashed a small smile to Ruby and helped her around. The days seemed to fly by as she tried to help Ruby find her friend and sister, but after a week of searching with nothing to show for it, even she could tell it was starting to weigh down on Ruby’s soul. 

From the stories she was told, Ruby seemed to be a great leader for those who followed her. Optimistic, always there for the ones she cared about, doing her best to make the world a better place despite everything that she’d been through. But losing a few of her friends when her school was attacked, learning she couldnt trust many of the adults she was following, having to make the choice of saving people from these monsters and the cold or following a dictator… it’d be enough to shove anyone down. 

Still, watching Ruby like this didnt sit right to Jinx. She walked over to the bed that Ruby was laying on and gently poked her. “Come on sleepy head, get up.” 

“There’s no point,” Ruby said, voice muffled by the pillow she spoke into. “Yang and Blake arent here, and as far as I’m aware, I dont have a way back home. Not… not that going home would do me any good. Atlas and Mantle are gone because of me. My mistakes destroyed a kingdom-” 

“You did your best with two shit choices,” Jinx interrupted. “Besides, I have something I want to show you.” 

Ruby sat up a bit. “Dont you have to be with Isha and Sevika?” 

“And get pulled into leading another riot?” Jinx asked with a scoff. “I’d… rather pass on that one. I’m sure they’ll be fine without me anyway. Less chance of me ruining things for them.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“Now come on and get up!” Jinx ignored the question and started to pull Ruby up and off the bed. “I know what will get a smile on your face.” 

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” 

“Not until we get there.” Jinx pulled Ruby through what remained of the bar turned nightclub and towards the workshop she used to make her weapons and toys. She opened the door with gusto and motioned towards her weapons. “My workshop!” 

Ruby slowly moved forward, reaching out for one of the bombs that hung from the pipes above. “You… made these?” 

“Yup,” Jinx answered, popping the “p” as she watched Ruby carefully caress them. She made her way to her workbench and dropped down into the chair. “Everything here is mine. I even made Sevika a new arm, not that she appreciates it. But since you said you liked weapons, I figured this might cheer you up.” 

“These are incredible.” 

“You really think so? Everyone else usually sees them as an annoyance or just kids toys.” 

“How do they work?” 

“With this.” Jinx pulled out a small hextech gem she had stashed away, showing it to Ruby. “Its called Hextech. Its like a… a crystalized magic that works with technology to power it up. Though, you do have to be careful with them. If you hit it just wrong…” she put the gem into her pocket and mimed an explosion sound. 

Ruby smiled a bit. “Sounds like dust.” 

“Dust? Like the stuff that forms if you leave things alone for too long?” 

“No, its a crystal that holds the elements in it that we use to power things on Remnant.” Ruby pulled away from the bombs and found a paper and pencil to draw with, creating the basic shapes she’d seen the crystals in. “Fire, earth, lightning, ice, gravity… no one knows exactly how it all came to be, but its shaped the way we defend ourselves. Some people used to crush the crystals and infuse them with thread to sew with them. Now, most people use them with weapons to give them elemental damage.” 

“That sounds a lot like magic.” 

“Its not magic.” Ruby paused. “I think.” 

“Around here, that might as well be magic.” Jinx turned back to the bomb she was working on. “Though most people dont seem to like it either way.” 

Ruby nodded. “I can understand that.” 

Jinx let Ruby continue to walk around, keeping her in the corner of her eye. It was nice to see Ruby finally smile, or at least not mope around. It wasnt long before she found herself transfixed by Ruby, watching her every move. Her heart started to pound in her chest and a blush started to cross her cheeks. 

Before long, she stood up and started to make her way to Ruby once more, gently putting a hand on her arm. “Even if I cant help you get home, I’m sure we’ll find someone who can.” 

“I think I want to stay here a while longer.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You’ve been nice to me and… honestly… my friends will be better off without me.” 

Jinx shook her head and gently placed a hand on Ruby’s cheek, turning her head. “I’m sure they’re worried about you. Maybe you just need a little time to clear your head and figure things out.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” 

Jinx gave a small smile and stared into Ruby’s eyes, not noticing until now how the light seemed to reflect in those silver eyes. She slowly leaned in, almost hesitant to try to kiss the girl until she felt their lips touch. Her fingers shook as she held Ruby close, pressing into the kiss until she heard the door slam open. 

“They took Isha!” Sevika half yelled out.

Jinx pulled away from Ruby, pink eyes nearly glowing. “What?!” 

“I tried to get Isha away from the soldiers, but they took her along with everyone else. We have to go get them out.” 

“Dammit!” Jinx yelled out as slammed her hand on her desk. Her mind raced as she swore she heard voices from Mylo, Claggor and Vi. Isha was the last of the family she had… that she cared to have. She wasnt ready to lose her. But if she was arrested, then trying to save her-

“I’ll come with you to get her out,” Ruby said quietly as she put a hand on Jinx’s shoulder. 

“You need to rest-” 

“And I owe you for helping me. So… let me return the favor. Though, I am going to need a weapon first.” 

Jinx paused for a moment as she looked around her workshop, a grin crossing her face as she saw a blade and gun she could use. “Then I know just the thing for you.” 

Arcane Jinx amd Arcane Ruby would be foils of eachother

no you don't understand, the idea of the two of them being in the same room together makes me ill. It'd be everything I ever wanted in life.

Like, they're both prodigies, right? Both seen as some type of savior (Jinx's savior era was incredibly short lived but personally I exist in a world where s2 act 2 was a 10 episode long exploration of Jinx's own sense of justice and purpose within her society and most of act 3 doesn't exist, so for now you live with me in that space), both are skilled inventors, both have deep-seated parental issues, both have big sisters who are lesbians.

I think the major interesting comparison between them is their view on themselves. Jinx, from her perspective, will never be enough. No matter what she does, who she helps or hurts, everything she loves will eventually be taken away from her. There's nothing she can do to change it, she's always going to be the loser in the end.

And tbh I think Ruby sees herself in a similar way by the time we get to volume 9. Every plan she makes feels like a failure, every step forward comes with two steps back. I think by the time vol 9 rolls around she truly believes she's failed completely in everything she's done.

And when you put them together. Oh, the utter confusion. They'd see the good in each other. it makes no sense why Jinx sees herself as cursed, she's resourceful, she's brilliant, she does everything she can to hold on to what she has, of course she should keep trying to find that happiness that she obviously deserves? It makes no sense that Ruby sees herself as a failure, she's strong willed and kind in a way Jinx never was. People flock to her for guidance and listen when she speaks, how could she not be the leader everyone sees her as?

And then they ki-

[possibly-eli]

hey guys i think im out of the trauma spiral my ex-quadmate put me in <- he is, in fact, not out of the trauma spiral his ex-quadmate put him in

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

In light of Brian Thompson being shot dead on my birthday (🎉🥳🎂) I'd like to share a personal story about UnitedHealthcare.

During the peak of COVID, my family all got sick. I couldn't be on my parents' insurance because they were both older and on Medicare. So, I had insurance through my University: UnitedHealthcare.

For some reason, rather than roll-over each year, I got a new plan each year that ended after May and didn't start until August, so I was uninsured for the summer months, but it was a weird situation that the university denied, and told us we were supposed to be insured year-round, it was messy.

Both of my parents went to the hospital, and I got sick too. I had to take care of my pets, and myself, and try to stay alive and keep my pets alive when I was so weak I could hardly move. When my parents came home, my condition got dramatically worse (I think my body knew it couldn't give out, because there was nobody to take care of me, so once my parents were okay, it completely crashed and failed.)

I started experiencing emergency symptoms. It was a bit hard to breathe, my chest hurt, and I was extremely delirious. I wanted to call my insurance to see if I was covered (this was during the summer) and I was connected to some nice person, probably making minimum wage, who told me with caution in her voice that my plan was expired. I had no active insurance, but she urged me to go to an emergency room. I remember saying something to the effect of "You just told me I don't have insurance, I can't go to the hospital, I can't afford it."

She sounded so genuinely worried and scared. I remember she said "You really don't sound good, you sound really sick, please call 9-1-1" and I think I just said "I can't afford it without insurance, don't worry, I think I'll be okay."

