#i was STRESSED reading these books i tell you

[bellfilmz]

Out Of Your League

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Season1!rafe x shy!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which rafe and reader are partnered for a school project and reader is convinced it's a sick joke.

Or

In which rafe Cameron has a crush on his smart shy partner and sees this as a chance to pursue her.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

⸻

Masterlist

⸻

The worst part about Rafe Cameron wasn’t that he was suddenly everywhere.

It was that you were starting to like it.

Despite your best efforts to ignore him, he kept finding ways to insert himself into your world—walking with you between classes, conveniently sitting near you during lectures, and even showing up at the library whenever you had study sessions. You told yourself it was annoying, that he was just playing some game, but deep down…

You weren’t sure you wanted him to stop.

⸻

It had been two days since your last tense encounter in the library.

Now, you were sitting at your usual spot in the café near campus, textbook open in front of you. The goal was to get some reading done in peace, but of course, fate had other plans.

“Mind if I sit?”

You nearly jumped, looking up to see Rafe standing over you. His usual smirk was absent, replaced with something softer—something unreadable.

You hesitated. “You know, you always ask that, but you never wait for an answer.”

Rafe grinned, sliding into the seat across from you like he belonged there. “I like to be consistent.”

You sighed, pretending to focus on your book, but his presence made it impossible to concentrate.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

“Just checking in.” His gaze flickered to your untouched coffee. “You seem stressed.”

You rolled your eyes. “I wonder why.”

He chuckled, leaning forward. “Come on, smart girl. You can admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you like having me around.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rafe tilted his head, studying you. “You keep telling yourself that.”

Silence stretched between you, filled only by the hum of conversations and clinking cups.

Then, in a quieter voice, Rafe added, “I’m not messing with you.”

Your breath hitched.

Rafe never said things like that—not outright. He was always teasing, always pushing, but this… this was different.

And it scared you.

You shut your book abruptly and stood. “I should go.”

But before you could step away, Rafe reached out, fingers brushing against yours.

“Don’t run from me,” he murmured, eyes locked onto yours. “Not when we’re this close.”

Your heart pounded. You wanted to pull away, wanted to tell him he was wrong.

But the truth was, you weren’t sure you wanted to run anymore.

⸻

The Next Day

You thought maybe—just maybe—Rafe would drop it after the café incident.

You were wrong.

Instead, he doubled down.

When you arrived at school, Rafe was waiting by your locker like it was his locker, leaning against it like he had nowhere else to be.

“Morning, smart girl,” he greeted, flashing you that signature smirk.

You sighed, unlocking your locker. “Do you ever give up?”

“Not when I see something I want.”

You froze for a fraction of a second before quickly masking your reaction. “You don’t even know what you want.”

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, and before you could react, he leaned in—his lips dangerously close to your ear.

“You’d be surprised.”

You turned to glare at him, but it only made him grin wider.

Before you could respond, footsteps approached.

“Hey, reader!”

You glanced up to see Jake approaching, completely oblivious to the way Rafe was practically caging you in against your locker.

Rafe’s smirk instantly disappeared. His entire demeanor shifted—shoulders tensing, jaw clenching, eyes darkening.

Jake hesitated when he noticed Rafe. “Uh… am I interrupting something?”

You stepped away from Rafe so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet. “Nope! Not at all.”

Rafe wasn't happy about that.

Jake nodded, but his eyes flickered back to Rafe, who was still staring him down like he wanted to throw him across the hall.

“Right… so, are we still on for studying today?” Jake asked, directing the question at you.

You barely had time to open your mouth before Rafe spoke first.

“No, she’s busy.”

Both you and Jake turned to stare at Rafe.

“Excuse me?” you asked, crossing your arms.

Rafe didn’t even look at you. His eyes stayed locked onto Jake’s, his expression unreadable. “She’s studying with me today.”

You scoffed. “Oh, am I?”

Rafe finally turned to face you, an amused glint in his eye. “Yeah. You are.”

Jake shifted uncomfortably. “If you’ve got plans, we can reschedule—”

“No, we don’t have plans,” you interjected quickly. “Jake, I’ll meet you at the library later, okay?”

Jake nodded but didn’t seem convinced. He threw one last glance at Rafe before walking away.

The second he was gone, you turned on Rafe. “What the hell was that?”

Rafe shrugged. “What? I tried to do you a favor.”

