#have a shitty open starter

[vigilant-yaksha-asks]

Open starter: Nightmares

oh, mod here, trigger warning for self harm and nightmares/panic attack/general anxiety!! the starter will be below the cut

Xiao jolted awake, eyes darting around from where he lay in the branches of the tree that grew around Wangshu Inn.

"You're safe...you're fine..." Xiao ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm down.

He stood at the top level of the Inn, folding his arms on top of the railing and resting his head on them. Xiao bit them into his forearms. His sharp teeth dug into his arms. He tried and failed to breathe deeply.

"...why did I have to be the one to survive?"

Tears sprung at the corners of his eyes despite his protests.

"Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry..."

[someotherdog]

character: sonny open: m/f/nb plot: sonny is a surly bartender in a small, dusty town in the arizona desert. like any other night, he's working at the bar when your muse comes in. your muse can be any connection (strangers, friends, enemies, etc) as long as it's nothing t*boo or familial.

it was too early in the evening for sonny to be so apathetic with his customers, but the regulars had become used to his terrible customer service. perhaps it was the twang of loretta lynn’s tinny voice from the jukebox in the corner or the worn-in seats up against the bar and the tables already filled up with its usual suspects, but the dour attitude of sonny only increased tenfold over the past few hours since he woke up for work. dropping the dishrag loudly against the bar, he looked to the customer that just sat down, “what’ll it be?” he regarded them suspiciously and spoke before they could answer, “and i’m not getting out the blender, so pick something on tap.”

[exquisitexagony]

@gollldrush sent “you okay?” to find my muse sitting alone on a roof at night

Sami glanced up from where he was sitting, startling slightly at Leo's sudden approach since he hadn't heard her coming initially. A soft smile, trying to hide the fact that she'd spooked him. He didn't want her to feel bad. He was just feeling a little jumpy, a little sensitive.

"Huh? Uh...Oh, yeah..." he hummed quietly before turning away again to look up at the stars. He chews idly at his lip, wishing he had a joint right about now--or, even better, a drop or two of acid. Anything to clear his head.

"I think so." Another gentle smile flashed in her direction. "You?"

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking

♡ gn reader

There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.

You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.

It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.

Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.

You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 

So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 

For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.

You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.

It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 

Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.

You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.

It’s like he isn't a student at all…

And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.

It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.

Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.

It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 

You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.

He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 

As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.

But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.

It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.

It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 

But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.

He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 

He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.

“Ugh...” You sigh.

It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.

When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.

“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 

Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.

You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 

“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 

You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”

You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.

“Why are you so difficult?”

You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 

With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.

Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.

Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.

He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…

Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…

But it’s clear now….

You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.

“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.

You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.

He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.

Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.

The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 

He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.

The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.

But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.

“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”

He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.

“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”

You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.

His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 

You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 

“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”

You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.

“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”

There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.

“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”

Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.

“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”

He groans, and you sob.

“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”

♡ BNHA – Denki, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo, Yuuta ♡ HQ – Miya twins ♡ CSM – Yoshida ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

Full fic with smut available here:

[normaltothemax]

“I’m fine.” He’s laying face down on the couch, voice muffled by the cushions. He is, quite clearly, not fine. “Really. I’m fine, everything’s fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

[wttcsms]

as it was ; suguru geto.

pairing suguru geto x f!reader  word count 4.2k  synopsis suguru comes back, only to find that you've been waiting and wanting this whole entire time. content contains modern no curses!au, gojo's sister!reader, brother's best friend, creampie, pet names (good girl, baby), most of the fic is geto's introspection, possessive sex, mutual pining/longing author’s notes im not even horny for geto like that, but i wanted to write angsty smut abt spreading ur legs for a guy that left u & who else is better for this than geto <3

First words are always a bit tricky to get right, especially whenever he has to take into account that he essentially ghosted you a couple of years ago, after taking your virginity no less, and now he’s back in the godforsaken city he swore he was never coming back to, and he’s just at a loss about what to say and more importantly, how to say it. 

He supposes an apology, for starters, would be a good first move. And maybe it would be, could be, should be, if only he wasn’t him and you weren’t you, and the two of you were not something so confusing and intricate that it’s hard to put into words and harder still to describe with emotions. The two of you are something raw and painful, both of you taking turns playing both sadist and masochist. 

Even to himself, the extent of your relationship sounds twisted, but there was always an underlying purity to it, something that justified its existence. To this day, Suguru Geto is certain that you’re the only person who ever loved him for him, with a love so pure and just that he tries to hide it from everyone else before they can get their filthy hands on it and taint it, twist it into something it’s not. 

Sorry I left won’t cut it, and Geto doesn’t even bother trying to come up with any other variations of apology because it’s not necessarily your forgiveness that he’s come back for. The opportunity to say “I’m sorry” and have it actually mean something has long since passed. All that’s left to say is the truth for why he left, which for some odd reason, seems even harder to do than his original disappearing act.

I missed you — that’s a slight improvement. It’s the truth, if not an understatement of it. He doesn’t regret leaving Tokyo, he just regrets leaving you. Which he could say, if you would actually open the door to face him. 

He figures it’s what he deserves. He deserves worse, if he’s going to be entirely honest. He deserves a slap to the face, or a kick to his balls, or for you to tell him that you hate him, that you never want to see him ever again. 

He knocks on your apartment door, harder this time, as if it’s something urgent. And maybe it is. He’s felt more like himself than he ever has after moving, but the solitude of the countryside got boring soon after, leaving him only with the ghosts from his past to keep him company. He thinks if he doesn’t see you, in the flesh, he might actually go insane. 

He knocks again, only to be met with more silence and a door that’s starting to become more of a familiar sight than he would like. Fuck, what is he even doing? Showing up here was a bad idea to begin with, and it’s only seemingly getting worse by every agonizing second that ticks by. Even if you do open the door, there’s always the chance that you won’t let him get a single word in — that’d be the smart choice, anyway. 

And you’re a bright girl, don’t get him wrong. Something about the Gojo bloodline makes your family incapable of producing anything less than prodigal sons and daughters. If you’re not proof of this fact, there’s your older brother.

Yet another reason why showing up here is such a shitty plan. Satoru will catch wind of his visit, and when he does, he’ll show no restraint in showing Suguru what all of his private boxing lessons are good for. A broken nose and missing tooth would be a fair exchange to see you for at least a second, though. A tradeoff that he doesn’t need to debate on. 

You have to leave your apartment eventually. Suguru dances with the idea of just making camp outside your door and waiting for your stubbornness to fizzle out. It’ll be embarrassing, and your neighbors will surely have something to say about it, but it would be well worth it.

He hears the ding! of the elevator opening and human reflex causes his head to turn at the sound of the noise. 

Oh.

The world becomes contradictory at this very moment. The air suddenly stills, but the atmosphere itself seems to come alive at the same time. Stagnant air, bursting with electricity and something awe-inspiring. Everything seems to slow down, but suddenly he’s acutely aware of just how alarmingly fast his heart is beating. It’s been a while since he’s last seen you, not even bothering to check up on your social media because he knows one DM from you would have him crossing the ocean to be back by your side. 

The reason why you weren’t answering your door was simply because you weren’t even home. Relief floods his body, makes him less tense, only for him to stiffen up once more whenever his eyes trail over to the warm body awfully close to you. 

Or maybe it’s the other way around, since you’re the one clinging onto him.

You and Kento Nanami both look like you two have seen a ghost, and all things considered, you wouldn’t be wrong. 

“What are you doing here?” You’re the first to speak, with Nanami’s arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and it’s this closeness that’s the only thing Suguru finds himself able to focus on. It’s been years. He shouldn’t feel this way. You’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want. It’s your life. He’s the one that chose to walk out of it, anyway. 

“I just wanted to talk,” he answers. Which isn’t a lie. He wanted to talk. He wanted to fight and make up and fuck your brains out and beg for forgiveness and cook you breakfast in the morning and warm your bed, amongst other things, too. But, he figures the condensed version of his list will do, especially considering that three’s a crowd, and most of his itinerary was for your ears only. “Did I come at a bad time?” 

You bite your bottom lip, slowly removing yourself from Nanami’s grip. Nanami looks at you first, concern evident in his warm eyes, eyes that you wish were just a bit darker and colder, so that they would be the ones you’re so accustomed to drowning in. 

You like Nanami well enough. He’s kind and looks out for you, and sometimes you even consider making a move on him first since he’s too much of a gentleman to cross any boundaries. Then again, you don’t think Nanami sees you as anything more than a little sister, and the last time you fucked one of your brother’s best friends… 

It’s why you just give Nanami a smile, one that tells him that you’ve got this under control. His facial expression doesn’t give any indication of what he’s thinking, but the glare he sends Suguru’s way says enough. 

Suguru can appreciate the fierce protectiveness Nanami has towards you, but it doesn’t mean he likes it. Especially when it’s Suguru that’s considered to be the threat.

You move to unlock your door once Nanami makes his reluctant exit, and when you enter your apartment, you conveniently don’t shut the door. Suguru trails behind you.

