#he gets cut off before he can keep going
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wait.... why aren't any of the kyoto students playable 😭
#todo is the only one#this is so sad i wanted to 1v1 everyone as miwa#fie plays cursed clash#they should have added more characters to the roster !!!!#ngl if youre on the fence about buying this game just wait until its on sale instead#while it can be fun its also pretty janky in certain parts#and feels unfinished l#but !!! there are positives too#they add a bunch of slice of life scenes with characters just being silly and hanging out#get to see more interactions its fun#but i wish they were longer and they had more of them#i think ive already unlocked and watched them all#LOL theres this one when yuta and panda are talking about phone wallpapers#and they are like sensei what kinda pics do u use for your wallpaper#and satoru is like oh i used to have some really good ones#he gets cut off before he can keep going#he was def gonna bring up the waka inoue pics lmao 💀
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Lightning, water, and fire! Like forever before the plot starts. By the time the plot starts, the lightning and fire deities have been subjected to punishment by the two gods that picked them.
Oh (the fire deity) is first to be punished. They basically decide that since they're going to live for a long time, gotta set some long time goals! And they opt to be the wrath of the gods since most of the other deities are too 'soft' in their opinion. So Oh just. Smites humans. This isn't really a /good/ thing and in their defense mentally, they do it to help Ymber since he's the softest of them all. So their punishment by the gods is to be split in two, effectively halving the power of one into two. (Now they are in a male and a female body and use both male and female pronouns apart since they together make they but apart it feels weird to be they. But prior to the split they use they/them. Also the split bodies go by the names Ohiwe and Ohime.)
Fulj is the second to be punished. She falls in love with a mortal woman and that is a crime according to the gods. Mortals and immortals are not to be together and it will only bring suffering to both sides. So her punishment is her memories of the woman are stripped and her body basically broken to the point she can't remain physical all the time.
Ymber, unfortunately, is the one who blames himself for the discoveries and punishments. If he had only tried to restrain Oh more then maybe they would have chilled out and stopped before being punished. If he had only tried to persuade Fulj to not continue seeing the mortal woman so often perhaps she wouldn't have been punished. So he's just increasing the guilt on his shoulders every day that he remains unpunished since the elder gods have both laid down to rest. They can't enforce their laws anymore and none of the deities are keen on harming one another at this point. They just want to continue existing in peace.
#the daily life of a deity sucks#and then ymber falls in love with a human and is like welp this sucks and i understand fulj now#i also would have accepted the punishment for this#and fulj doesnt even remember the woman she was punished for and doesnt remember how she was before#so she is like hey ymber please just go and kiss the weird human i dont even like him but youre being mean by not kissing him#and ymber is just having the worst time of his life being encouraged by someone who used to be so happy#who he also encouraged to be happy once upon a time#also ohiwe and ohime pop up in the water city to bully ymber sometimes but its still in the way of#dude we like you please grow a spine its been a thousand years please grow a backbone and tell us to piss off#and he never tells them to piss off#also fulj has a long braid here but you cant really see it#and she loves to braid ymbers hair and he gets to braid hers when shes giggling and chatting about love#and a short while after the punishment fulj chops the braid off and ymber is like welp my friend is officially gone#and then he cuts his own hair and leaves to go develop his city alone in seclusion#and he sometimes just cuts it really short because hes still sad and soggy and thinks of fulj braiding his hair#and then she shows up one day when hes debating how long its getting and she smiles#and tells him he looks good with longer hair#so he kinda keeps it a messy short then it gets to be medium and he decides he can survive with medium but he couldnt do long again#but once again fulj is the reason for his life choices (and guilt)#also before anyone asks yes all the deities have a collar#its very important actually that they are collared its lore information thanks#and for what it matters - after oh is split both forms are just as tall#theres just two of them at half power but they are both tall
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I know this episode is framed as a custody battle for Wilson, but "the polycule is fighting and demands their boss mediate their schedule" is much funnier so that's how I've decided to watch it.