And she paused and said "I don't want to hang up the phone with you like this." And it sounded like she was holding back tears. And I don't remember what I said, I think that I would be okay, and I hung up.

I still think about her. I wonder if that phone call haunted her, or if she had dozens of calls like that a day. I wonder if she thinks about it at all, if she wonders if I died after she told me I didn't have insurance and therefore couldn't go to the hospital without incurring a tremendous financial burden. I wonder if she feels guilt or blame-- of course she shouldn't, it wouldn't have been her fault if anything had happened to me. Maybe it's self-centered to wonder if she thinks about it. I'm not the main character and it was just her job. But, still.

I think about how evil it was that we were put in that situation. Because offering year-long continuous coverage through the university plan would maybe cut into profits, maybe not benefit shareholders enough, maybe cut into Thompson's $10 million salary. While his minimum wage administrators have to feel afraid to hang up the phone, because on the other line someone might be dying, and they wouldn't know. While his patients hang up and decide to take their chances rather than put their family through that trauma.

This is UnitedHealthcare. This is Brian Thompson's legacy. This is why, understandably, an entire nation is jubilant that he was gunned down like the vermin he was. I don't care about his widow. I feel pity for his children, despite the fact that they will inherit millions, but I feel more pity for the children of his victims patients who are gone because they didn't want THEIR children to inherit crippling debt. Brian Thompson got what he fucking deserved. I pray that he not be the only one. I pray for continued safety, peace , and anonymity for his killer.

American healthcare is a disease.

[arolesbianism]

The last of my captains have been done! My freaks <3

[bakery-anon]

Omg….last chapter. Eggy I’m so scared. Like I’m shaking with anticipation.

Every single chapter of this story has been amazing. There has not been one chapter that has felt wrong or out of place. I have read and reread sentences and I love them. If you asked me to analyze this work and pick it apart I would want to do bad. I unfortunately am not good at that so I’ll just continue gushing about how good it is.

I love that even without Iwaizumi she’s happy. That her happiness wasn’t dependent on him and that she found Kiyoko. I love that she feels safe with Kiyoko. That there’s no rot when she’s with her, that things are nice that they’re both happy.

“Sometimes the right things hurt the most.” Eggy this is going to live rent free in my head.

Everything going well in your life but missing someone so much that it feels like it’s worse is so real. I relate to that so much omg. She feels like everything should be fine and she like feels guilty for her life going well bcs there’s someone she wanted to share it with??? Eggy did you like do a brain scan of me or something???? /j

Omg her calling her dad when she’s sad. Eggy there’s so many things I could say omg. Deep down she’s still just a child who wants to be held by her dad. Just a kid who wants to be loved. I’m gonna throw up /pos

Her wanting to move on with her life but being stuck is so real. Okay I get the Orpheus and Eurydice now guys. I see it.

I love that she tried to live her life without him. That she tried her best to move away from something that she knew wasn’t good for her but she loves him and it’s hard to give up things you love.

Eggy I love this ending. This ending is so hopeful. I don’t usually read stories like this, mostly because I want a Disney happy ending you know? I know I know I’m limiting myself yada yada but I’m so glad that I read this. All of your stories are so good. I love all the care that you put into them. I love this ending and ily eggy. This is beautifully written and I will be rereading it <3

-love bug <3 🍪

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter six -> a promise

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 2.7k

now playing: my hot piss by die spitz

Autumn cools everything down. The feverish sort of pain that made her almost delirious has chilled into a dull, steady ache. Kiyoko rests her head on her shoulder. They sit on the couch together, under a shared blanket, and watch old, cheesy horror movies. Every on-screen death makes Kiyoko flinch and hide her face under the blanket.

It’s odd, to be in her apartment, to have it be her own as well. Where the fridge is free of remnants of rotten food and is properly stocked with essentials. Where the furniture matches and there’s no stuffing spilling out of the cushioning. It’s small, and sometimes she has to fiddle with the pipes under the sink to avoid calling a plumber, but it’s nice. It’s well-kept and Kiyoko always has some kind of candle lit. The walls are white, just white, not stained yellow from years of cigarette smoking. The locks don’t look like they’re about to fall off the door. There’s no mold in the bathroom. No pest infestations. No decay in the hardwood floor.

It makes her feel so out of place.

“My parents helped with the deposit,” Kiyoko had explained to her, almost sheepishly, like this was something she should be ashamed of. “And with the first few months of rent while I built up some savings. It’s how I was able to get it.”

Her brother would’ve liked Kiyoko, she thinks. He would’ve liked her quiet demeanor, and the deliberate sort of way she carries herself. He would’ve liked how spending time with her is never overwhelming. He would’ve liked how her voice is like a small stream that runs down the street after a rainstorm.

They would’ve gotten along.

She has the thought that he would’ve hated Iwaizumi, and then tries to pretend that she didn’t.

Onscreen, a head is removed from a set of shoulders. She tries not to think of Iwaizumi. It makes her sick, even his name. Never once has she felt like she did the right thing. Kiyoko keeps telling her that sometimes, the right things hurt the most. But that doesn’t help. It doesn’t quell the nausea she feels at his memory. It doesn’t fade that dull, aching loneliness. It doesn’t make her feel better about leaving him.

Objectively, her life as improved post-Iwaizumi. She’s held onto the same job for several months in a row without incident (no spitting, cursing, or fighting-though that’s mostly due to Kiyoko). She actually has money in her bank account now, ¥50,901.96, after rent (which, isn’t a lot by any metric, but it’s definitely more than nothing). Her father stopped calling. Her diet is much more balanced. The cable’s better. She doesn’t really get mad anymore.

It's an improvement. A drastic one. Something she probably wouldn’t have been able to achieve on her own.

But it’s worse. It just feels worse.

Blood spews from a headless body, cartoonishly fake. Kiyoko squirms, and she doesn’t flinch.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

The bell on the door to the sports shop dings as the it closes, and a customer leaves with fresh tennis balls. She rests her cheek on the palm of her hand as she leans up against the counter. She’s drawing the earth as it explodes from the inside, splitting into dozens of chunks of land and ocean. “Who the fuck buys tennis balls in November?”

Kiyoko slides behind the counter to stand beside her, peering over her shoulder to watch her draw. “I dunno. Maybe he’s going somewhere warm,” she offers as a solution.

Kiyoko doesn’t hate people the way she does. She can’t ever hate someone just because she wants to; Kiyoko doesn’t ever want to. It makes her feel mean, since the feeling of hatred comes to her so naturally. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Noya thinks you’re cute,” Kiyoko says, suddenly stiffer when she talks. “He asked if you were going to go out with us tomorrow night.”

She doesn’t know who Noya is. She probably should. He’s probably someone that she’s met more than once. But she can’t conjure up the face that’s supposed to go with the name. “Which one’s he?” she asks, well past the point of caring if she seems rude to Kiyoko.

Kiyoko knows she’s rude, at this point.

“The short one,” she answers. “The one with the blond in his hair.”

Her pen digs into the notebook paper, adding shading around a blown-up chunk of earth. “Yeah, he’s cute, I guess.”

Kiyoko makes a noise of acknowledgement. “But you’re not into him.”

It’s not a question, so she doesn’t answer it. Kiyoko sighs, and rocks on her heel. “That’s fair. As long as it’s because you’re actually not into him, and not because you’re not over Iwaizumi.”

Hearing his name spoken so casually makes her flinch. Kiyoko notices and leans her head down on her shoulder. “Well, we’ll get there.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

At her lowest point, she calls her father.

She dials his number so many times she loses track of it. She stares at the numbers for so long they start to lose meaning. When she closes her eyes, she sees them burned into the inside of her eyelids. She hits ‘call,’ and then hangs up, only to dial him right back up again.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing, and definitely not why. She just sort of acts, moved by impulse and a craving for something unknown.

It rings. It rings three times before he answers. His phone is gruff and worn on the other line. “Hello?”

Her hand slaps over her mouth, and she tries to quiet her breathing, like she’s hiding from him. Her eyes prick and burn. “Hello?” he repeats on the other end, more impatient this time. Her heart pounds like he’s just on the other side of the door. She doesn’t know what she’s doing.