You turn on the lights, your living room and kitchen blending together in an open-floor plan, bathed in the stark, white lights hanging from your high ceilings. Your apartment, at least what Suguru can see of it, is tastefully decorated. Courtesy of your mother, he’s sure. He would ask about her, ask how she’s doing, but he figures now’s just not the right timing. 

It doesn’t seem to be the right timing for anything he wants to say. He wants to mention that he’s thought about you, thought about reaching out — sometimes to explain himself, and other times just to discuss the mundane aspects of life — but he thinks that would be even worse than apologizing. It would be cruel of him to dangle this information in your face, haunt you with the knowledge that all this time, he’s truly been avoiding you. Knowing you, you would have questioned him on why he didn’t bother reaching out, and he would have been stuck admitting that it’s simply because he was too scared that you wouldn’t answer. 

“Want a drink?” You ask him, back facing him as you peer into your fridge. He catches a glimpse of shiny glass bottles, water bottled in Europe and with the optimal pH balance, he’s certain of it. His throat feels a bit dry, but he tells you no. 

“I drank enough water on the drive up here,” he tells you, which again, isn’t a lie. Suguru feels a bit pleased with himself, even if it is a bit narcissistic of himself for expecting a pat on the back for doing something so simple. He supposes it’s just because he’s gotten so used to never being honest with himself — or others, for that matter — so his current streak for telling the truth seems like something to celebrate. 

“I didn't drink enough.” You say, and he can’t tell if it’s alcohol you’re talking about or water. You’re a lightweight; yet another trait that seems to be passed down the Gojo family. That explains Nanami escorting you home, then. 

“Aren’t you going to ask how I found you?” Suguru helps himself to taking a seat on the white couch in your living room. Because there’s no walls separating the two different spaces, he can still look at you from this position as you rest your elbows on your kitchen’s island, as if needing the support. 

“If you wanted me to know, you’d let me know.” It’s the way you say it that reveals that this comment isn’t made just in reply to his current question, but for everything else Suguru was going to follow it with. Don’t you want to know where I went? Don’t you want to know why I left? 

It’s amazing what humans are capable of. Nearly six years since the two of you have lost contact — since Suguru broke all contact — and yet, you can still read him just as well as he can read you. You see him for what he is, not whatever mask he wants to disguise himself with, and it’s scary, he thinks. Scary to be seen by someone. And nice. It’s nice to have someone know you’re a monster and still not run away.

He’s not quite sure what that says about you.

“It’s a bit of a funny story.” He says, trying to steer this conversation to a more lighthearted tone even though the two of you are nowhere close to feeling light and the jury’s still out on whether or not Suguru Geto has a heart. “You don’t need the reminder, but don’t ever tell Mei Mei a secret you want to keep.” 

The mention of your shared friend — if Mei Mei can even be considered one — makes the corners of your pretty mouth tilt upward. Mei Mei was born with a silver spoon, but the running joke is that it wasn’t in her mouth because she bartered with the doctor and blackmailed him into giving her a gold one. If you have the funds, Mei Mei has the information you’re looking for. 

She’s the only number Suguru saved in his phone contacts, and it’s only because he knew that if he needed anyone else’s number, Mei Mei would readily give it after her Venmo request goes through. 

“Of course she would tell you my address.” You say, but you don’t sound upset at all. Just amused, like this whole situation is something endearing, and you don’t harbor any ill feelings towards either of them, even though both Suguru and Mei Mei technically violated your trust. Suguru more so than Mei Mei, but, well, semantics. 

“Aren’t you mad?” The “at me” is unspoken.

“Mei Mei is a free spirit.” It’s a joke, and Suguru makes a sound from his throat that resembles a laugh. Mei Mei may do whatever she wants, but nothing about her comes free.

He knows you know what he was actually asking. He’s been trying to gauge your reaction to everything he says, trying to see if you hate his guts or not. 

“I missed you.” You tell him suddenly, and while he’s imagined those words coming out of your mouth, it still shakes him up a bit. It’s hard constantly posturing as if he’s cool and collected, nothing ever bothering him, his body and expression never betraying him. But it’s his heart that gives him away, and it’s heart that you hold, and no matter what face he puts on, he knows that you’ll know what the words he won’t say are.

“Don’t apologize.” You continue, closing the distance between you two and opting to take a seat next to him. There’s about six inches of space separating you two. The distance shapeshifts in his mind, sometimes becoming mere millimeters and sometimes feeling more like there’s an ocean between you both. 

The sorry was on the tip of his tongue and it traveled all the way there from his heart. It would be a waste of a journey for him to not say it, but he’s certain the apology would do more harm than good, even if it is genuine. 

Suguru stands out against the stark white of your apartment. Your mom likes the aesthetic of it, and since it’s your parents’ money, you merely shrugged and let her do whatever she wanted. In his black pants and black sweatshirt, he looks almost out of place in your home. 

The thought that he doesn’t belong makes your heart hurt more than the burn of the alcohol from tonight going down your throat. 

You don’t waste time wondering where Suguru went because for all intents and purposes, you never even knew where he came from to begin with. You knew him since you were children; your favorite out of all your brother’s friends because it was always Suguru who let you tag along and trail behind them. No one really knows much about Suguru’s life, his past, present, and future all a big blur to anyone but himself. From the way he slowly turns to face you, dark eyes meeting yours, you start to think of the possibility that maybe not even Suguru is an open book with himself. 

Suguru looks like a shadow, standing out from the brightness of everything that is surrounding him in your living room. You want to ask him the questions that plague your mind ever since he’s been gone, but you don’t, because you’re scared he is a shadow. One wrong move, and he just disappears from your grasp once again. 

There are the hard-hitting questions, of course. The ones that search for why he left and why he told no one and why he didn’t bother taking you. Then there are the gentler ones that would still require him to rip himself open and bare himself to you, things like how’s your new place and meet anyone interesting? You feel his gaze travel from your eyes to the slope of your nose and the apples of your cheek, downward to your lips. The intensity of his stare makes you nervously lick your lips, a tiny, quick action, but his eyes greedily take in the sight of the tip of your pink tongue casually making an appearance, only to retreat behind your pretty pink, glossed lips. 

“Are you mad that I came back?” Suguru finds himself taking the role of interviewer, since it’s evident to the two of you that you know better than to bother asking him any questions. He feels like you’re treating him a bit like a stray cat, all cautious and scared of provoking him or forcing him to run away. He wants to tell you that this is not the case and that he actually plans on staying this time around, but he hasn’t entirely convinced himself yet, so he’s not going to break your heart with any more empty promises. 

“No. Like I said, I missed you.” He wants to be able to blame your honesty on account of you being drunk, but he knows that you’ve just always been honest to a fault. 

“You shouldn’t.” He tells you this, and you scoff. Probably because Suguru is the last person who should be giving any sort of life advice. 

“Guess what I’m thinking.” You say, and Suguru feels something come alive from within, like he’s been frozen for the past six years, and the more he gets to bask in the warmth of your presence, the more he starts to defrost. There’s not a single hint of anger or malice in your tone, just the familiar, lighthearted, girlish tone of yours. 

“That you think I’m a creep and want me to get the hell out.” 

You frown, rolling your eyes, tucking your feet beneath you to get more comfortable on the couch.

“I’m thinking about that last time you told me I shouldn’t be doing something.” There’s a gleam in your bright eyes that clearly spells out desire, and Suguru is very, very close to defrosting. In fact, there’s a heat that’s beginning to settle deep in him, and maybe he should know better than to indulge in it, but it’s been years, and you are sitting here in front of him, pretty and fresh, and his hindbrain takes the driver’s seat. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But he does know, and he knows that you know that he knows, just as you seemingly know everything about him. Maybe not about his childhood — or lack, thereof — or what he’s been up to, but you know the important stuff. The things that make him tick and all the words he fails to say. Three words. Three words that he doesn’t think he’ll ever muster enough courage to say to you, but from the look in your eyes, you already know. 

“I’ll jog your memory.” 

And suddenly, your lips are pressed against his. You’re kissing him, and like the lovesick fool he is, he’s kissing you back. It’s pure muscle memory, maybe even animal instinct. He thought that leaving Tokyo was the right thing to do, and for the most part, it was, but with your lips perfectly melding with his own, he thinks that leaving was stupid. 

Making out is such a juvenile ordeal, but he relishes in it because Suguru feels like he’s spent most of his youth trying to outrun it, and now he’s trying to take advantage of what his boyhood should have consisted of. The kisses are now bordering on sloppy and hazy, and somehow, you end up straddling his lap. He’s hard, and he should be embarrassed at popping a boner just from wet kisses, but it’s you. You have an effect on him that no one else does. His Achilles. The one weakness only he can feel. 

Suguru knows that he is not a good person because a good person doesn’t go behind their best friend’s back and fucks their little sister. He had told, thirty minutes before introducing you to the feeling of his cock stretching you out, that the two of you shouldn’t be doing that. Suguru knows that he is not a good person because he cannot be any happier at the fact that history has a funny way of repeating itself. Six years later, and the two of you are back in a similar position.

You’re starting to rut against him, your dress riding up your thighs and exposing more of your skin to him. Suguru helps himself to handfuls of your soft flesh, squeezing in a manner that can’t be defined as gentle, but he loves how you take him as he is without any sort of complaint. All you do is let out a low moan, your pantyclad pussy grinding against his equally clothed bulge. 