#house md#'if you all agreed on the diagnosis you wouldn't wake me up in the middle of the night'#says man talking on the phone in a noisy bar where he's trying to get his boyfriend drunk before sending him home to his girlfriend#see also 'youre solomon now. you can cut him in half if you really want'#there is no straight excuse for how much house knows about Wilson's sex life#also i would bet money wilson gets off on these two bickering#house likes a good fight and so does amber#the only person not enjoying this is cuddy#'keep your foreplay out if my office' is going on everyone's next performance review#even Amber's and she doesn't even work here
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dream time
#have to get this down before i forget it#been having weird/not good dreams lately until last night (mere hours ago bc its still dark out this morning)#writing this on my way to work and in the dream i was on the bus to work. however an important difference between reality and the dream is#that in the dream i was sharing my bus ride w mr larroquette. as one does#this was like mouse bites era john im sorry thats the best way i can describe how he looked#and i guess it was like we kinda knew each other?? and we ended up talking about poetry writing and stuff#wish i could remember the specifics of that#at some point we got off the bus and got onto another one unfortunately a common theme in my dreams is going somewhere in a complicated way#and on that bus ride i sat next to him again and he was like oh i normally listen to music for this part of my trip#and i was like ope don't wanna keep you from that! but he didnt mind talking for a bit more and we talked abt music#bc apparently id recommended he listen to the album big world by joe jackson and he said he didn't like it on first listen but hed try again#when we got off this bus and were walkin to where i worked (i guess he worked around there too???)#we went back to talking abt writing and i was talking abt my old poetry writing class and the kind of things i wrote#and he expressed an interest in reading those old poems and i was like oh ok i guess ill look for em#but i was thinking to myself noooo those arent good i wrote those in high school you dont wanna read themmm#and then it became like hard to get down the street bc people were moving slow on the sidewalk (classic new york moment)#so we went out into the street to like cut around#and there was some truck like causing things to get backed up#and so john started like yelling at the truck driver to move out of there LMAO#and i think thats all i remember w him. but i just remember talking w him was very calming and comforting#come on man. what are you doing in my dreams#later in my dream i just remember telling people about this so im telling you all now#anyway .
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little peek at somethjing i am cooking up ...
#this is rlly rough but rn im just blocking everything out#i have like 6.5 pages sketched so far this is already going faster than last time i think..^_^#im having a blast also#im tryna rewire my brain . every time i think Blehhh i hate drawing i just want to see it done i gotta stop n correct myself#like Hey wait you actually love drawing why are you telling yourself this The process is frustrating sometimes but that comes with art#i had to redraw this one page like 4 separate times and i still didn't feel like giving up#like yeah i was feeling pressed but at the same time i was being patient with myself#like this is part of improving Stop laying on the floor and wondering why you're even doin this you've always loved it#only drawing when u know it's gonna turn out good defeats the whole purpose of learning#also i added cal last minute to this comic and im gladi did he's so creeepy#im very excited to get this done Not impatient like i was before#im impatient for people to see it yeah lol but not w myself#and im not gonna be all like “yeah we'll see how long this lasts lol” bc i think that's already setting myself up for burning out#i have hope that i can keep enjoying art like this I just need to change the way i think#and accept the messy n ugly. the perfect is the enemy of the good#aaron blaise really inspires me. he sincerely loves what he does and i want to be like that#this is also gonna be more comic-like Panelwise i think#scott pilgrim n my bro inspired me#also the way cal's face cuts off on the right makes sense in context he's peekin from behind a chair
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volo gets a flash lecture on transcendentalist philosophy in the third chapter of this fic
#the fic is meant to set up a state of affairs that lend themselves to an ongoing story later and fun oneshots in the meantime#basically he gets halfway through the villain speech but is cut off before going full manic#player knows he made the rift but doesn’t know he has the plate or that he wants to remake the world#she convinces him to at least humor the idea of helping her finish the pokédex so she can introduce him to god#while still keeping that secret plan and plate in his back pocket#bc he doesn’t know if it’s worth giving the world a chance#a Very fun place for them to be in for just random oneshots and future developments#my writing
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it's all fun and games until i start talking about the inherent existential horror that is ren's entire lifespan.