“A favor?” You gaped at him. “You don’t just get to decide my schedule, Rafe!”

He smirked, leaning against your locker again. “Well, maybe if you stopped pretending you weren’t into me, I wouldn’t have to.”

Your face heated. “I’m not—”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

You clenched your jaw. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you’re mad,” he quipped.

"Okay, lets make some things clear. If you want my attention maybe take a different approach because this isn't working."

You slammed your locker shut and storming off before he could get another word in.

But even as you walked away, you could feel his gaze burning into your back.

And you hated that you liked it.

⸻

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐱

⸻

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @angelicameron @rafecqmeronslove @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @jujubeaz @heartzfromluna @redlipstickgirlx @aurorakalogeras @drewstarkeysrightarm @jujubeaz @stelleduarte @itsamusical4life @stoned-writer @rrosiitas @akobx @lynoriax

[c4tluver02]

basketball practice

wc: 2k

summary: You watch Steve during his basketball practice and something happens between him and Billy. The interaction messes with him but thankfully you're here to pull him out of it.

warnings: none!

On Fridays Steve had basketball practice after school. Now did you need to stay throughout his whole practice? No, you definitely could have a friend drive you home instead of Steve, but it was always more than that. You knew that Steve liked you being there. Normally you are just doing homework or reading a book, but sometimes when Steve looks up at you there you are smiling at him with big eyes. Or when he can tell that you're really into the game and hear your little cheers when he makes a shot. Sometimes Steve wonders why you’d stay somewhere that has you sit for an hour doing nothing when you could be at home? But asking that would risk an answer that he might not want to hear so he decides that he should just take your big smile and cheer as they are. 

This Friday was no different, Steve got out of class and talked straight for the locker room knowing he would see you in the gym. He likes this little routine you guys have. He gets ready and walks out to you waiting for him. Despite just seeing you a few hours ago at lunch he runs up to you and greets you with a big hug that lifts you up a little. You giggle at the action and wrap your arms around his neck. He lets you down and gives your temple a kiss. 

“Hi baby, how’d your test go?” Steve asks as he leans his head back a little, loving the feeling of you scratching his head. 

“I think it went well, I definitely wrote a lot so hopefully he gives points for putting something on the page.” You respond with a small smile, letting your arms down from around his neck to hold his hands. 

“I’m sure you did great, you always stress about it and then get a good grade. Plus Mr. Hill is like a thousand years old. I doubt he actually reads them; he just wants something to say that you guys did work.” Steve responds rolling his eyes playfully

You smirk at Steve's comment, he thinks so highly of you and it makes a blush creep up to your cheeks whenever he lets you know it. 

“Steve! C’mon enough chatting, more playing!” The team leader yells for him. 

A sigh comes out if Steve immediately, not wanting to end the conversation with you. Luckily Steve will have all of the ride home to talk to you about your day. You let out a soft giggle and give him a quick goodbye kiss before he runs to his group. You walk to the bleachers and take a seat while watching the group of boys. There's been a new student for the last few games which has definitely helped the team. Steve told you his name was Billy and he didn’t know much about him.

As the game goes on you decide to get your homework done. It’s nice that this gives you a reason to do it otherwise you’d procrastinate. Lost in the writing of your work you hear a thud which makes you look up. Your eyes widen as you notice Steve is the one on the ground and you can tell it hurts by the pained face he has on. Billy then comes up to him and gives his hand to help Steve up. But when Billy says something and pushes Steve's hand back to him your jaw drops. He walks over Steve's body as he lays there out of breath and in a newfound pain. A whistle makes you take your eyes off Steve as the captain says practice is over. You try your best to run down the bleachers as Steve gets up with a hand on his back. 

“What the hell just happened?” You say with a tone that is an octave higher than normal.

“Nothing, I just tripped.” Steve says as he takes continuous fast breaths. Too embarrassed of what just happened to discuss it further. 

“What did Billy say to you? Why didn’t he help you up?” You continue regardless of his quick undescriptive answer. 

Steve goes to the bleachers to sit and drinks his water. “Nothing important. He’s just a dick. You ready to go?” He’s trying to come off nonchalant but his voice is laced with irritation. 

“Yeah, uh, let me just get my bag.” You are confused. How did Steve fall, was he pushed? Why wouldn't he tell you what happened?

Steve wipes his face with a towel and puts his hand out for you to grab once you are on the last few steps of the bleachers. 