Your movements are a bit desperate, frenzied. You’re getting lost in pleasure already, and he hasn’t even done much to elicit such a reaction. The idea that only he can get you this riled up with doing so little makes him impossibly harder, and he looks down, realizing that you’re so soaked, your panties are practically translucent. 

The two of you have the option of taking things slow, but neither of you want to do that. When you spend some time starving, you don’t savor the meal, you scarf it down. 

That’s what the two of you are — hungry, greedy — as you both hastily strip as much clothing as you can bear to spend time getting out of. Your minidress is tossed carelessly on the living room floor, and Suguru can only bother with unzipping his pants and pushing down his briefs just enough to free his cock. 

The intrusion of the tip of his cock entering your wet, needy cunt is less of an intrusion and instead akin to something rightfully returning to where it belongs. Your hands are tangled in his hair, and he relishes this feeling. This wholeness, this concept of being complete.

The inviting warmth of your pussy makes him want to cum right on the spot, but he can’t waste it. He’s spent years pining after you, missing you, and he wants you to feel like the time apart had been worth it. 

“I missed you.” This time it’s him who makes the admittance. You tighten up at this confession, and it evokes a low groan from him, almost as if you had forced the sound to come from all the way down his throat.

“I know.” You gasp out, not able to speak clearly with how deep Suguru is hitting. Your living room is filled with the wet clicks and slaps of skin against skin, your juices coating his cock every time he pulls out. 

The vein on the underside of his cock rubs against your walls, and the slight curve of it enables him to hit that gummy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. You’ve never given much thought to cocks, but you know that Suguru’s is the prettiest of them all. 

“Tell me you’re mine.” He grunts out, lips brushing against the soft skin of your neck before biting down; gentle enough not to draw blood, sharp enough to still leave a mark. You rock against him, hips moving in tandem with his thrusts, the steady hum of pleasure continuously building up in your lower belly. You are dizzy with pleasure; blanketed in it, being spoon fed it. 

He doesn’t need you to say it to know it’s true, but you moan it out anyway, both to appease him and because there’s a sort of pride in knowing that you belong to him. 

“I’m yours. I belong to you.” The words are separated, punctuated, by the little gasps for air you give out because with every word, he thrusts up even harder, hitting that special spot that will have you cumming all over him, making a mess. 

“Yeah?” It comes out sounding like a shaky breath, and he’s close, you know it, you can feel it. 

Calloused pads belonging to fingers much larger than yours are being pressed against your clit. You’re soaked, and the dryness of his hands combining with your overall slickness gives way to delicious friction that has you cumming with his name as a broken moan filtering through your swollen lips. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Good fucking girl.” He mutters, relishing in the way your walls tighten, spasm, clenching and unclenching sporadically as your body loses its energy and you press yourself up against his chest.

He follows after just a few more sloppy thrusts, the last one forcing himself as deep inside of you as possible. His cum is hot and thick, and it’s filling you to the brim. If he pulls out now, it’ll flood out of you, and the thought is both sad and hot at the same time. You want his cum inside of you, to serve as a reminder that this is real, that he’s real. 

But seeing the physicality of him staking his claim, white seed dripping out of you, turns you on. Him, too, with the look of fascination and boyish wonder he has in his eyes as he stares at how the two of you are connected.

Before he can bother with confirming a round two, a sharp knock on the door has the two of you comically jumping a bit in surprise, both of you glancing at the door and then at each other.

“[Name], I know you’re in there!” You freeze. 

Satoru. 

Suguru wants to try to calm you down, whisper to you that everything’s going to be fine, but the anger laced in his best friend’s — former best friend’s — voice is enough to make him freeze up, too. Not just his icy tone, but what he says.

“I know you’re back, too, Suguru.”

[pinknipszz]

POUND TOWN!

modern au, 18+, mdni pls

“sukuna,” you click your tongue, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at the tall, pink-haired man standing at your doorstep. he doesn’t look that different since you last saw him, wearing the same loose wife-beater tank top and grey sweatpants. your nose scrunches up when you catch a whiff of him, as if he can’t decide between cheap cologne, weed, or gym sweat. “what are you doing here?”

“got bored,” he deadpans, tilting his head slightly to catch a glimpse of your apartment through the gap, half-expecting a thing or two to look different. you only sigh and shake your head. sukuna has a strange habit of popping up out of nowhere, knocking on your door, stealing some food, and fooling around for a bit before disappearing for months. when you think sukuna is gone for good, he comes back. like a stray cat. 

you probably shouldn’t be taking in a stray so easily, especially one with claws, but how were you supposed to know that a simple conversation starter like “you smell like blue razz ice” would plant the seed of a beautiful friendship with the hottest plug in the city? it's a little unconventional but neither of you care. what irks you, though, is his shitty timing. “you can’t be here right now,” you say. “i’m busy with something.”

but instead of apologizing for disturbing your peace like any normal person, sukuna plants a foot against the door and pushes open with full-force. you yelp and jump back quickly before it slams against your face, but the drywall isn’t so lucky. you think you hear a loud crack. “what the hell is your–!” before you could finish, the bastard shoves past you and waltzes in like he owns the place. what a fucking bitch!

you lock the door, grumbling. seems like he hasn’t changed much in personality either. when you follow his trail and catch him digging through your fridge, you can’t bite back the sarcasm. “are you that much of a lousy deadbeat to go through girls’ apartments for food?” sukuna turns to flip you off before resuming his venture.

“i know you have more than fucking vegetables in here,” he scoffs, “where is the— gotcha.”

he pulls out your familiar container for leftovers. you don’t even remember what you cooked. it could’ve been weeks old, but sukuna clearly doesn’t have half the mind to care as he rips off the lid and eats with his free hand. “eugh. you’re disgusting,” rolling your eyes, you leave the kitchen and make your way towards the couch to continue your show. you doubt you’ll even enjoy yourself with him around, but whatever.

you won’t let that guy get to your head. just pretend he isn’t there. it's not that serious. the knots in your shoulders loosen when you lean back against the couch and reach for the remote to adjust the volume until sukuna’s shuffling is reduced to nothing but background noise. and it works for the most part. you don’t know how much time passes, maybe an hour or two, until you almost forget he's even there.

a heavy weight precariously plops beside you. cheap cologne, weed, gym sweat. they overwhelm your senses entirely. “breaking bad? is this some kind of joke? thought you said you were busy,” sukuna throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. he doesn’t budge when you try to shove him away, so you resort to pinching his side instead, earning a sharp yelp from the young man. “obviously i am. and don’t get so full of yourself. you don’t even cook.”

he mutters a few words under his breath, probably something vile and venomous, but you couldn’t care less and revert your attention back to the tv. you've waited this long for the show's season finale, and you'll be damned if you let this bastard distract you. but sukuna thinks more with his dick than his brain, evident in the way that the hand on your shoulder slides down and finds your waist, rubbing small circles and squeezes tight on the meat of your flesh.

the episode continues, but you don’t even know what’s happening anymore. when you decide that it's futile to watch without any knowledge of what happened prior, you sigh inwardly and glance to your side. sukuna isn't even looking at the tv.scrolling through his phone, he looks bored and uninterested, as if there's a million other things he could be doing right now. but he’s here with you, holding you close, which is entirely unbecoming for a man like him.

your heart twinges. no, you scold yourself, not for him. anyone but him. sukuna is a stray cat that takes and takes and takes. a storm that wreaks havoc, leaves chaos and destruction in his wake before disappearing like mist. there’s always an underlying motive with him, one that forces you to pick apart his words and play detective for a mystery not worth divulging. 

“relax,” he tuts. but you can’t. not when his hand travels lower down your side, poking and prodding, teasing the waistband of your shorts. and when his fingertips finally melt into unmarred flesh, heat pools deep in your stomach. “sukuna,” comes his only warning. the man of the hour merely flashes a shit-eating grin before he grabs your jaw and presses his mouth to yours.

you taste the earth on his tongue. it’s sweet and smokey and slightly bitter. with a hint of fruit and leftovers from your fridge. strong arms wrap around you properly, holding you close, so close that his heart beats against your own. you kiss him back eagerly. sukuna’s hands move with intent, relearning parts of your body that were forgotten throughout your time apart. when he bites your lips raw, you whimper.

“i know baby, i know,” he hushes in between wet kisses. he pushes until your back hits the cushions underneath. sukuna climbs over and grabs your thighs with two strong hands, cock twitching in his pants at how your flesh spills between his fingers. he positions them over his shoulders and leans down for another a searing kiss. you’re smothered like this, rendered useless under the weight of him and your knees against the sides of your head, pushed far beyond a mating press.

you moan in his mouth when he grinds against you. “i know how much you miss me, miss my cock,” sukuna snarls out, jaw clenching with impatience as he tears through your shorts. the cold air slams against your cunt like a sledgehammer. the ceiling spins overhead. “i’m here, i’ll take care of you.” it’s a salacious promise that he seals with a tender kiss against your temple. you’re writhing, slurring his name as you blink blearily through the blood rushing to your head. he makes a show of pulling himself out of his pants.

sukuna runs a thumb over your folds before smearing the lewd concoction of slick and precum with the tip of his cock. the sight of your sopping hole is obscene, no doubt about it, but that hardly matters now. “put it in already,” you whine with tears collecting in your lashes, the position too taxing for your body. and for once, sukuna listens. he leans forward, groaning as he feeds inch after inch of his hard length into your aching hole. there’s a ring of pink stretched taut around him when he pulls back just slightly. you dig your painted nails in his bicep, squealing.

no matter how many times he’s fucked you, with three fingers or more, cock or toys, it always feels like the first time. “s–slow down–” comes a mewl from underneath him when he pushes in too eagerly. sukuna's eyes flit down to take in the sight of you, flushed out and gorgeous, and decides to tease your pitiful sensitivity. a loud moan is ripped from your throat when he pinches your clit. you try to squirm away.