#𝟎𝟎𝟏 : 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. ◟ ooc .◝#tbd .#( i'm going to go back to working on drafts / asks but ough )#( saying ''haha yeah he's immortal'' doesn't quite cut it because he is quite literally immortal among even immortals by design )#( eternally pristine eternally regenerating eternally immune to erosion )#( i know i've talked about it plenty before but i'm brainrotting about it again it's so very horrific & it's constantly hanging over him )#( i think some of his self destructive tendencies are rooted in his fear at the prospect of living literally forever. )#( he can die but realistically it's never going to happen. )#( until the literal end of time or at least teyvat as he knows it. )#( as much as he tries to keep everyone & everything at a distance he's such a viscerally emotional person )#( can't turn it off completely can't stop getting attached to things he's guaranteed to lose. it's a vicious cycle. he can't keep anything#( there will be no reunion in the afterlife. )#( all he can do is keep moving forward. )#( all he can do is carry the memories. )#( OKAY I'M DONE I'M DONE I PROMISE BLAME MILLA FOR GETTING ME TALKING ABOUT REN POST KAZUHA PASSING AWAY OK )
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Also I'm genuinely so upset I missed the herding events this week. I would have gone up on the 4th if I had not been incapacitated by allergies. Like the one week they decide to have a show in a venue surrounded by cottonwoods and other manner of icky uckies. Sigh
#i was like. well i can swing it this weekend#and the owner of the ranch is like. well hes going to sightsee this weekend before he takes off back to europe#alas. next year mayhaps#ideally id have a puppy this time next year which would slay. idk i have to keep working for that sweet cash money#jesus i need to submit that resume#someone punch me in the morning to get me to submit that resume#since im forced to quit my job come august#like great. great!#id be taking a massive pay cut but i need a job#unforch it severely limits how much dog stuff i can do#hopefully these are all temporary arrangements yk#and i can get to working at things i actually want to pursue#i could sell hair product for a living though i think id be good at that
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sorry men it turns out i might not be a wanted man
#and i will keep waking up everyday#I'm upset that I'll never see my parents again because my stupid brother says he didn't sexually assault me#now i know they want to keep their favourite investment living in their house. they like him. he's got a good job. he went to uni.#there isn't enough space in their family for a man who sexually assaulted his sister and the man who used to be that sister.#a community or sphere which support abusers will drive away victims by enacting further abuse on them#the house i grew up in was a sphere like that#and now i cut them all off. they don't get to meet my friends. i can never send a cool weird song to my dad again.#I'm never going to watch the sunrise from my old bedroom window ever again#I'll never see the cats again. the last time they saw me they were scared. i wish i could've kissed them once more#it wasn't like i spoke to my family very often after i moved out and before all this. i kept a lot of it to myself.#i have a life without them. a nice life i think. i don't regret standing up for myself and talking about the assault#and I'm doing nothing wrong by telling people what a massive piece of shit my brother is and for demanding answers from him#I lost a lot of things in the process#i was sorting through all my life possessions for two weeks straight and barely kept any of it#like including school books from childhood. most of them binned. if i don't need it I'm not leaving it for my mum to faun over#she hates me. hates hates. her eyes are mean#she hates me as if I'm some daughter who cheated by being a man.#but I'm out now. it's over. my life begins. i hope i don't get sick. i worry about money.#i was gonna say i worry about being cringe in a city where reputation matters but like. IM NOT POSTING IRL DRAMA ON REDDIT. I THINK I'M OK
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i had a wild fox run right up to me the other day and maybe try to steal my cigarettes
#i was deliriously tired at the smoking area at break listening to a guy vent to me about his divorce#and he’s like bearing his whole soul just letting it all out and it’s very personal#when out of the corner of my eye I see a fox creeping across the lawn behind him#so without thinking i cut him off and say ‘there’s a fox’ and he stops and looks and is like yeah there is before getting back on topic#when suddenly the wind knocks my cigarettes off the table and they go flying#the fox sees this and must’ve thought they were food or something because it comes just charging towards them#so my buddy is very quick to snatch them off the ground before the fox can get to them but that does not stop the fox#maybe it didn’t want it to be obvious that it was trying to steal from us because after the pack is picked up it keeps approaching#and trots right up to us at the picnic table. looks us up and down. and keeps walking away like nothing.#it was about a foot away from me at most. big red fox. very cute.