“Fucking hell,” is the last thing she hears before the line goes dead. The phone clatters to the floor of her bedroom, and she cries. The first time she’s cried like this in months.

She really doesn’t know what she’s doing.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Most of her time is spent lying in her bed, doing nothing, thinking about everything. Sometimes she goes along with Kiyoko when she goes out with her friends, and she sits in the corner and tries not to draw too much attention to herself. She hates that. Sometimes she tries to pick up extra shifts at work just to pass the time. She hates that too. Sometimes she goes to this cheap dive bar just two blocks away from her new apartment, just to have a drink or two in a place that’s not her bedroom.

She orders a second drink. It’s bone-chilling cold outside, and the alcohol makes her feel warmer. Just a bit. She thinks it’s sad that this is the most exciting part of her week.

At least the festering rot that tore her up from the inside was interesting. Now her life is boring and depressing.

The call of her name is sudden and jarring. She spins around in the barstool with an elevated heartrate and her fingers reaching for her keys. She doesn’t recognize him, at first. When her eyes first land on him, she continues looking for a second, before it catches up to her. Her heart leaps up to her throat. “Matsukawa?”

Matsukawa chugs, his head tilted back and his Adam’s apple bobbing, downing the pint until there’s nothing left but traces of white foam. Her fingers tap against her own glass, looking at the condensation that leaves a ring around the wooden bar. It reminds her of the plastic cups of coffee Iwa brought her daily. She didn’t drink coffee before that. Now every morning she finds herself crawling out of bed at eight in the goddamn morning, throwing on whatever clothes are on her floor so she can get to the closest coffee shop before it gets too busy.

“Is he over me yet?” she asks, tips of her fingers collecting droplets of condensation.

Matsukawa slams his glass down on the bar. “Nah.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “Not even a little. Iwa’ll never get over you.”

Her eyes roll. Matsukawa sees this and narrows his own. “Don’t think I don’t mean it.”

There’s an awkwardness that hangs between them. She takes a sip of her own drink and swishes it over her tongue, trying to distract from it. “He’s got a long time to.”

“Doesn’t matter. I know him. You were it.”

“Then he shouldn’t have left me.”

She says this, she realizes, with familiarity, the kind that no longer exists between her and Matsukawa. She hasn’t seen him since her father’s blood was on her hands. Any closes between them granted by the lifesaving has since evaporated, and now, they’re as good as strangers. At least to her.

Still, Matsukawa leans back in the bar stool. “Yeah, he probably shouldn’t have.”

She shifts in her seat uncomfortably. It would’ve been better if he argued. “Yeah,” is all she can manage, her fire dulled.

“You don’t look like you’re doing that much better than he is,” Matsukawa remarks, and she offers no reaction. It’s not like he’s wrong. “You two are both idiots. You’re perfect for each other.”

Her lip furls up. “You got a lot of fucking opinions on this.”

“Hard not to. Iwa’s heartbreak is everyone’s problem.”

Iwa’s heartbreak. She doesn’t like the implication of it. Like it’s just his. Like it’s nothing something he caused for her. Like it’s not something they share.

“C’mon,” Matsukawa says, hand clapping on her back, like he can see the thoughts brewing in her head, and he wants to cut her off before they can work their way over to him, “let me walk you home.”

He does. He walks her home and he talks about his recovery post-stabbing and he rants about Oikawa and he talks about this girl he’s been talking to that he’s not really that into and he talks about how good Makki’s been looking lately but he doesn’t ask about her and he doesn’t bring up Iwaizumi again.

At least that she’s grateful for.

And when he deposits her at her front door, he grins, and tells her that he’ll see her later.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s snowing. She stands outside of his apartment, box in her hands and something caught in her throat. It’s been a few weeks since she’s seen Matsukawa, and she’s done little but think about him and what he said and fixate on it and let it gnaw away at her.

So she’s outside Iwaizumi’s apartment, snow getting stuck in her hair and fingers going numb.

Her list of problems doesn’t really exist anymore. They’re not as material, harder to pin down. Her anger issues have simmered down into this lethargic mood that has much less daily wear and tear. The split rent and the consistent income have dissipated the money problems. She doesn’t worry about things the way she used to. Things don’t really plague her the way they used to.

It’s really just him. It’s really just Iwaizumi.

She sighs. It was easier in her head. Everything’s always easier in her head.

Now that she’s here, all she can think about is everything that can go wrong. Matsukawa being wrong, and Iwaizumi being over her, so much so that he’s not even moved at the sight of her and there’s already someone else in there warming up her side of the bed. He could be working. He could hate her. It could go as badly as it did last time.

Kiyoko disapproved of the plan. Kiyoko wanted her to move on. She wanted her to find a life outside of Iwaizumi, purpose outside of him, drive outside of him.

But people like Kiyoko don’t get it. People like Kiyoko don’t know what it’s like to be infected with something so consuming and persistent and chronic. Kiyoko doesn’t get it. Iwaizumi gets it.

He gets it.

She inhales slowly, and forces herself to move forward.

Breaking into the front door of her old apartment building is something she’s done more times than she’s proud of. It’s oddly nostalgic to pop that old lock open, and it feels the same as she creeps up the stairs. It was like this when she first moved in. Bitter, winter air floating up the stairs like all the windows were left open. She remembers shaking as she hauled up trash bags of her belongings, and taking breaks to wrap herself up in the first blanket she could unpack.

She feels that way now as she stomps up the stairs, the bottom of her boots heavy against the wood. She wonders if he can hear her coming.

By the time she reaches the top of the stairs, her hands are trembling, and she’s slightly out of breath. She takes a moment to catch it before she’s shifting the box to hold in one hand, and she knocks. She does it before she has the chance to talk herself out of it.

The door swings open sooner than she thought it would, like Iwaizumi was just standing there on the other side, waiting for her. Waiting for her this whole time.

When she sees him, she holds her breath. She holds her breath as she counts the one, two three, four bruises and the one, two, three cuts that decorate his features. He’s paler than he was before. The bags under his eyes are darker.

Still, he looks pretty. She always thinks he looks pretty.

His reaction to her, standing at his doorstep after six months, is the same as his reaction to everything else. His brow slightly furrowed, mouth curled up in something that looks like annoyance. She’s not surprised when he doesn’t say anything.

“Um, hey,” is how she starts out. It makes her flinch. “I’m sorry to just like, pop up out of nowhere but, I just kinda wanted to see you. I, erm, I missed you. A lot.”

Iwaizumi says nothing to this either. She feels oddly like she is shooting herself in the foot, and she loses the ability to look him in the eye.

“I feel really bad about how everything went down,” she confesses, now staring at her shoes. He’s still looking at her, she can feel it. “I’ m not proud of the things I said or how I acted. I don’t-I don’t hate you, not at all.”

She thinks she can see his chest rise and fall with heavy, deliberate breaths. But she’s not sure. Could be imagining it. The corners of her vision are starting to blur. She holds the box up to him.

A CD player. Brand new. The same one he got her.

“I got you this. As a sorry. I felt like shit for breaking the one you got me. I feel like shit for a lot of it, but that gift meant a lot to me. Just like you do. And I break things a lot and I have a lot of issues and I don’t think you-“

She does not get to finish her sentence. Iwaizumi grabs her by the arm and pulls her into her chest. The force knocks the box out of her hands, and CD player slams to the ground between them. Before she can realize what’s happened, her feet are hovering above the floor, and Iwaizumi’s arms are tight around her.

It’s automatic, the way she returns the embrace. Her arms snake around his middle, and she leans her head against his chest. She started crying at one point, without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Iwaizumi says, pressing his face into the top of her head, lips kissing her hair between words. “You have no fucking idea how sorry I am.”

She does, because she feels it. It gnaws away at her chest the same way it does to his. She shakes her head. “I get it,” she tells him. “I know it.”

“Please say,” Iwaizumi pleads. “Please. I would do anything for you to stay.”

If she were someone like Kiyoko, she would say no. She would leave. She wouldn’t have ever come back. Because she knows, she knows that Iwaizumi is not going to change. He’s not going to become someone different overnight, or over six months, or a year or a dozen. Iwaizumi is always going to be who he was the day that she met him.