“oh come on. quit pretending you don’t like it when i do that,” sukuna snickers, readjusting his grip on your plush waist before plunging in. hard. you wail at the motion, eyes fluttering close as the lines of your body arch up to meet him. when you’re like this, soft and pliant, sukuna pounds into you easily, molding your walls into the shape of his cock until your wet heat is nothing but a furnace for him to melt into. 

and then you feel his lips against your jaw, dry and chapped and dragging harshly. the rhythm he sets is nothing short of violent. your moans and his, ladened with the sounds of skin-on-skin, blend together in a filthy cacophony that you can hardly register over the thick scent of sex that leaves your head spinning. in between mindless thrusts, a pink tongue darts out to sample the sheen of sweat on your skin. you drool deliriously at the sensation.

then sukuna pulls back to watch you, your legs remaining in their rightful place over his shoulders. a hand travels down to where you are connected and collects your slick between two fingers. he smears it all over, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your clit before spreading your folds apart. “look at her,” he coos, grinning wickedly as he watches your greedy cunt swallow each sizable inch with each poignant snap of his hips. “what a delicious looking thing.”

“sukuna,” your lips fall open at the praise so invitingly that it’d be a crime not to take the opportunity. it’s a clash of teeth when he finally kisses you. sloppy and hungry and urgent, like a man who’s been starved for years. he drinks your moans and savors them, brushing against your tongue and gliding over the roof of your mouth, hips never ceasing their violent rhythm. when you realize the strange intimacy in this position, you feel the familiar, guttural sensation just beneath our gut.

and sukuna feels it too, the way your walls tighten around him. growling with newfound fervor, he leaves a string of spit when he pulls away to angle your hips and hammer against your cervix, eager to finish with you. screams echo across your apartment. he pants quietly, eyes ablaze and lips swollen from your incessant teeth. your body shivers and twitches from carnal ecstasy, addicted to the thick intrusion that nudges the deep bundle of nerves within you. a spot that only sukuna can reach.

the thought does something to you, because your body decides then to tense up against him, clamping hard around his perimeter and soaking his cock in squirt. although his hips stutter, sukuna doesn't relent and fucks through your tight walls. you cry out and hold him close, digging deep scores down the broad expanse of his back before sukuna finally empties himself with one last thrust. a full-body shudder racks through your body. the sensation tears a second orgasm from your twitching cunt.

through the ringing in your ears, you heave a sigh of content. your companion chuckles and collapses on top of you without bothering to pull out. “i’m coming back next week. got kicked out of my old place,” he suddenly mumbles in the crook of your neck, barely audible. you register his words through post-coital bliss. when you don't respond, he turns his head, but you're already looking at him. studying the expression on his face.

"fine," you concede. "but you better get a real job."

(masterlist) | (a/n: tell ur man to wash his pp before sex. idk if this gets a p.2)

[reareaotaku]

Good Morning

Summary: You tell Ford 'Good Morning' everyday, too scared to say anything to him even though you have a crush on him, but one day you say nothing- taking him by surprise Tw & Cw: Older Man/Young Woman, Slight Jealousy, Slight possession, Reader's in College, Stan being a dick [Though what's new] Linktree 4 the People of Palestine [If I made a sequel I would call it 'To Good at Goodbyes'] Word Ct: 2k+

Inspired by: An Unrequited Love and Good Morning Wishes [They ended it with Angst and I didn't like that]

You had never really had attractions towards older men that could be your grandfather, but Ford was different. He wasn't like other old men. He was active and full of life- He was like a young man in an old man's body and you found that attractive.

He was one of the only reasons you worked at the Mystery Shack, cause it sure wasn't for the shitty pay or Stan being a dick. Actually- He was the only reason you worked here. You sure weren't coming out of your way to see Stan. Just the thought alone made you shiver.

Though you instantly lit up when hearing a door in the back open- The one behind the vending machine [You didn't question it]. You straightened up and looked towards where you knew he was going to enter.

He had his head in one of his books, a journal perhaps? and you were quick to pipe a 'Good Morning, Mr. Pines'. He doesn't look up, but returns the gesture with a 'Good Morning, Y/n.'

You liked when Ford said your name. It made your body feel all hot and tingly, like something was twirling inside of you. It made you feel special- Even if it was nothing. It was just a name.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Stan coming in and you quickly took your eyes off his twin brother because if there was one thing you knew is that Stan would yell about you staring at Ford, which would successfully embarrass you.

For twins, they couldn't be more different. While Ford was handsome, active, charming, intelligent, respectful, etc, Stan was... well Stan. He had his own charm, sure, but nothing like Ford. Ford was perfect in your eyes.

---

You sat in your class, your mind going elsewhere when the professor was talking. You knew you should have been listening, but how could you when you knew a man like Ford. God, he was such an intelligent man. You bet he could have passed this class in just a few days. Maybe you should ask him for help in class? That could be a conversation starter... But what if he said no?

God, you wished you could just read his mind or say what he wanted to hear. Why couldn't you just be the same age? Why did you have to be over 40+ years younger than him? Your mother should of had you sooner- Or maybe your grandma? Doesn't matter, you just wanted his attention.

Speaking of attention, you wished you had been giving more of it to class, because you were startled when the professor called your name.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ms. L/n?"

You look up at him surprised, before realizing it was just you and him and everyone was gone. You shook your head, before rubbing the back of your neck, "I don't think my thoughts are worth that much."

"Well, something is occupying your mind."

"Just missing home, I guess."

"Well, try to focus more. You have so much potential and I'd hate for it to go to waste because of your attention span."

"Of course. Thank you, sir."

---

"Good morning, Mr. Pines."

Ford stops, looking towards you, "You know, Y/n, you can call me Ford. Mr. Pines makes me feel so old around you."

You blush, a stupid grin overtaking your face. "Of course, Mr. P- Ford.." You were so happy, because that was the most he had ever spoken to you. Maybe he did like you, too? No, he was probably just being friendly.

"Get that goofy-ass look off your face and get back to work," Stan yells throwing a newspaper, that you narrowly avoided.

A frown quickly overtake your face and you rolled your eyes, before responding to Stan. "You have such a way with words, Stan. It's a wonder you're not more popular with the ladies."

"That's what I've been saying for years," He replies, ignoring your sarcasm and it just causes you to roll your eyes and shake your head.

---

Watching your short interaction with his brother made Ford a little jealous. He told you that you can call him Ford, but you just call Stan by his name without any problem? Did you like Stan more than him? No, Ford shook his head. There was no way any woman would like Stan more than someone else, much less him. Besides, Ford felt a connection between the both of you, he just hopes it wasn't one sided.

---

You turned your head, smiling, expecting a customer, but it was Ford. Your customer-service smile quickly turned to a real smile. "Good afternoon, Ford."

Without missing a beat, he repeats the phase back to you, "Good after to you as well, Y/n."

You sighed, watching him leave, wishing he'd just start the conversation and finally take the initiative... Though, you doubted he felt anything for you- at least not in the same way you feel. Maybe it was just best to move on and date someone your age... Or- You looked over to Stan who was conning some poor tourist and shook your head. Yeah, someone your age to be realistic.

----

You sighed, fiddling with a pen. The Shack was empty, which wasn't common for all of Stan's scams, but you liked the quiet. Though, with your mind focused on the pen you didn't even notice that Ford passed by you- Multiple times.

While you didn't take notice of him, Ford did take notice of you and was a little confused when you didn't say anything to him. He was going to say something to you, but he didn't want to catch you in a bad mood, so he decided to let you have your day, even if he missed your little greetings.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?"

You looked over at Stan, confused on why he was being a dick. "What?"

"You're not doing anything! I'm not paying you to sit around."

"Uh, there's no one here. Besides, you don't pay me that much ingeneral- In fact, I think you're paying me below minimum wa-"

"You know what, let's just call it a night and all head out before we say something stupid," He laughs which just causes you to sigh and roll your eyes, before getting up and turning the closing sign.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow Stan... Unless you die in your sleep." You whisper the last part under your breath, hoping he didn't hear it, but he seemed to sense you were shit talking.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" You quickly shake your head after turning to him. "Nothing. Just a good night."

"Hmm.. Good night, Y/n. Don't get arrested."

"I'll try."

You left the store, heading to your car, thankful that the day was over. Now you had to head to class.

---

"What was that?"