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Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.
"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.
It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.
"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."
"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.
Though, his words weren’t directed to you.
He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.
Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.
The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.
“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.
The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.
“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.
Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”
“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.
Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.
You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.
Gulping, “Sugu-“
“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.
Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.
It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.
With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.
“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.
You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”
“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.
Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.
And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.
“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"
Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"
"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.
You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.
He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.
"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.
You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.
On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."
"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.
"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"
"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.
The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.
"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.
That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."
Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.
There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"
Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?
Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.
The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...
Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.
And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.
Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"
Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"
Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.
Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.
Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.
Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.
"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.
"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"
(pt. 2)
#geto smut#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru#jjk geto#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#jjk suguru#sugusato#jujutsu kaisen suguru#suguru geto smut#suguru x you#jujutsu suguru#getou suguru x y/n#suguru#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#anime smut#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you smut
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pornstar!satoru who knows there are a million eyes on him, he’s seen his view counts—the whole world has seen his form. He’s cocky, loves knowing just how many people have gotten off to the sight of him.
pornstar!satoru who, despite his infamous confidence, gets nervous when you walk on set and offer him your camera-ready smile. You’re such a pretty thing, the dictionary’s definition of perfect.
pornstar!satoru who can’t help but excuse himself before the shoot, so he can was his face and sate his nerves. Locks himself away in a bathroom just to pull his phone out and google your name—and god does he like what he sees.
pornstar!satoru who is minutes away from having to be balls deep inside of you and can’t help himself from touching himself in the bathroom. scrolling endlessly on his phone, pictures of you in different positions, different little outfits, looking fucking perfect in each one.
pornstar!satoru who cums harder than he has in months, in a porn set bathroom, just to the fantasy of his hand being yours. he feels like a sex-driven teen again, hands clammy as he washes them clean from the receipt of his desperation.
pornstar!satoru who is hard again the second he steps out to find you already naked on the scene bed. your skin looks satin soft against those sheets, eyes soft and lips softer as you watch him stalk over to you. consent checks and camera placement talk goes through one ear and out the other, he can’t get his eyes off you.
pornstar!satoru who forgets he’s a pornstar the moment his hands touch that sweet body of yours. he’s completely fumbling the scene laid out, the scripted dirty talk is forgotten the second his lips open. the only reason cameras aren’t cut is because the filth that leaves his mouth instead is more pornographic than the scene at hand.
pornstar!satoru who presses you down into the mattress in a mean mating press when he’s supposed to have you face down ass up. who would he be to deny himself a long look into those pretty eyes of yours? no way is he losing this opportunity for a paycheck he doesn’t really need.
pornstar!satoru who loses his curated pornstar persona the minute he bottoms out inside of you. his usual moans and groans are replaced with desperate whines of real pleasure. this is sex, he’s a mess of need and want and sweat and god do you look good stuffed full of his cock. he can tell you’re feeling it too, that something else, that electric eroticism that gets lost when you fuck for a living.
pornstar!satoru who can’t stop wondering what you’d look like pinned down in his own bed, away from the harsh light and prying eyes of the production crew. who has such a visceral feeling of dread knowing how many people are going to see you like this, fucked out and cockdrunk by his doing. it’s possession, a need to keep you to himself, sequester you away for his eyes only.
pornstar!satoru who cums ropes way too quickly. he’s usually good at holding his orgasm at bay for long enough to make a porno, but your pussy clenched around his cock was too much, your nails in the corded muscle of his biceps, your lips against his, your body in his fucking vicinity? he can’t help it.
pornstar!satoru who, after filming, invites you back to his for a drink or three, and gets swiftly rejected when you bat your pretty lashes at him and mention your boyfriend waiting for you at home.
pt 2!