People like your father only care about one thing. And it’s not you, and it’s not me.

She holds onto him tighter, and thinks that that’s okay. She is too. “I’ll stay,” she promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”

an: ok let’s try this again

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[itoshiexx]

when you're mad and use their full name

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name

pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.

notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)

masterlist

ISAGI YOICHI

yoichi hoped he would die. 

really. 

it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.

he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.

“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.

but he got nothing. zero. nada.

“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”

you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.

“i’ll never do it agai—”

“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 

as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—

oh.

“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”

“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 

he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.

“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”

his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 

“you should have done something anyway.”

“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.

the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.

“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?

damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.

you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.

“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”

he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”

and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.

NAGI SEISHIRO

people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.

that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 

ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 

however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…

“nagi seishiro.” 

a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.

“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 

even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.

“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.

“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”

what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 

he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”

fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 

nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 

“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”

“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 

“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 

“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 

nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”

your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.

“promise, sei?”

“promise.”

ITOSHI SAE

although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 

at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.

you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.

at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.

he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 

nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 

he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 

“why are you mad?”

you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 

“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”

shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.

“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”

you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.

“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”

he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.

“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”

“and?” you crossed your arms.

he sighed. “i will apologize.”

“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”

“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”

you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 

“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 

he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 

“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.

you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.

“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

if you like my writing and would like to support me, you can 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ! any amount is welcomed and very appreciated! ♥

[m00ntunaart]

3rd Star Wars daemon AU post!

Here by popular demand: The Jedi Council and their daemons!

Depa Billaba - Hooked Billed Kite (Taryz)

Mace Windu - Bald Eagle (Maisha)

Yoda - Ostrich (Kieachkta)

Shaak Ti - Hyacinth Macaw (Thevren)

(Commander Colt - Anatolian Shepherd (Pistol))

Plo Koon - Osprey (Averyl)

Ki-Adi Mundi - Great Blue Heron (Czirda)

Kit Fisto - Blue Footed Booby (Krios)

Now onto my random AU lore and thoughts:

JEDI LORE TIME: So, as I’ve said in my last daemon AU post, the Jedi generally have bird daemons. This is by nurture, not nature. The way the Jedi teach young force-users to interact with the Force usually ends up directing their daemons to settle into a bird species of some kind. Which conveniently is around the time a Jedi Initiate is either chosen to be a Jedi Knight or be sent to the Jedi Corps. While it is not a rule that a Jedi Knight has to have a bird daemon, there are stigmas in the Jedi culture that lead to Jedi Knights and Masters not wanting to pick Padawans with not-bird daemons. This was one of the reasons the Council was hesitant to take in Anakin originally. He was already past the age of being nurtured to have his daemon settle as a bird, as he was raised outside the Temple.

(If you’re wondering why Obi-Wan doesn’t have a bird daemon, look at my last post. But to summarize his daemon settled while on Melida/Daan. So not ideal circumstances) (Also Qui-Gon Jinn cares not for cultural taboos, so he did not care much that Obi-Wan’s daemon ended up not being a bird lol)

The exceptions to this bird-daemon rule is generally Jedi in the Corps and Jedi Shadows (I will be making a Quinlan Vos post at some point that goes into that more).

DEPA BILLABA and her daemon, Taryz, who is a Hooked Billed Kite.

Okay for the life of me I cannot remember the reason I picked Depa’s daemon 😅, but it was probably just: ‘I like how Hooked Billed Kites look’. So a good reason obv.

I inserted some silly interactions between Obi-Wan and Depa, and Kee-Ayt and Taryz. I headcanon that since they are the two youngest council members, they will go out of their way to act like children in front of the older council members. Just to make the others role their eyes and say ‘kids 🙄’. Despite the fact that both of them are like in their mid 30s-40s. But besides them acting like two siblings alone in the back seat of a car, they are close with each other. Taryz is the daemon most comfortable being casually around Kee-Ayt, out of the other daemons in the Council. (I imagine that since most Jedi daemons are birds, sometimes other Jedi don’t know how to interact with Kee-Ayt)

MACE WINDU and his daemon, Maisha, who is a Bald Eagle. 

In the Temple there runs a rumor amongst the Padawans about which came first: Mace being bald? Or Mace’s daemon settling as a Bald Eagle? A real ‘chicken or the egg’ question lol.

But more seriously, I really did just end up picking a Bald Eagle daemon because I wanted to make bald jokes hahaha. That and Bald Eagles just naturally look pissed all the time, which matches well with Mace’s ‘resting bitch face’.

YODA and his daemon, Kieachkta, who is an Ostrich.

My whole concept for Yoda was just: ‘if Yoda is a small species, then he should get a big ass daemon to balance it out’. And yes, Yoda rides around on Kieachkta because of course he does. And when he can’t hit your ankles with his stick, he’ll get Kieachkta to peck the back of your head (which hurts ow).

(If you’re wondering, all of Yoda’s species have bigger daemons. Like Yaddle has an Emu daemon).

SHAAK TI and her daemon, Thevren, who is a Hyacinth Macaw.

My only thoughts for Shaak’s daemon was I wanted it to be big and colorful. 1. Because she’s just this tall figure with long montrals. She just needed a big bird species to go with her impressive figure. 2. She just has always had a fun color scheme, so I thought a colorful bird of some kind would be fun. SO A HYACINTH MACAW. They’re huge and a beautiful blue color (that matches her montral stripes). I also just wanted her to have a fun, friendly looking daemon. Since she’s on Kamino most of The Clone Wars, and interacting with Tubies and Cadets. I think her having a big, loving, approachable looking daemon was just right. (Which is why in this AU, she was chosen to be the one working with the younger clones). Hence why I have so many doodles of her daemon with young clones’ daemons. 

Plus I added an extra doodle of Commander Colts’ daemon, Pistol, who is a breed of Livestock Guardian Dog. Since Colt is also on Kamino, he often is ‘herding’, ‘protecting’ and ‘training’ the young clones. So a herding/guardian  dog daemon felt right for him. (Pistol is the bad cop to Thevren’s good cop lol)

PLO KOON and his daemon, Averyl, who is an Osprey.

Tbh I didn’t have any idea what bird I wanted Plo to have. So I ended up googling ‘bird species that are good parents’ lol. And Osprey were on that list! Idk how true that is, but IN STARWARS IT IS NOW TRUE.

 Plo is just The Jedi Dad Of All Time (*cough cough* Ahsoka *cough cough* Wolffe *cough cough* Wolf Pack), so he got a Parent Of All Time bird lol. 

And yes Averyl spends all her free time trying to preen EVERY member of The Wolf Pack. Is that physically possible? I don’t know, but don’t even try to tell Averyl she can’t do it. All her furry dog children WILL feel her affection.

KIT FISTO and his daemon, Krios, who is a Blue Footed Booby.

All I can say is I knew I wanted Kit to have a sea bird, because he’s The Swimming Jedi^TM. And I love Blue Footed Boobies. 

Also Kit is a silly guy who deserves a silly bird, with silly blue feet and a silly name.

KI-ADI MUNDI and his daemon, Czirda, who is a Great Blue Heron.

Ki-Adi is a long, lanky looking dude so he gets a long, lanky bird. 

I have spoken.

(Also I see a lot of Blue Herons around where I live, so they’re a favorite of mine).