Stan looks over to his brother, confused. "What?"

"You and Y/n. I didn't know you were close..."

"Close?" He laughs, before realizing Ford was not joking. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

"It's a good thing you don't know any better."

Stan lets out a huff, before taking a sip of his beer. "What's got your panties in a twist anyway?"

"She didn't say anything to me. She always says something to me."

"Maybe she didn't notice you."

"She noticed you."

"I'm a hard guy to miss- Unless you're my ex-wife," Stan laughs at his joke, not taking Ford seriously at all.

"Ugh. You're an idiot." Ford walks past his brother, going back to his room.

"Don't go fucking my workers, Ford!" Stan yells at him, but Ford chooses to ignore him.

---

You watched the clock, thrilled when it finally hit five and it was your chance to leave. You hadn't seen Ford all day, which had surprised you, but you were glad. You knew you wouldn't be able to keep yourself together if you were around him.

You go to reach for your bag, only for the strap to break and all your books to fall out. You curse under your breath going to reach for them, when you see someone beat you to it.

"How to Be Sort of Happy in Engineering School?"

You blush, taking the book from him. "Uh, it's stupid."

"I don't think it's stupid. I didn't know you had a passion for engineering."

"Eh, my dad's an engineer and he wants me to follow in his footsteps."

He hums, grabbing your other books and putting them on the table. "Well, what would you want to do?"

"What... do I want to do? I don't know... No one has ever asked... But, if I had to choose, maybe be like you."

Ford feels his throat tighten and a blush overcome his face. It felt weird for you to say such a thing, especially since you were ignoring him the past. Speaking of which, Ford decides now was the perfect time to confront you.

"Are you okay?"

"What?" You looked at him confused where the question came from. It was totally out of left field.

"You've been acting... different. I feel like you've been avoiding me or something. Maybe it's just me."

"Uh, it's nothing- Just school is on my mind a lot so I guess I can be... uh airheaded?" You tilt your head, not feeling that you were expressing your thoughts right, even though he wasn't totally wrong. "It gets pretty stressful- School I mean- Not talking to you!" You awkwardly laugh and Ford just smiles, before nodding.

"Ahh, yes. Of course. My apologies."

"Don't sweat it, man."

---

Ford wasn't good with people, much less women, so he was unsure how to keep your friendship going and possibly go other ways... Besides, it still felt like you weren't truly being honest with him. Like you were purposefully ignoring him... He wondered why it bothered him so much. Like, what was the big deal, they were just words... But maybe he was used to your attention.

He sat at his table, trying to think of conversation starters, so he could talk to you again. That's when he remembered the conversation about college. It seemed that maybe you were struggling with college, especially since you didn't like your major. Maybe he should offer you assistance? Yes, that's what he would do...

But what if you took that as him mocking his intelligence? Should he be on the low about it? Like suggest helping you without being upfront?

Ford finally decides that he'll mention your school work and lead the conversation to see if you need help. He smiled at himself when he came up with the plan, deciding it was perfect with no holes.

---

A few days had passed since Ford decided that he would try and approach you to see if you needed help in school. He kept trying to start the conversation, but something always got in the way- Usually Stan. But today was the day.

He saw you about to leave when he called you back. You walk over to him, confused on what Ford needed.

"What's up, Ford?"

"Uh, you mentioned that school was stressful... Uh, you know if you need help, I'm free whenever you need me."

"Yeah? What do you know about engineering?"

He smirks, "Oh, please Y/n. I know everything."

"I believe you." You look to your car, before looking back at Ford, "If you're serious though, I would love your help. It would be great to have someone like you there. I just know it would be easier."

----

You feel strange with Ford looking over your shoulder. You were worried that you were doing something wrong. God, you'd be embarrassed if you fucked up infront of him.

"You know, you're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. I thought you'd need my help more."

You blush, straightening up, looking down at your work. "Oh- Uh, thank you."

"Can I ask you a question, Y/n? It might be a little weird, but I don't remember what the answer is."

"Uh, sure. Go for it."

"How old are you again?"

You look over at Ford a little confused, "Uh... 20?"

"God, I forget how young you are," Ford says. "I always think you're older than you are. I forget there's such an age difference between us, because it doesn't feel like that.

"Is... that a bad thing?" You blushed, embarrassed about him pointing out that you were so much younger than him.

He looks at you, not missing a beat. "No... It doesn't bother me. Does..." He looks away, "Uh, it bother you?"

"Not at all."

"That's good to hear."

You sigh, closing your eyes and Ford decides to make a daring move.

"Y/n."

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to come with me on one of my... adventures?"

You looked at him, wide eyed. Was he inviting you to hang out with him? Alone? Without stupid college work? "Uh- Yeah, I would love too."

"That's great. I know with you it'll be a much better experience."

"Oh, wow, I can't believe you're inviting me to hang out with you doing your fun stuff. I've always wanted to do that stuff you know?"

"Well, I wish you would have said something, because I always love the company, especially yours."

[qiqi-media]

Don't know if it's because of the new movie release but I've been seeing a lot more of descendants the og movies resurfacing on different social medias and the Audrey comments have started back up again. One in particular that I've never liked

"Why is she doing all of that over a high school break up?"

For starters Descendants was about teenagers, all of their relationships were high school relationships. The "true love" couple had their true love's kiss while they were both still in high school. So to refer to Audrey and Ben as a "high school" relationship that's purposely downplaying her feelings and their relationship. I get being confused because Descendants goes back and forth with the canon. At the end of D1 she was fine and in Wicked World her life didn't drastically change because of their breakup. But in D3 that is what happened, her life drastically changed and she was treated like shit.

She lost all of her friends "There's nothing to lose when you're lonely and friendless" & "Why is she here." There was no reason why that had to have happen, Audrey was never shown to be so terrible to the point where if she wasn't dating Ben that everyone had to abandon her. Especially in D1 her actions were no worse than Jane's and Jane still kept her friends and were friends with the VKs. Jane in my personal opinion was worse than Audrey, at least to the Vks in D1. Her worst crime was laughing at Jane's hair and I'm not understanding why that's unforgivable in comparison to Mal trying to manipulate her with said hair. Chad was even more social in Auradon but Audrey is completely shunned and for what? Because she's not dating Ben? People were straight up ignoring her when she spoke and in canon Audrey up until that point hadn't done anything so cruel to where that would make sense. She wasn't any snarkier than Chad or Jane on occasions and definitely not worse than things the Vks did. The only explanation we can come to is that when she wasn't Ben's girlfriend she didn't matter to people anymore.

That's not even addressing her shitty ass family, they treated her like dirt because she wasn't in line for the throne anymore. (those were never Audrey's intentions btw) Her cousin, her mother, her Grandma all acted like she was a failure because she wasn't with Ben and more specifically because she "lost" Ben to their Family's enemy. Like she had any choice in the matter, Ben didn't even have the choice of when and how they broke up. So if she couldn't turn to her friends or her family who did she have?? Nobody she was isolated and alone. Other adults? Look at Belle she talked shit about her too. She had Chad but because Audrey knew she couldn't return his feelings she stopped relying on him after a certain point.

All of this because she and Ben broke up, because she wasn't next in line to become Queen of Auradon. (That's another thing, her acknowledging that if she and Ben stayed together forever would end up with her being Queen isn't her being thirsty for the crown. It's her preparing for her future that, yes she was looking forward to but she wasn't thirsty to marry him because if she was, her family seemed more than open to an arranged marriage. But there was never one, they were simply boyfriend and girlfriend.)

She lost her life long best friend too: Ben. Even if they truly made up post D3 we know their relationship would never be the same.

So trying to act like Audrey had an entire breakdown over the simple fact of their high school relationship ending is false.

"How was she not supposed to tie her self worth in dating Ben when people started treating her like a waste of space when she wasn't with him?"

[patscorner]

So Much More

Summary: After a bad day, you seek comfort in your girlfriend.

wc: 2,032

Contains: slightly suggestive...?

______________________________

To say it'd be a bad day would be an understatement. For starters, you woke up alone, instead of intertwined with your girlfriend, like you usually would. Waking up next to KK was easily one of your favorite things to do, basking in the quiet mornings you have together.

But today, she had an early morning practice to go to, so you woke up relishing in the ghostlike scent that she'd left behind. Not only that, but you woke up with a headache right over your eyebrows, making it hard to do easy tasks such as keeping your eyes open. But you had three hours till you had to go to work, and you didn't want to hear your boss bitch about how you'd called in too late. You really didn't feel like being written up, so you dragged yourself out of bed and trudged to the kitchen.

You put a bagel in the toaster and decide to make some coffee. That's mistake number one because as you go to lift the mug, your knee gives out, and in an attempt to steady yourself, the hot coffee spills all over your KK’s shirt. Quickly, it starts to burn, so you swiftly put the mug down and take the wet shirt off. You curse as you pull the shirt off and use it to clean up some of the coffee that's spilled on the floor.

Wait…what's burning?

Your eyes widen as your head snaps to the toaster, watching as gray smoke wafts through the air. “Shit, shit, shit!” You pop the toaster and pull the bagels out, wincing as the charcoal bread stings your fingers. “Motherfucker!” You exclaim, frustratedly giving up. Guess no breakfast for you.