#jjk smut#satoru gojo#satoru gojo smut#gojo smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#satoru gojo x you#jjk gojo#pstar satoru#pstarsatoru
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Just thoughts of Toji being the most clingy, obsessed, bear boyfriend ever. You could be getting up from the couch to go get something to snack on from the kitchen and he'll hum and click his tongue like that's a no no, not even looking up at you when you stand, as he asks "where are you going?" in his deep voice. It makes you sit down again, but if he feels you're even an inch off from where you sat before, he'll fix that so quickly, bringing you right back to where you were, thigh to thigh with him.
Even when you're sleeping he likes to keep you attached to him. He either tangles his legs with yours or puts his leg over your hip when he's spooning you. If you're sleeping facing him, he keeps a hand on your back and digs his palm in so that you're pressed as close as you can comfortably be against him.
Oh, but mornings are a task and a half with him. It's hard enough to escape his arms because when you do manage to get out, he catches you by the hem of your shirt, not caring if it gets stretched out, and pulls you right back into his arms and doubles down on strapping you tightly in his hold by wrapping his forearm around your bare waist and keeping one of your legs locked between his. He grunts when you successfully escape, and roll out of bed. He's squinting, barely opening his sleep ridden eyes to look at you, yet he's dead set on luring you back into bed with him. He taps his hand on the space directly in front of him and mumbles a low "Come back" that brings you back, even if it made you roll your eyes. If you don't get back into bed, he follows you around all grumpy and groggy. Rests his chin in his palm all sleepy as he sits down and watches you make breakfast.
Speaking of food, he will not get out of the way when you're cooking. He's that attached to you. You're cutting vegetables and he has his arms wrapped around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head. If you cut yourself because you're trying to move too fast, he's dragging you over to the kitchen sink to rinse off the cut and wrapping your finger in a paper towel just for the time it takes him to run to the bathroom and get a bandaid. Will mumble into your ear, telling you to slow down when you start rushing your chopping again. Hums into your neck as you put all the prepped ingredients into a big pot. He ignores the stressed sighs you let out as you try to jump from space to space with him latched onto your back. King of "can I try it?" You tell him no and every five minutes he goes "can I try it now?" "How about now?" "Smells good. Now?"
Small NSFW section
During sex, he likes getting all the skin to skin he can get with you. Doggy style? He's leaning his body over your back and holding onto your tits as he rams into you. You're riding him? He has his hands on your hips, his forearms resting on your thighs. During missionary, he runs his hands all over your body, but since he wants to look at you as you lose your mind over how he fucks you, he refrains from leaning into you unless it's for the purpose of kissing or marking up your body. Loves prone bone because he gets to weigh you down and slowly make love to you while whispering sweet nothings into your ear in that honey-like voice.
Yeah... just Toji being a suffocating, clingy bear.
#toji#toji x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#toji fushiguro x reader#jujutsu toji#toji x y/n#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#jjk toji#toji fluff#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader
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Also I may be cranky but I find it insanely frustrating that day 2 of getting billy, I told my parents how to take care of her and then they totally ignored me once I was out of the house.
And Then today I started feeding dust in the hall outside of her room to start the Jackson galaxy introduction method, and my mom came out of her room 10 minutes later to be like "I don't think it's a good idea to put his food there, you should have them eat separate" (NOT how the JG method, which I explained to her, works) because her room is within eyesight of Billy's door, so now when the dogs try to steal dusts food, she can actually See them doing that and feels obligated to stop them.
Even though no matter where I put his bowl, if either dog can reach it, they will steal from it. and they Do that every day. And I'm the only one who gets onto them. Like it's an ongoing issue but it doesn't bother her that her dogs steal food, it bothers her that She has to intervene to stop it now.