[coffeebanana]

some things i've been thinking about (this was supposed to be separate ideas but now i guess it's a rough fic outline in bullet points kasdbfksbjd):

marinette telling adrien the truth YEARS later, after everything's settled down and the butterfly's been recovered and their identities are revealed

maybe they live together. maybe he was getting ready to propose

after his initial shock, anger, time he needs to process, mostly he just wants to understand WHY she lied

when she tells him the she just couldn't bear to hurt him any more than she already had to by telling him his father died, and some part of adrien sees that as his own failing--surely if he'd been stronger, if he'd been the kind of person she thought could handle the truth, then she would have given it

maybe they go to couple's therapy. one of the exercises they're given is to practice honesty with each other and marinette goes... a little overboard

adrien thinks it's sweet, at first. until he realizes she's scared to leave a single second of her day unaccounted for. she's stressing out because she forgot to tell him something minor and he doesn't want him to think she just decided not to tell him something again

he realizes just how much she's been beating herself up about this all these years. just how much she's always loved him despite her mistakes

he remembers the ring he has stashed upstairs

and maybe it's not the time for proposals. but all he can think is that even at their worst, he still wants forever with her

of course, he's never been one for keeping his affections to himself. so he tells her.

it's not a question, it's not an offer. it's a fact: I want to spend the rest of my life with you. i want to marry you. she looks at him like he's crazy, so he pulls out his ultimatum. but i need you to forgive yourself first

all these years, marinette's been secretly awaiting her punishment. secretly awaiting having to pay for what she's done. forgiving herself was never on the table

do you forgive me, she asks in a quiet voice

i don't know, he says, and marinette's heart sinks until he adds, but i know i want to

and in the end, it's not so hard for him to get there. for him to forgive one decision she made under the worst possible circumstances. one mistake in the midst of all the ways she's made him feel safe and wanted and loved. all the times she's held his hand or helped wipe his tears, all the times she's let him do the same for her

when it comes time to exchange vows, for better or worse is already something they've agreed to

[taeghi]

best friends don’t kiss on birthdays

it’s your birthday! and jake’s gift might be more than just a cake.

PAIRING : bff baker!jake x birthday girl!y/n

GENRE : SMUT = MDNI, bffs 2 lovers, food (cake) play, lots of choking, dirty talk, brief spanking, cum play?? lmao. unprotected sex (pls wear a condom)

WC : 6.5k

authors note : it's my birthday!! (happy bday to me) so i wanted to post a bday fic :D ily all, i hope u enjoy!!!! 🎂🎈

you and jake have been friends for as long as you can remember. you wouldn’t call each other each others soulmates, but you both assume it’s something similar. 

since you were ten, jake has made a cake for you every single year for your birthday. every year it was either a different flavour of cake, different icing style or different shapes. but, every year, like clockwork, jake was at your door with a cake in his hand and a cheesy smile on his face. 

you were both in your final year of university (jake had followed you to university even though he despised the city it was in), and this year so far, has been a bit different between you and jake. both of you had split into different friend groups over the years. you were more of an inner, close social circle type, and jake was, well, the complete opposite. he liked going out every weekend, getting wasted until he was falling off his ass. everytime you hung out with him in public, someone would come up to greet him. 

despite the social shift, you and jake were still close as always. jake was still the same jake you had always known. he lives in the moment, makes quick decisions on the spot without thinking of any consequences, he loves to take risks, even if they put you on edge. but that’s how you and jake balanced each other out. like some chaotic yin and yang in perfect human form. 

the past month, jake had been hanging out with chisa. she’s the lead singer of the rock band at your school, the one that performs at every school event and every party. you’ve only briefly met her, like at her birthday party about a month ago that jake had forced you to go to. but, you could tell that she was almost exactly like jake. she radiates this energy, effortless and infectious, always up for anything, her unpredictability drawing in everyone around her.

jake’s never been serious with anyone—just a few hookups, then he moves on. but with chisa? it was different. he was attached to her in a way you’d never seen before, and you hated that it bugged you, even though you told yourself it didn’t. you had started getting used to smelling chisa’s perfume on jake when he comes over to your apartment, having just left hers. you had gotten used to him smiling at his phone when he hung out with you and it was because of something chisa had texted, not a dumb meme sunghoon had sent him. 

what you couldn’t get used to was jake making sure everyone came to chisa’s birthday, only for a month later to completely forget yours. this was the first year, after fourteen years, that jake didn’t remember your birthday. no text, no barging into your apartment at 8 am with that obnoxious grin of his, dragging you to some arcade or random party to celebrate. nothing.

and now, here it was—10 pm, and not a sign of your best friend.

you sigh and throw yourself into bed, desperately wishing this god awful birthday would just end already. if jake dares to text you tomorrow, you’ll scream at him for hours—unless you’re still caught up in this sinking feeling in your stomach. a brief thought crosses your mind: is jake replacing me? 

you scoff and roll over onto your side, how could jake replace you with chisa if you and chisa had completely different relationships with jake. you told yourself that you’ve just always been the only girl jake hangs out with, that now that there’s another one that he consistently hangs out with it’s fucking with you. because jake is your best friend, or at least you thought he was. do best friends forget each other's birthdays? their traditions? 

you pretend it doesn’t matter, trying to get your mind to shut off so you can sleep. you tell yourself that it’s just another birthday, same as all the others you've lived through and all the ones you’ll live through in the future. but it’s not.jake should’ve been here, whether you wanted to strangle him or not, you just wanted him here.

a single tear falls down your cheek, landing on your pillow that soaks it up.  

more tears are willing to escape, but a knock on the door stops them. 

the clock says 10:32pm on your nightstand, you wonder who the hell is here this late. but in your chest you hope it’s jake. you can’t help but speed walk to the front door. you don’t look through the peephole before you swing it open. 

and sure enough, there’s jake, a cake in his hand with a guilty look on his face, instead of the usual annoying smirk. 

“happy birthday?” jake says unsurely, his face contorted in unease. 

you scoff, “wow, you remembered.” 

jake gasps, “i didn’t miss your birthday, yn!” he pulls out his phone to look at the time, “there’s still an hour and a half of it left!” you don’t answer, just stare at him expressionless, trying to mask your hurt. jake shoves the cake out in front of you, “well are you gonna let me in so we can share this cake? i made it red velvet flavoured this year!” 

you glance down at the cake, it looks perfect. it’s deep red layers covered with cream cheese, white frosting. silver frosting was on the top in jake’s cursive hand writing happy birthday y/n! it looked annoyingly good. 

you sigh and step to the side, letting jake into your apartment so late at night on your birthday. 

“see, you can never say no to my baking!” jake chuckles out, he beelines straight for your kitchen like he never stopped practically living here up until a month ago. he finds two spoons in your cluttered drawers quickly. 

“yeah, well, at least your teachers didn’t waste their money teaching you,” you lean on the other side of the island from him, face to face. 

jake tsks, “okay well, it wasn’t a waste of money then for me to have followed you out here.” jake sticks out a spoon for you to take, “now taste it and tell me how good your best friend in the entire world can bake!” 

you dig your spoon into the cake, it glides so smoothly through it, just like everything else jake bakes. when the red velvet meets your mouth, you can’t help but moan around it. damn jake and his culinary arts degree. 

across the island from you, jake’s mouth is turned into a shit-eating grin, knowing that all your anger towards him has melted away just like the cake has melted in your mouth. 

“good?” jake asks with a tilt of his head, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“shut up.” 

he laughs—loud, familiar. the sound of it makes your stomach flip in a way you wish it wouldn’t. for a second, it’s like nothing happened. like he didn’t almost forget your birthday.

“sorry there’s no candles this year,” jake mumbles out, placing a bite of cake into his own mouth. 

you shrug, going for a second bite, “it’s okay.” 

“if there was one, what would you wish for?” 

your spoon hovers mid-air. you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way jake is watching you, the way he’s close but not too close, his knee knocking against the cabinet when he shifts. you think for a second, strangely struggling to make eye contact with your best friend. your best friend that you had just cried about 10 minutes before this. 

“hm?” jake pushes you, impatient as always.

“i can’t tell you, or else it won’t come true.” you smirk at him, trying to ignore whatever this weird tension is between you. 

jake scoffs, “you have literally told me every birthday wish you have ever wished for since we were ten, why can’t you tell me now?” 

you shrug, “secret.” placing another piece of cake in your mouth. you notice jake still in front of you, his body rigid. his hands pressing flat against the counter like he’s holding himself back. “what?” 

jake gently puts his spoon down on the marble island, you can feel his sudden unease from across said island.he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps around the island, closing the space between you in two slow strides., “you uh, have icing on your face.”

 before you can reach to wipe it off, jake beats you to it. his large, warm hand meets your cheek, his thumb brushes once against your skin, gathering the icing on his digit. without a second thought (usual jake nature) he slides his thumb into your ajar mouth. your lips circle around his thumb, sucking the frosting of his mouth. jake bites his lower lip in between his teeth as he watches you, feels your tongue circle this thumb before you pull your mouth off it. 