Definitely another mistake, but at that moment, you didn't care.

You stomp into your bedroom and begin searching for the outfit of the day. Normally, you enjoy this process, but when you notice that KK had forgotten to do the laundry before she left, your hope dwindled. Finally, though, you made your way out of the house and to your car. You sigh heavily as you notice a white ticket in your window. This isn't the first time you'd gotten an unnecessary ticket, but being a transfer, they hadn't put your name in the system yet, so you just had to deal with the growing stack of white papers in your glove compartment.

The day drags on as you feel yourself growing increasingly overwhelmed. As another disgruntled customer complains to your boss about how you refused to take their expired coupon, you grow even more eager for your lunch break. The routine was always the same, you'd take your break and call KK, who was usually doing homework or hanging out with Ice and Paige, and you'd rant about your shitty customers and boss. And KK would listen and add her own comments, never failing to lighten the mood. But a frown makes its way to your face as you call KK twice, and you get no answer. You notice she hasn't answered your messages since she sent the ‘good morning’ text.

You text her again before slamming your phone frustratedly down on the table. You ignore the stares you get as you fight the tears threatening to fall. You get up from your chair, the wood scraping on the tile floor of the café. Fuck it, you'll eat in your car.

Finally, finally, the day is over. Finally, you get your car and drive away from the job that doesn't pay you nearly enough for what you go through every day. Finally, you pull into the college dorm parking lot and sigh as you notice your neighbor parked in your spot again. Finally, you walk past that same neighbor’s door, having no energy to argue about it. Finally, you approach your door and groan as you hear Sexyy Red blasting on the other side. Finally, you open the door and you smile as you finally see your girlfriend.

Your smile falters as you look around the room and notice there are 4 more people in your home than what you want there to be. KK must've invited Paige, Ice, Azzi, and Aubrey over after practice. You feel frustration brewing inside of you as you see the mess they've made of your dorm. KK is on live, doing a talent show with Aubrey and Ice standing behind her, doing some dance. Paige and Azzi are sitting off-camera, Azzi's legs over Paige's, the blonde's hand rubbing Azzi’s leg lovingly.

Gross.

They don't notice you walk in, but they do notice when you put slam your bag down on the table.

“Oh, hey, baby.” KK says, barely sparing you a glance. It hurts, of course, and normally, you'd have said something. But with two thousand people watching, as well as four other unwanted guests, you hold your tongue. Instead of answering her, you walk over to her and wrap your arms around her waist, resting your head on her shoulder.

You and KK weren't a secret. You were just really private about how much of your relationship was on the internet. Knowing this, you didn't think it'd be that big of a deal if you were close, and even if it would send shockwaves through the internet, you were too tired to care. Apparently, KK hadn't noticed your gloomy mood, or if she did, it didn't stop her from shrugging you off and muttering something along the lines of ‘we're on live’. You back away immediately, unwrapping your arms from her completely.

“Are you fucking serious?” You say taking a couple steps away from her.

You watch her eyes widen as she glances between you and the live. You already know you're gonna regret doing this in front of everyone.

“You don't answer my texts all fucking day, and then when I come home, I find out that have you've been on your phone, you'd just rather fuck around with random people than spare your girlfriend a text.” At this point, Aubrey had ended the live, and she and Ice had migrated to the couch awkwardly.

“What the hell is your problem!? You can't curse on live!” She asked bitterly. You and KK rarely fight, and never in front of people, so this was so new for everyone around you. Usually, you'd talk this out later when you were both much calmer, but now, it's too much.

You scoff dryly. “Me cursing is seriously what you're worried about right now?!”

“Bab-”

“No, don't fucking ‘baby’ me. After the shit day I had, all I wanted to do was come to a clean and mostly empty house, and as much as I love to clean up after you and your friends, it wasn't necessarily on my agenda tonight.” Tears have started to fall at this point, all of your emotions from today finally boiling over.

You frustratedly wipe your tears away. “Fuck.” You whimper quietly. KK knows you, inside and out, and she knows when you're angry at her, or if your irritation is just misplaced. She quietly grabs your hand and leads you into your bedroom, hand on your waist, closing the door softly behind you.

“What's going on, baby? What happened?” She sat on the bed, against the headboard, and pulled you onto her so you were straddling her. Your cries haven't stopped, and your silent tears have turned into sobs as you lay your head on her chest. It's been a long day, and all you could do was cling to her shirt like your life depended on it. She wraps her arms around your back, gently rubbing circles under your shirt.

“Shh, I know, baby, I know, it's gonna be okay.” She whispered, kissing just above your ear, on the crown of your head. You cry for god knows how long, KK never stopping her words of comfort. She knows that in times like this, logic doesn't matter.

You sigh deeply into her chest, hiccuping as you feel yourself starting to relax. Your sobs turn into cries, which turn into soft sniffles. She feels your body relax into hers, almost as if you've melted. “Do you wanna talk about it?” She spoke softly into your ear.

You pull away, and her hands cup your face to wipe your tears. You smile at her gesture before nodding. “It's just been a long day. I didn't feel good when I woke up, and I got another ticket, and work was shitty, and you didn't answer when I called you on break, and that bitch parked in my spot again and-”

“Baby, baby, take a deep breath. You're gonna work yourself up again.” She's right, and you know it. You sigh as you plop your face back onto her chest.

She laughs lightly. “I'm sorry I didn't call you, baby, I completely lost track of time after practice. It won't happen again.” She kisses your head.

“It better not. Next time I'll just beat your ass.” you say playfully. She smiles, her hands dropping to your thighs. “I have no doubt- speaking of which, do you need me to beat up that lil’ girl downstairs? This is like the third time she's done that shit.” You laugh, placing your hands on her chest, leaning in to peck her lips.

“Mmm… I missed you.” She murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again. You grin as you ball her shirt up in your hands, pulling her closer, your lips just grazing hers. “I missed you, too.”

She groans as she smashes her lips against yours. The kiss turns heated quickly, and as much as you'd like to continue, you know there's people in your house. So reluctantly, you pull away, and ignore KK's protests as you stand up.

“C'monnn, man.” She whines, reaching for you as you grab a towel. “I'm gonna wash my day away. I'll be back.” You whisper, pecking her lips again, dodging her grabby hands. “You're so fucking lame.” She groans as you walk out of the room. You see the girls playing a game of uno, SZA playing low in the background. Paige lets out a sigh of relief when she sees you.

“Thank God. Time was almost up.” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before Ice looks up and groans. Paige laughs as she digs into her pocket and pulls out a twenty dollar bill.

“You couldn't have waited-” She checks her phone. “-Two more minutes?” Ice deadpans. You raise your eyebrows and Ice cowers a little bit. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You ask.

“I told Ice that you two weren’t fucking, she said that if fifteen minutes went by, you definitely were.” Paige shrugged. “You saved my wallet.”

You gape at Azzi, who's shaking her head. “Do not look at me. I told them you'd beat their ass.”

“You're a fucking idiot.” You say looking at Paige.

“That's what I said.” Azzi mutters.

“How?! Ice did the exact same thing, yell at her, too.”

“Why the fuck are either of you betting on our relationship?” You raise your voice, but you're not being serious, and they know that.

“That's what I said.” Azzi repeats.

“Yo, who's side are you on?” Paige turns to her. Azzi raises her eyebrows. “You're an idiot, and I will always stand by that.”

The room erupts into laughter as you shake your head. “Yo, yo, wait, how scared was KK?” Aubrey asks through her laughter.

“I wasn't scared!” KK calls from the room.

“That face you made before you went in begs to differ.” Paige calls back.

“Girl boo, can you shut the fuck up?” KK shouts back.

You shake your head as you head to the bathroom, the laughter quieting as you walk further away from it.

Even though your day was shit, and even if you broke down, you know that no matter what, KK would be there for you.

And as you showered, you thought about how she had already been through so much with you, and you know that, without a doubt, she's willing to go through so much more.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang @chelisbae

[wist0ragic]

#☆ yandere glamrock freddy !¡ headcanons

(this is my first time writing something so bear with me 😭 it was kinda rushed near the end)

cw: possessive behaviour, overprotectiveness, slightly controlling, slight stockholm syndrome, slightly manipulative, typical yandere behaviour you would expect

- for starters as you would expect and just like everyone else would agree, glamrock freddy is a much more tame yandere

- he’s definitely not out for blood and would in no way physically harm you or others unless absolutely pushed to do so (and only then he would hurt others if absolutely necessary)

- but he will absolutely guilt trip you with those sweet eyes of his and insist that he’s the only one who could really protect you and keep you safe from the harsh reality of the world and all of its cruelties

- whether you’re an employee at the mega pizza plex or simply a customer who stops by when they can, you manage to catch the bots eye on day one

- for example let’s say we went with the idea that you were an employee that worked for the massive place, it would be your first day and of course the usual anxieties of starting something new start to overwhelm you a little

- especially since your main duties would be maintenance work on the big four

- and who else but freddy would immediately pick up on the fact that you were nervous on your first day and happily offer guidance and reassurance

- i mean he practically spends the whole day with you glued to your hip, or at least as much as he can, what with being the big man himself

- but as soon as any shows or birthday parties were finally over with freddy would immediately find his way to wherever you were and fret over how you were doing without him

- had you taken enough breaks? did you drink enough water? did you have something to eat on break? have customers and coworkers been nice to you? have his band mates been treating you well? did you miss him?