#i told her i cant really feasibly move billy to any other room in the house (i could keep her in mine except my mom wont accept that#bc if i keep my door closed at night then dust will scream and that annoys her)#and she was like 'im not saying you should move billy im just saying you should feed dust somewhere else'#like literally 20 minutes before this i walked her through the JG steps to introducing cats#and then her very next request was ''can you do the complete opposite of this plan now''#its so fucking annoying like she will take 0 responsibility for her animals bad behavior and try to be like#'its all my husbands fault cuz he spoils them'' and she is totally full of shit cuz she will actively enable bad animal behavior#and especially with cats like she has never owned a cat before in her life before getting dust for me#she has No Idea how to socialize a cat (part of why dust doesnt like her very much) but for some reason she won't defer to Anybody elses#opinion on how to do it. she is like Surely these creatures that i have never understood or gotten along with will respond well#to trial by fire and blatant disrespect for their boundaries :)#whats the most annoying is i didnt even ask her to do Anything aside from feed billy when im out of the house#she doesnt have to clean the litter boxes or give her medicine or even help hold her down while i do those things#and all she fucking had to do to stop the dogs from stealing was close her own bedroom door#but noooooo she would much rather insert herself into this situation that she has no idea how to navigate#because she knows SHE doesnt have to deal with the consequences of a poorly socialized cat#i told her i was going to cut off visual contact between billy and dust and she was like 'that seems like too much'#GIRL I GOT PEED ON 3 TIMES LAST NIGHT. DID YOU???#like who the fuck does she think she is? first ignore my instructions outright and then refuse to accommodate my new plan after her idea#clearly failed
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four
The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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Don't hide this in the tags, omg!!
#I'm going to be annoying and say it depends on the theme of the episode. it depends what 'looking back' means within the context of#the spn mythos#which they would establish by talking to the still alive orpheus. who would be a white guy in a suit.#GOD an orpheus ep would be SO good#even with the covid and budget restraints like picture this:#we open and keep cutting back to Dean in the empty walking in the dark monologuing to Castiel#and we don't see Cas bc Dean is facing away from him and Dean doesn't even know if he's there bc he doesn't speak#explaining to him what's happening and what happened and - most importantly - how Dean feels#and we cut between Dean slowly breaking down into deeper and deeper topics the longer they walk#like starts off usual false-cheery trying to make the best of things Dean and then gets into#why he doesn't feel good enough for cas. why he loves him. how he breaks whenever cas dies. blah blah blah you know the good stuff.#and it's intercut with Sam (and Jack?) talking to Orpheus and maybe Charon or Persephone to establish context for what happens to Dean#and they have a fun and tense little side quest to convince them to let Dean and Cas out#and near the end of the episode. we're with Dean and he's like. 'i wish you'd just say something Cas.'#and then just before the commercial break he starts to hear. 'Dean.'#and Dean is like. I can't turn around. and Cas starts making pained noises and begging Dean to stop and it's all dialogue from other eps.#and dean is like. TREMBLING with the effort of not turning#intercut with dialogue from Orpheus telling Sam that the Empty tried to fool him with Erudice's voice. or at least. he hopes it was a trick#Dean is finally almost at the exit and he's like 'see cas just a bit further!!!!'#and Cas. has gone completely silent. Dean can't even hear footsteps behind him anymore.#and Dean is like. talking now pretty much just to himself.#'I need to have faith that you'll be there for me. because I may not believe in much but I believe in us. I believe in you.#'and you make me believe in me.'#(a little cheesy but fully sincere as most spn dramatic speeches are)#so he gets through. covers his eyes. waits for 10 seconds for cas to definitely have time to come through (a lesson from orpheus perhaps)#and the last thing we see is Dean pulling his hand away from his eyes and a beautiful look of relief. a single joyful man tear.#roll credits#<- PREV#OMG#Can you just apply to be the writer for this episode??? PLEASE???
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