“jake,” your voice whispers to him— he’s so close to you. your apartment suddenly feels one thousand times smaller than it usually does. 

“did your birthday wish include me, y/n?” jake asks, almost desperate, “tell me it did.” you only slightly nod in response, unsure of where this was going, aching for more. in a second, jake’s hand is cupping your jaw. “what was it, y/n? tell me.” 

your voice is quiet when you reveal your wish, “i wished for you to kiss me.” 

before you could process what you had just said to your best friend, he’s leaning over, his lips meeting yours. they’re gentle at first, testing to see if you’re okay. when you don’t push him away or reject the kiss gets hungrier. your lips mesh together in a hurried, desperate mess. like both of you needed this now or else you’d never get it again. 

jake’s hands grip your waist, pulling you into him. it’s the warmth of his body on yours (the one that you’ve always craved) that makes you gasp, pushing him away. 

“what? want to stop?” jake concerns, his eyes flashing over your body quickly, making sure you’re okay. 

“just— what about chisa?” her name sounds foreign coming from your mouth now.  jake chuckles quickly, and then laughs loudly like he suddenly can’t control it. “jake? what?” 

“it’s just,” jake laughs, his on your island to keep him up, “what about chisa? she’s not my girlfriend or anything. don’t you know me, y/n?” 

you pucker your lips, not impressed by his response, it makes you feel dumb. “shut up, jake.” 

when jake sees that you’re being serious, his laugh fades into only a smile, his hands grip your waist again, “chisa is nothing to me, y/n. just a friend.” 

“if she’s just a friend then what am i?” 

his grip falters slightly. you both know jake sucks at talking about his feelings—he’ll show them, sure, but words? not his thing. too bad that’s exactly what you need right now. both of you are unsure if he can give you that. it’s a perfect example of how different you two are from each other. 

“you’re my best friend and i love you.” he speaks, your face is unimpressed and you try to step back from him, but he holds you close, his words rush like you’re gonna disappear, “but i love you more than just as a best friend.” 

you stay in your place, wanting jake to continue, his hands relax on your body again. “then why were you so late to my birthday, jake? i thought you had forgotten about it… about me.” 

“i could never forget about you,” jake leans down to look directly into your eyes as he speaks, wanting you to know that he’s genuine. he swallows harshly before he continues, wanting to do this right, knowing that he’s not good at this type of shit. "i was just—going over everything in my head. all day. i didn’t know if i should go all out or keep it casual. if you’d pick up on my feelings or not. if i’d ruin everything." his hands tremble slightly on your waist. "i didn’t want to lose you."

your heart pounds so loud you’re sure he can hear it. suddenly, all the frustration from earlier doesn’t matter anymore.

you don’t answer—not with words, at least. instead, you pull him back in, pressing your lips to his. jake stiffens for half a second before melting into you, hands slipping around your back, holding you close like he never wants to let go ever again.

jake walks you so your back is against the kitchen island. he pulls away from you and you can see that his eyes are full with lust. you figure yours must look the same. jake swoops down and presses a deep kiss into your neck, inhaling your perfume. he can faintly smell the icing from the cake on you. over your shoulder, jake looks at the bitten-into cake. 

jake’s hands pull off your night shirt, the one you always wear no matter how stretched and oil-stained it’s gotten throughout the years. you gasp at the cold air against your skin, your chest on full display for jake so suddenly. his eyes look like they’re about to devour you. he licks his lips as he look at  your hardened nipples. 

without a second thought, jake swirls some icing from the cake behind you and swipes it onto your breast. 

“jake—!” you gasp out. before you could finish your sentence, jake’s lips are circled around your pink nipples covered in icing, sucking on it and gently pulling it. he moans against your skin. your jaw drops open at the feeling of it. his fingers tweak your other nipples, causing your back to fully arch into him already. 

jake swirls his finger into the cake again, this time slowly, gently, tracing it against your collarbone. 

“what are you doing, jake?” your voice is already breathless as you let your best friend touch you. 

“i wanna see if you, or the icing is sweeter.” he casually shrugs, leaning down and placing his tongue flat against your collarbone, licking up the icing trail in one slow lick. the feeling of his warm, wet tongue on your collarbone has you spiraling too fast for your liking. 

jake’s hands rest on your tits, massaging them and tweaking your nipples as he licks and kisses your collarbone and neck. you can feel your core getting soaked. you can’t believe you and jake are doing this. 

jake dips his finger into the icing again, this time putting his finger right in the valley of your breasts before he slowly drags it down your stomach, stopping at the top of your belly button. 

jake is on his knees in an instant, licking up your stomach the trail of icing. he pops one of your nipples into his mouth again, sucking and pulling on it just enough to get you whining above him. 

jake’s hands push down your night shorts and panties in one go, letting them pool at your feet for you to step out of. it leaves you completely bare in front of fully dressed jake. your body is on full display for him, letting him do whatever he wants to you. 

both of jake’s hands cusp your jaw, his forehead leaning on yours as he looks into your eyes, “you’re so fucking beautiful, y/n.” since he’s holding your jaw you can’t look away from him, you feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. sure, jake has called you beautiful or pretty before, but he’s never done it when you’re completely naked and exposed. “will you let me taste you, baby?” 

you nod in response, making jake smash his lips against yours again, this time softer and gentle, like he’s telling you to trust him. you could taste the icing on his lips. 

jake swipes his index and middle  fingers into the icing again. this time he pushes them in between your lips, getting you to suck on them. “that’s right, baby, get my fingers soaked so they can slide right in you.” his words make you whimper around his fingers, swallowing the sweet icing. your tongue sucks on his fingers, wanting to do as he says. jake’s eyes are glazed over as he watches you, feeling your mouth sucking against his digits. 

with a pop, he pulls them out, now shining with your saliva. he doesn’t hesitate to spread your legs, teasing your already soaked hole with his saliva-covered fingers. he pushes them in slowly, but easy from all the lubricant. both of you moan as his fingers reach as far as they can inside of you. your pussy is so warm around his fingers, he can feel your walls already clenching around them and he hasn’t even moved them yet. 

jake kneels on the ground again, his fingers starting to push out and then back in again. he’s stretching you, preparing you for his cock later on. his fingers adventure and experiment with touching all over your walls. he’s determined to find the spot that makes you cry out. he’s determined to make this the best birthday you’ve ever had. 

your hands grip the kitchen island behind you, trying to stable yourself as jake starts to finger fuck you. his fingers are curling at just the right spots. your bottom lip is glued between your teeth as you watch your best friend stare so intently at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. your folds continue to suck his fingers in everytime he tries to pull them out. your juices and saliva are mixing around his slender fingers, dripping down the sides of them already. 

you throw your head back over your shoulder, the pleasure making your muscles contract and relax over and over again as jake builds your orgasm. you see the red velvet cake that he had made you, keeping your fourteen year tradition alive. you don’t stop yourself from reaching over and swiping the icing off the cake and onto your fingers. jake watches you as you bring your fingers to your folds, smearing the icing around the skin between your legs, right where you want jake’s mouth to be. 

“you want my tongue, baby?” jake smirks up at you from between your legs, his fingers still fucking into you. 

“please, i wanna cum so bad.” 

jake mumbles something about how hot you are before he delves into your folds with his mouth. his eyes closing as he starts to make out with your pussy. he keeps his fingers pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. his tongue starts to circle and tease your clit as his lips suck the skin around it. 

“oh god,” you cry out, your eyebrows bunching together as jake brings you closer to the edge. 

jake’s saliva mixes with your juices as he licks up the icing between your legs. he runs his tongue up and down your slit. your body starts to convulse at the feeling of being so close to the edge. he switches back to giving your clit pressured  sucks, flicking his tongue back and forth your clit quickly. 

your eyes stay focused on jake working your core. his eyes meet yours and a grin spreads across his face as his tongue still circles your clit, adding pressure to it. it makes you cry out, gripping the kitchen island behind you even tighter. your knees start buckling on either side of jake’s head as he kneels on your kitchen floor. 