- all of these are questions that freddy would fire off rapidly due to worry

- eventually, after some time working at the pizza plex, you open up to freddy about how the monotony of work was getting to you

- and that having to deal with shitty coworkers and customers five days a week was utterly exhausting

- that’s when the idea clicked in the bots head

- freddy could tell you were tired and so who better than him to rescue you from all of that stress and nonsense?

- he just knew that he was the only who could keep you happy and content, even if that meant locking you away in his room

- “but superstar… you shouldn’t have to worry about such silly things like work. you’re too precious to be so stressed out and tired. so let me take care of you from now on. I promise I can make you happy in here with me. It’ll be just us…. forever and ever”

- and a part of that delusional offer does sound tempting you have to admit, to have the glamrock freddy care for you and look after you, but at the end of the day escape still lingered in the back of your mind

- the same could be said if you were a customer as well

- only difference is that freddy would have first met you after his performance, he recognized you from all the cheering you did, it was incredibly endearing

- after that freddy would eagerly wait for you, counting down the days until your next visit and celebrating each and every time you stopped by

- but he would still just as easily find a way to convince you to come with him in his room to spend time together

- “come on superstar! it’s been too long since we last got to hang out, let’s catch up in my room! i have plenty of time before my next show”

- and who wouldn’t trust the big ol’ sweetheart?

- that’s when you would find yourself with the door locking heavily behind you and freddy managing to slip you a nighttime candy or two

- “shhh now superstar, i’ve got you, you’re finally safe now with me” and that would be the last thing you hear before your whole world slowly fades to black

“we were meant for each other, no one else can love you the way i do, so let’s stay together forever…. alright?”

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 16 Prompt: Angst Themed Sentence Starters

3. I don’t know what you want from me. and 5. I don’t want to fight with you. Not tonight.

Tags: Established Relationship, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mentions of Past Child Neglect, Protective Eddie Munson

wc: 1184 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I don’t know what you want from me!” Steve shouts, arms thrown in the air.

He’s glued to the floor in their living room watching as Eddie stalks up and down the length of the room in the dim glow of their Christmas tree. Steve’s hands are clutched around the cordless phone, double-checking that he properly hung it up.

The last thing he needs is for his mother to overhear the argument currently going on.

The same argument that happens every year, without fail.

An unofficial tradition that Steve fucking hates.

“I want you to stand up for yourself!” Eddie shouts back.

Their voices may be raised, but they’re not screaming at each other. At least, not in the ways they were raised too. Their voices may be loud, but they don’t hurl insults at each other. Nor do they shout directly at each other, shouting their concerns into the void of the room instead.

“I do stand up for myself!” Steve defends, crossing his arms.

“Not when it comes to them!” Eddie growls, flippantly waving his hand in the air. “I thought we decided after last year's disaster that we weren’t going to put up with it anymore. If your parents wanted to be in our lives, they’d be there for us every day and not just on the choice fucking holiday so you’re mom can take her family picture that conveniently always makes me look terrible.”

“I know. Okay? I know we said that!” Steve uncrosses his arms, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The other hangs limply by his thighs, opening and closing into a fist, tethering him to the moment. “But they’re still my parents!”

Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. “Just because a piece of paper says they’re your parents doesn’t make it true.”

“I know, but—“

“No! No buts! They’re shitty people, Steve! I’m not going to apologize for saying that because it’s the truth! They only want you around when it's convenient for them and then they leave. You might not see it, but every time they walk out that door you turn into that lonely, abandoned teenager you’ve worked so hard to grow from! I’m not going to let them keep doing that to you!”

“Eddie,” Steve huffs. He’s not wrong, not in the slightest. But it still stings hearing it. Knowing that even though he tries to hide how he feels when his parents walk out the door every year, Eddie sees. That he hurts just as much as Steve does.

“What if it was my dad who called and said, “Clear you’re scheduled for the 20th, we’re having Christmas dinner since I’m going out on Christmas but still need to show face with my friends and see you?” What if he did it every fucking year for seven years, only to bitch and moan about every little thing? Questioning my life choices, talking shit about the man I’ve become because I didn’t live up to his expectations. Making snide comments about you when he thinks you’re not listening. Would you let him keep coming?”

“Of course not!”

“Then you understand where I’m coming from!” Eddie says, slowly making his way over to Steve. “I wish things were different. I wish your parents saw you for the amazing man you are. Saw us for all the work we’ve done to better ourselves. But they don’t. They never will. And I’m tired of pretending for a few hours every year to be okay with their bullshit. You deserve better than that.”

“I—“ Steve breaks, the first tear racing down his cheek before he can even register what’s happening.

He’s wrapped in Eddie’s arms in an instant, pushed and flushed with his warm chest. His shirt is soft, soothing the prickly feeling spreading across his own cheeks as he lets the tears fall. Eddie holds him, strong and firm. Rocks him slowly in his arms, and runs a hand soothingly up and down his back. Whispers encouragement into the wild tufts of hair on the top of his head.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie coos. “It’s okay. S’gonna be okay.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” Steve hiccups, pulling away from Eddie’s embrace. “Not tonight. Not ever.”

“I don’t want to fight with you either.” With a gentle hand, Eddie swipes the tears from Steve’s eyes before cradling his face in his hands. “Especially not about your parents. Maybe about your questionable taste in movies—“

“Hey!” Steve laughs, swatting at Steve’s chest. “You’re the one with the questionable taste.”

Eddie hums, shaking his head. “Keep telling yourself that, big boy.”

They stay like that for a few moments, wrapped in each other's embrace. Letting the tension ease from their bodies and minds. The air in the room already feels lighter, the lights on the trees twinkling brighter.

But there’s still a weight pressing on Steve’s chest. One he knows isn’t going to go away until he figures this out. Once and for all.

“What should I tell them?” he mumbles, words nearly lost amongst the quiet hum of their space heater.

“You could tell them we’re going on vacation? Or that we already made plans.”

“I don’t want to lie to them,” Steve sighs, feeling the pressure building behind his eyes again. “If I tell her that she’ll want to see pictures or hear stories and then it's one lie after another.”

“You could tell them the truth?” Eddie suggests, arms wrapping around Steve again. “Tell them that they don’t deserve to spend Christmas with you because of the way they’ve treated you. That we don’t need their negative energy in our lives.”

Steve grimaces. He wishes he could have a conversation with his mom. Wishes they had the type of relationship that allowed him the grace, to be honest with her. To give her space to listen and hopefully learn. But they don’t. They never have. All that will get Steve is an earful of guilt and yelling, followed by a call from his father about he broke his mother.

Still, what other choice does he have?

If he doesn’t want to lie, the truth is the only other option.

“Will you stay by me while I make the call?”

“Of course, sweetheart. M’not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Steve says, letting the plan take shape in his head. “Okay. I’m going to tell her the truth.”

“I’ll be the whole time,” Eddie says, squeezing Steve’s hand. “But if she starts yelling, I will grab that phone and hang up on her. You understand that, right?”

“I think you hanging up on my mom is the kindest thing you could do to her.”

“Damn right, it is!” Eddie laughs. “Now come on, let’s rip this bandaid off so we can start planning what we’re actually going to do now that we have the 20th free.”

“I’m sure you already have ideas.” Steve laughs, watching as Eddie’s eyes light up as they drink him from head to toe.

“Yeah,” he says, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. “I’ve got a few ideas up my sleeve.”

[thebest-medicine]

3 and 4 fit well together! could we get both of those with lee bakugo please please please please pleaaaaaase (any lers you want will do)

Prompt 3 - "Come any closer and I will end you."

Prompt 4 - “Oh, you shouldn’t have said / done that..”

A/N: They do go well indeed ;)

…

“Hey, you alright man?” Kirishima asks as he comes upon the cracked open door to his best friend’s dormitory and walks in only to see Bakugo tangled half-up in a wrap similar to Aizawa and Shinso’s.

“Shut up. I’m fine. Just…” Katsuki grumbles. “Was trying out this stupid support item and it’s…” He heaves an annoyed sigh. He fights to scramble out of it again, with no such luck.

“Hey- lemme help you.”

“Fuck off. I’m good.”

“You don’t look good.” Kirishima laughs lightly, stepping into the room.

“Come any closer and I’ll kill you.”

“Oh…” Kirishima gives him an unimpressed once over. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

The vein in Bakugo’s forehead nearly pops. “The fuck is that supposed to me-HEEAN! NO! FUCKOFF—”

Kirishima, having closed the distance quickly, begins poking and pinching at Bakugo’s twisted and unprotected form. He tickles along his friend’s sides and stomach, drawing forth a surprised burst of laughter.

“NohohHOHO FUCK YOU! AhahahaAT LEHEHEAST HELP ME OHOHOUT OF THIS!”

“I thought you didn’t want help?”

Bakugo shouts angrily, then keeps laughing. He nearly falls backwards onto his bed, but Kirishima steadies him.

“So I figured I would try to motivate you instead.” He smirks. “Is it working?”

“NahahHAHAHA SHITTY HAHAHAHAIR! I’LL KILL YOHOHOU!”

“No? Sounds like you need some more.”

“NOHOHOHO!”

…

[more sentence starter fic prompts]

[other sentence starter fics]

[read this & further MHA drabbles on ao3]

[the-smart-and-the-dumb-one]

OPEN RP STARTER

Finn was having a really shitty day. So he walks into your cabin and cuddled into you. But Finns not really the physical touch kind of guy

@braydons-world @unstable-son-of-hades @death-breath @demigod-jack-hearth @girl-of-madness @im-pretty-and-in-pink @sunshine-boi1 @capri-sunii (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

[vendetta-if]

Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I still think you’re writing is incredible and I look forward to every update, but am I the only one who finds Takeshi incredibly weird? Like he’s got a wife and 3 kids and yet he’s still pining over my dad who’s been dead for years now. It’s time to move on dude, come on.

If he was younger and single then I’d understand, but the way it comes off, to me at least, is pretty emotionally unfaithful. It reads like Takeshi views Viktor as “the one who got away” which is kind of a shitty attitude to have when you’re married with kids. We haven’t even met Rins mom yet and I already feel bad for her lol, this whole situation is uncomfortable.

Anyways, sorry for my rambling and if you got offended I really do apologize, I wasn’t trying to be mean. Good luck on your future writing!

I appreciate you being polite when writing this and don’t worry, I’m not offended 😁 I have talked a little bit more about him and his feelings for Viktor and about his marriage with Azami in other asks, but I realize that some of them, I answered like in the early days of this blog being up (boy, time sure does fly because it feels like yesterday to me 😭) and not everyone will have read all of the related asks.

So, everything is a lil bit more complicated for Takashi than what it might seem like on the surface, and of course, I can’t really put all of this history and backstory in the main story because it’s not focused on Takashi, or Rin, or the Aikawa, and thus, I understand why some people end up seeing Takashi in a worse light. This is, of course, not to say that he is perfect. I feel like no one in my story is perfect, even Viktor himself, and I like to keep it that way. But I hope my long-winded explanation in this post will help you get a clearer picture on Takashi and his complicated love life 😭.

And right now in the story, I’ll say that he has actually moved on from Viktor. Sure he still remembers and mourns him around the anniversary of his death, and talking about Viktor (and Yvette) is still a sore spot for him, but as they say, you don’t really forget your first love. Also, he has fixed his relationship with Azami (thus their decision to have the twins) by the time of the main story and they’re at their best right now and I’ll explain more in details below the cut.

I’ll put it under the cut because it’s going to be a long one as I try to summarize Takashi’s and Azami’s history together and some additional lore stuff for those who are interested.

For starter, his marriage to Azami was an arranged one that both of them didn’t really have any say in it and it doesn’t help that both of them didn’t even have time to properly get to know each other by the time they got married. They were also pretty young (around early to mid 20s perhaps? I don’t have my notes open right now).

It was a… politically strategic wedding that Takashi’s father and Azami’s maternal grandfather arranged.

And additional info since I don’t think I have mentioned this anywhere actually, but Azami’s maternal side of family is a Yakuza clan/family back in Japan and by establishing some kind of family relationship with the Aikawas—who focuses their businesses in the US��they hope to keep the door open for possibilities of expanding their own business abroad in the US through the Aikawas. They haven’t really done that, but it’s nice to already have and secure the connection. And vice versa for the Aikawas if they wanna do some business in Japan.

It doesn’t help that Viktor was literally Takashi’s first love and that they’ve known each other since they were kids. So, by the time of his marriage, Takashi didn’t really have enough time to kind of, let go or grow out of his feelings for his first love and he was basically getting married to a stranger.

But to think that this means that he automatically becomes an emotionally distant husband and father is wrong. He spent time talking and hanging out with Azami (mostly initiating them first because Azami is the more introverted and reserved one in their relationship), trying to build a relationship—that should’ve been built naturally in normal marriages—with his wife. It did end up being more like a platonic relationship at first than a romantic one, but still, Azami appreciated that.

He’s also a good, caring, and warm dad for Rin and he did take care of Rin as much as Azami did. I’ve said this before in another ask, but when she got married to what is basically a stranger, Azami expected the worse and Takashi was a very pleasant surprise for her.

I think along the way, Azami fell in love with him for real first, but the fact that Takashi still saw her more of a platonic partner and still had romantic feelings for Viktor at the time… It did put a strain on their marriage.

But both of them didn’t really give up on their marriage and even though it took years, they slowly work on their relationship. It was not an instant progress but over time, Takashi ends up falling in love with Azami as well and that’s also the reason why they had the twins like more than a decade after they had Rin (The twins are still very young in the story right now).

Rin was born because of both of their families’ pressure and expectation, but having the twins is the decision that Takashi and Azami made themselves out of love.

While his feelings for Viktor is still there somewhere in the background, it’s waay weaker and fainter than when he was younger. Right now in the story, I would say he has moved on, although he still remembers his first love occasionally, especially around the time of his death. After all, they say that you can’t really forget your first love.

But yeah, in the story currently, his relationship with his wife is at its best and he’s living happily with his family.

And while a part of his motivation to get Rin to marry MC is in part to kind of fulfilling an impossible dream of his, it is also just for… practical reasons. The fact is that the Aikawas have a little bit more to gain by tying the Morozovs in an alliance based on blood ties than the Morozovs do. The Morozovs have the stronger manpower and raw force/strength and nowadays, they have decent connections too.

I mentioned this before in the past ask about the two families’ history, but their alliance started out because the Aikawas were having a pretty rough time protecting their turf from the other criminal groups and families back in New York. They mostly have power by accumulating and brokering information and connections, but they’re a bit lacking in like raw force and power, and that’s where Grandpa Morozov saw the opportunity for alliance and went to talk with Takashi’s father. And the rest we know how it plays out.

So, yeah… I think that’s all I have to say in this post and I’ll definitely be referring to this post again if I ever get similar asks. I don’t know whether it helps you understand Takashi a little bit more or not, but I do hope it’s not as black and white as it once was 😅

[satanslittleyogi]

Starter for the amazing @mothvalentino ♡

The forces of the cosmos had led the winged demon to take a leap of faith and leave his comfortable, sleepy, city of Sloth in search of bright new opportunities. By listening to the stars and trusting in the ebb and flow of the universe, Yogirt had been handed a dream come true: working alongside Valentino, a powerful overlord, in his capacity as a mindfulness expert, spiritual advisor, anger management counsellor and general bringer of good vibes~ Despite the scarce lack of time he’d spent in Pentagram city thus far, he knew plenty about Valentino: the seductive, ruby-hued, stare of the sinner gazed down upon Pentagram City from endless billboards. The moth sinner was well-respected and much lusted after, being the head of an award winning porn studio. After accepting the job from a television-looking gentleman who needed an intense massage and some camomile tea, Yogirt had done some internet sleuthing, checking the essentials such as his birth chart and astrological sign in order to get a preliminary understanding of the man. The agreement was that he would arrive at the Vee’s tower on a day where the porn director wasn’t neck deep in shoots so that he could spend a little time getting to know him, and how best to serve his needs. Yogirt was genuinely filled with excitement that morning, he loooooved meeting new people~ He was intrigued to get to meet the glamorous man that he’d heard so many sinners gush openly about both in person and online.

The soft fluttering sound of Yogirt’s wings filled the corridor as he floated about an inch off the floor, moving beside an uptight suit-clad sinner. The poor thing’s shoulders looked like they were carrying the weight of the world. “Listen, I tooootally get it~ The spreadsheets, the deadlines, the never-ending meetings—it’s like a hamster wheel for the soul,” his tone was a lazy, laid-back, purr, “…but you don’t have to run so fast. The world’s not going to stop spinning just because you take five minutes to reset.” The man, who was leading him off towards the personal quarters of the overlords, seemed to merely mutter out a non-committal agreement in an attempt to shut the bright-natured demon up. Yogirt pulled a heavy, tie-dyed, tote bag higher up his shoulder as he allowed his awe-filled gaze to take in the tower. It was stunning, if a little too modern and clinical for his liking. It was heaps nicer than the shitty apartment that he was currently sharing with a not-at-all zen housemate. The demon caught a glimpse of his reflection in a long, floor length, mirror. He was dressed semi-casually in a pair of fitted, corduroy pants and a flowing, cropped, blouse. His platform, heeled, boots would have been an unwise fashion choice if it weren’t for the fact that he floated above the floor, saving his feet any possibility of aching. There was a necklace of dark garnet crystals — a crystal designed for creativity and sex, in honour of his new boss — around his neck.

Suddenly, they were face to face with a large set of heavy double doors, which were pushed open to reveal a lounge area — and, most importantly, Valentino. Yogirt landed on his feet, the soft thud of his heels against the floor filling the room as he walked over to the moth sinner. “Valentino~” he offered a hand out for the man to shake, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. The billboards don’t hold a candle to the real thing,” he complimented with a bright, well-intentioned ease to his words, “I hope your business associate Vox explained everything?”