“fuck, i’m gonna cum, jake!” you warn him, your chest starting to move sporadically as you reach the very edge of your climax. 

“do it, cum all over my face right now— cum all over your best friend's face.” jake grunts out, mumbling against your pussy as he speeds up how fast his tongue circles, how fast his fingers fuck into you. 

your high hits you so satisfyingly. all of your pent up emotions towards jake finally release as you cum onto his mouth and fingers. your body feels like it’s laced with ecstasy as your body shakes with tremors. jake’s free hand helps you stay steady against his mouth as he sucks on your pussy until you’re pushing him away because of the overstimulation. he only laughs at your whining as he pulls his fingers out of you. 

jake stands up, his lips swollen and wet from eating you out. “you really are sweeter than the icing,” jake smiles at your post-nut expression, his mouth still full of your taste. “here— try for yourself.” you let jake slip his finger sinto your mouth for the third time of the night. this time however, it’s not cream cheese icing that has you moaning around his digits, it's your own juices. 

and jake is right, it is sweeter than the icing. 

jake’s fingers slip from your lips. you wrap your arms around jake’s neck, pulling him closer to you again. his hands find their spot on your waist. you both find this position so easily, as if it wasn’t the first time in the past 14 years that you’ve done this. it feels natural, it feels right. 

jake and you are kissing again. it’s slow but passionate and needy. both of you know that the night isn’t over. especially when you feel his hard cock rub on your abdomen through his jeans. you pull away form him, looking down at where your waists are. his bulge is huge in his pants, it makes your mouth and pussy water some more. 

“let’s go to your bedroom,” jake says, his voice husky. 

“please,” 

jake’s quick to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you through your apartment and to your bedroom. you’re both laughing as he does so. you press soft kisses into his scalp as he carries you. 

jake places you down onto your bed. this isn’t the first time jake and you have been in a bed together. though, it is the first time you’ve been in this position. your legs wrapped around his waist as he hovers over you, your pussy and his lips both swollen. 

you continue to make out until either of you can take it anymore. your lips wet and plump from sucking and pulling on each others. you’re both moaning into each other's mouths. jake slowly grinded his jean covered bulge into your bare pussy, teasing the both of you. the moment feels intimate, like the both of you needed this so desperately. 

jake pulls away from you, stopping the heavy makeout sesh. his chest is panting against yours as he lays on top of you. 

“you sure you wanna do this?” 

“yes, please, jake— i need this so bad— please, it’s my birthday,” 

jake laughs, “okay okay, anything for the birthday girl.” 

jake pushes himself off the bed, standing up to take off his clothes. he discards them lazily on your bedroom floor. his lean muscles flex as he crawls back onto the bed, resuming his position of being between your legs. 

jake grabs the flesh of your thighs, holding your legs open and wide for him to be able to press his cock against your pussy. 

“spit on it,” he demands of you. 

you lean over your body, spitting down onto where his cock rests on top of your pussy. both of you can feel your clit throbbing against his cock, wanting and needing more already. 

“good girl.” 

jake grabs his dick, lining it up with your pussy before he pushes all the way in with one singular thrust. both of you let out pornographic moans, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and the feeling of finally being stretched out by your best friend's cock. 

jake curses under his breath, his hair falling into his face as the feeling of you being so tight around him affects him, too. it already feels so wet and warm— jake can feel himself becoming addicted to this feeling. something that he knew would happen if he ever got you in a position like this. which is why he had tried so hard to ignore his feelings for you in the past, not wanting to ruin the friendship. 

but that’s all gone out the window now that he knows what you taste like. 

“move, please, move.” you beg of him, and who is he to deny the birthday girl?

jake leans over top of you, placing both of his hands on the mattress beside your body. your knees are bent around his waist as he starts to move his cock in and out of you, slowly at first, wanting to warm you up to the stretch of his large cock. his lips meet your own again, like they can’t be off each other long without feeling withdrawal symptoms. 

jake has to force himself to stop kissing you and he pushes himself back up, crouching himself over your body with his cock still lodged deep inside of your pussy. his feet are on the outer side of both of your hips, your knees bent and your thighs pressed against your chest in a mating press. 

jake starts to pound his cock into you at a slow but hard pace. the tip of his cock hitting your cervix every time he pushes back into you. 

“oh fuck!” you exclaim. you had imagined that sex with jake would feel good, but not this good. 

jake chuckles breathlessly as his one hand crawls to your neck, wrapping itself around it, adding pressure ever so slightly. jake’s breathless gasps and grunts mix with your whines as he fucks into you, setting a starting pace. everytime he slams himself into you, your bedframe hits the wall behind you. thankfully your bed is pushed up against the window that faces the street and not your next door neighbours. 

jake falls back onto his knees from his feet, keeping your legs placed on his broad shoulders as he continues to fuck into you at a steady pace. he aims for the spot he found earlier that he knows drives you to the edge. you keep your hands on your thighs, your eyes not leaving his face as he fucks you. 

jake’s gold chain hits his chest everytime he pulls out of you, just to drill back into you. 

“fuck i love your cock, it feels so good.” you confess, knowing already that no one would ever be able to make you feel as good as jake does. his cock seems to perfectly fit inside of you. every vein brushes against your pussy walls in the perfect way. his tip hits your g spot every single time. his hand pulses pressure around your neck, blocking complete oxygen from reaching your brain and lungs. 

jake drops your legs from his shoulders, wrapping them around his waist as he leans to hover on top of you, placing his elbows on either side of you. his cock doesn’t stop fucking into you. 

“fuck,” jake groans out, “your pussy keep sucking me back in, baby. doesn’t want my cock to leave.” 

“mhm,” you nod back to him, looking into your eyes as pleasure builds inside both of you. 

“would you like that, y/n?” jake teases you, “would you like having my cock inside of you all day?” 

his words make your walls pulse around his cock, something both of you feel, “oh god, yes. i want it in me all the time, forever.” 

jake dryly chuckles, leaning down to press a deep kiss onto your lips. you can feel his balls hitting your ass every time his hips meet your own. his pelvic bone rubs against your clit as he hovers over top of you. 

when the kiss stops, jake presses his hand over your mouth, cutting off your oxygen again, letting you moan and breathe heavily against his warm palm. jake keeps his body pressed on top of you, only his hips move as he fucks his cock in and out of you. 

at this point, both of you have sweat dripping off your bodies, your skin looks flushed. 

jake is intermittently switching between sloppily making out with you, to covering your mouth or wrapping his hand around your neck. 

“you like when i choke you, baby? like how i control when you breathe?” jake grunts out to you. 

even though you and jake had never done anything sexual up to this point, you both knew each other’s kinks and turn ons. that’s something best friends just talk about, right? 

like you know how much he loves to see girls choke on his dick. how much he loves seeing a girls ass turn red from him spanking her over and over again. just like he knows that you love being choked, love being degraded and teased as a man pounds into you. 

“i fucking love it,” you gasp out, loving how out of breath you were. 

jake smirks at your answer before he sits up on his knees again, your legs still wrapped around his waist. both of his hands land on your neck, adding enough pressure for you to lose some oxygen. jake starts using his grip on your neck to pound into your harder from a different angle. his cock hitting directly inside of you now, your cores hitting each other perfectly. 

your entire body is being pushed up and down off your mattress as jake using your body to be able to fuck into you harder and harder. 

“fuck,” jake grunts out, his teeth greeted as his pace picks up speed. your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, unable to do anything besides letting jake fuck you. your body numb to anything but the pleasure his cock was giving you. “you take my cock like such a good girl, such a nasty, good girl.” 

jake pulls his hands off your neck, and without warning, he roughly flips you over so you’re on your stomach, your plump ass up in the air for him. jake drags your hips towards him, sliding his cock back into you before he pushes your face down into the mattress. your sheets muffle your moans as he starts to fuck into you. 

jake has one hand on the back of your head, keeping it in your bed, and the other hand grips your waist. he keeps your body still, with just his hips moving as he balances himself on his knees. at this point, it feels like jake knows every square inch of your body. he knows every spot that makes you scream out his name. it’s almost ridiculous. 

“that feel good, baby?” jake asks from behind you, his hips not stopping. 

“god, fuck,” you answer, muffled by the mattress. “harder, please fuck me harder.” 

jake does as you say, letting go of the back of your head to grip your waist with both of his hands. his hips start to pound against your ass. your bedroom full of the sound of skin slapping against each other. and since you know your best friend so well, you aren’t shocked when he starts slapping your ass. a cry escapes your mouth everytime his hand meets your ass. 

“you want it hard, y/n?” jake chuckles out from behind you, “i don’t know if you can take it, baby. you already seem so close to cumming.” 

“no, no!” you try to shake your head no, “i can take it, please, please, harder.” your voice doesn’t even sound like yourself. it’s full of need and desperation. and luckily, since it’s your birthday, jake is willing to provide you with everything you want. 

his cock is still filling you up as far as it can go inside of you. it stretches you in a way you didn’t know you could be stretched. you feel so fucking full that it’s intoxicating. you think your pussy is going to be stretched out in the shape of jake’s cock. and then jake will be the only one to fuck you. 

jake’s hands reach under your core, lifting you up so your back is against his chest. his cock doesn’t stop working in and out of you, his pace never letting up. you didn’t know his stamina was this good. but who are you to complain?

jake keeps your body upwards with one hand wrapped around your waist, the other has snaked its way to your clit. all three of his fingers lay flat on your clit as he rubs them in a circle, adding intense pressure on the sensitive bundle of nerves as his cock seems to start perfectly hitting your g spot. 

your hands wrap onto his thighs that are on either side of your body. 

“holy shit!” you shout, “i’m going to fucking cum if you keep doing that.” 

if it wasn’t for jake’s hands keeping you upwards, you’d be bent over limp. the pleasure was building and building and building inside of you. your muscles working overtime by contracting and relaxing repeatedly. your tits were still covered in a mix of icing and jake’s saliva. your hairline was sweaty, you could barely keep your eyes open at this point. 

“yeah? you gonna fucking cum on my cock, princess?” jake grunts in your ear from behind you. “do it. fucking do it. i wanna feel your pussy clench around my cock so bad.” 

you whimper out at his words, they only make you tighten more around his cock. your juices dripping out of your pussy and all over his cock— all over your sheets. a wet stain was starting to form on your sheets directly below you.  

“fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum on your cock.” you helplessly nod, focusing on the pleasure building in your abdomen. “just like that, like that!” 

you can’t help the scream that escapes your lips next as you come undone on jake’s cock. he’s quick to cover your mouth with his hand— silencing your loud scream so the neighbours don’t call the police. your head falls back onto his shoulder, unable to do anything but let jake fuck you through your orgasm. 

“that’s it,” jake grunts out, the feeling of your walls sporadically squeezing his cock over and over again, makes his brain fog over. “that’s a good girl, fucking wet my cock with your cum.” 

when your body finally stops shaking, jake helps you lay back onto your back, your head on your pillow. your eyes are glazed over, your body feels like it’s on high alert and just so, so sensitive. 

still, jake’s dick is rock hard, oozing pre cum, soaked in your juices. 

“i’m so close, baby.” jake’s voice is needy but gentle, “please let me fuck your pussy until i cum, please. i need it around me cock so bad.” 

you nod lazily at him, “please, please.” your hand reaches out to grab his thigh, wanting his cock back inside of you already, “need your cock in me. need to fill your cum fill me up.” 

jake can’t help but moan at your words, it makes his cock twitch at the fact that he’ll get to cum in your pussy. fill you up with his hot, warm sperm. his heart picks up pace when he visualizes what your pussy would look like as it dribbles out his cum back out and onto your sheets. 

“yeah? you wanna be my cum slut?” jake’s voice is teasing as he leans back over you, his cock already lining up with your weeping, swollen hole. “you wanna be filled with your best friend’s cum on your birthday?” 

“yes, fuck, i want that so bad, jake, please!” 

jake’s hand cups your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he laughs at your desperation. “relax, baby— you’ll get what you want.” 

jake pushes his cock back inside of you with one thrust, making both of you sigh out in satisfaction. he had only been out of your pussy for one minute but both of you were aching for him to be inside of you again already. 

jake could feel that his own orgasm wouldn’t be much longer. his cock was feeling so sensitive. everytime your soaking walls clenched somehow even tighter around him than before he could feel the pit in his stomach grow and grow. your whiny moans of his name, telling him to not stop edged him closer and closer to his orgasm. 

his hands gripped your waist roughly, focusing on trying to cum just for you. 

“oh god, jake— your cock fills me so good, i wanna feel your cum fill me, too, please.” you beg him, your sensitive walls milking his cock further and further. begging him to paint the inside of your pussy white with his cum. 

jake grunts out, his voice becoming deeper with every second, “yeah? tell me you want my cum, y/n. tell me you deserve my cum.” 

“i want your cum inside of me so bad, jake. please give it to me. i deserve to be filled with your cum, don’t i?” you beg him, your eyebrows furrowed together as you look up at him. his eyes switching between your face and your pussy. “aren’t i your good girl, jake?” 

jake lets out a deep grunt at your words, “fuck yeah, you’re my good girl. such a good girl.” jake’s cock is fucking in and out of you so quickly, you don’t even feel it leaving your pussy. “you’re my good girl so you’re gonna take my cum, right?” 

“yes! please, please! i can take it!” 

“fuck, fuck!” jake yells out, his grip on your waist surely leaving bruises now. “i’m fucking cumming.” 

when jake finally cums, it’s messy. 

his cum spurts out inside of you in thick, hot strands. both of you groaning at the feeling of him finally filling you up. jake doesn’t stop thrusting into you until his orgasm dissipates.  his brain becoming a little less foggy as he feels his cock plunged deep inside of your pussy with his sperm. 

jake gently pulls out of you and you sit up on your elbows, legs still spread wide open to watch jake’s cum start to drip out of your red, swollen hole. when it finally does, both of you moan. it’s warm as it drips down your folds, mixing with so many other substances you can’t count. 

jake is quick to reach down and gather some of his cum on his finger. your mouth is already open for it before he even asks you to. he slips his finger into your mouth. you moan at the taste, swallowing it with no hesitation. he pops his finger out of your mouth again. 

“tastes sweeter than the icing.” you tiredly smile up at him, teasing him. 

jake doesn’t laugh though, he only swoops down and presses his plump lips onto yours. the kiss is sweet and gentle, almost innocent if it didn’t just follow the multiple sinful acts you had just committed. 

the second you pull away from each other, reality takes over. your heart is still hammering from the orgasms, your lips are swollen and tingling from kissing jake so much.  your birthday is ending very differently from how it started. you’re now not only best friends with jake, but something more as well. 

jake’s still close to you, smiling at you that makes your stomach have annoying butterflies. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. his smile is contagious and suddenly you're mimicking his expression. 

“best birthday ever,” 

“yeah?” jake’s smile is boyish and smug. 

“yeah,” you shrug, “definitely better than last year’s gift.” 

“hey! socks are practical! why wouldn't you want socks?” 

“shut up, jake.” 

jake huffs out a laugh before shoving you back onto the bed, he lays down beside you. your bodies still warm and sweaty against each other’s. 

“i can’t wait until my birthday.” jake says, elbowing you suggestively. 

“bold of you to assume i’ll still be into you by then.” 

jake is unaffected, only scoffing as he sits up on his elbows to look down at you, “you’re literally obsessed with me, i have no worries.” 

“okay? and you’re obsessed with me.” 

“yeah,” jake shrugs, “but at least i can admit it.” 

jake laughs when you kick him, laying back down beside you, head right next to yours on your pillow. your bedroom goes quiet. both of you take turns looking at each other when the other isn’t. both of you are still trying to process what just happened in the past hour. 

but, you don’t need to ponder for long. you and jake are still best friends. you’re still complete opposites. still yin and yang. still a complete mess. so, in your usual chaotic way, you’ll figure out your relationship together. 

“wanna shower and then eat the rest of the cake?” jake murmurs to you. 

“hell yeah.” 

best. birthday. ever. 

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

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