You turn your head to see Billy looking at you with a smirk on his face. Steve opens the door for you and you walk through it letting go of Billy's deep stare. He makes you feel deeply uncomfortable and you would bring it up to Steve but you don't need another thing for him to get mad at. 

Once you two get in the car you decide to ask a different question. Steve normally stays to shower but he didn't. You wonder if it’s the pain of his fall that changed his routine. 

“Are you okay? I didn’t see you fall but it looked painful.” You say with a quiet voice. Your hand is still intertwined with his and you're drawing little circles on the skin below his thumb. 

'I'm fine, did you want me to drop you off at your place?’ Now you're starting to get stressed, you always go to Steve’s after his games. 

“I mean I would rather go to yours but if you want to you can.” You say it so softly, like you’re scared of what he’ll say. 

You let go of his hand, the thoughts now flooding in your head. He probably wants to be alone and you asking all these questions obviously isn't helping him. This is the first time Steve actually looks at you and you're looking out the window, your body fully turned away from him. He doesn’t mean to come off cold especially when you didn't even do anything wrong in the first place. 

A sigh comes out of Steve- “Baby i'm sorry I shouldn't be acting like this towards you.” He picks your hand back up and gives your knuckles a kiss. “We can go to my place, okay?” 

When you look back at him with the saddest eyes Steve feels like he should do more than just hold your hand but he is driving and you're still not sitting towards him. “Okay.” You say in a meekly tone. 

You reach Steve's driveway and he puts the car in park. Once you both get out Steve grabs onto your arm and his hand slides down to your own. “Do you wanna make a snack and I'll go shower? We can watch a movie when I'm done?” 

Now Steve is the one with the soft tone. Both of you are in fragile moods and Steve knows it's all his fault. “Yeah, okay. Like some sandwiches?” You ask, your hand not exactly reaching to grab his back. 

“Perfect, yeah! I'll be quick okay?” He gives your cheek a kiss as he opens the front door for you both. You close the door and Steve is quick to take off his shoes and run up the stairs. 

As you make the sandwiches you think about bringing up the topic again with Steve. You’d hope that he would feel comfortable telling you things even if some douche said something rude to him. That his ego shouldn’t even be worried when it comes to you, always making sure he feels the best he can. You're at the point of your relationship with Steve that he could do anything and you wouldn't think any less of him or any differently. Yet here you two are, uncommunicative because of something some newbie said to him. 

Steve comes into the kitchen while humming, the shower somehow clearing his mood. You however have just been sitting here thinking a million thoughts digging yourself into a deeper hole. 

“Thank you for the food honey.” He gives your head a kiss as he grabs his plate. 

“Mhm.” You don’t even turn to look at him, stuck in your stance still zoned out within your mind. 

This isn't missed on Steve, he turns around and stops walking towards the living room. “What's wrong angel?” 

“Steve, why are you talking to me about what happened?” You ask, fulling letting your feelings be known. Bringing up a topic he was apparently already over with, it no longer plaguing his mind. 

“Because it’s just not important angel, okay? I fell, Billy said some stupid shit and it was over.” He says it so quick and matter-of-factly you almost believe him. 

“But he obviously said something rude and he walked over you. Literally stepping over your body when he had his hand out to help you up. It would be normal to be upset about it.” You wish he would just come out and say it embarrassed him. Then you could make him feel better and shower him with compliments that he truly deserves. 

Steve sets his plate down and sits in a stool that rests near the counter. Letting out a sigh knowing this is now a conversation he’s not getting out of.

“Billy told me I should  plant my feet okay? That's it. Some half-ass excuse of advice as to why I fell.” You can tell talking about it is bringing the anger right back to Steve. 

“It’s okay to say you're upset about this Steve. That's why I am dragging this all back up. You can tell me if something made you feel bad. You don’t need to act like nothing ever bothers you.” 

Steve looks at you with wide eyes. Of course you can read him like the back of your hand. He guesses he should know that by now. Hiding his feelings does feel silly now that you call him out for it. But to just move on and pretend it didn't happen felt safer to Steve. But regardless of how he feels, you were right. He should tell you how he feels because if there's one thing he knows it's that you wouldn't judge him ever. 

“Billy pushed me so that he could make the point. He literally told me advice on how not to fall when he's the one that pushed me down. And he’s not even a fair player. I don't know how they haven't kicked him out yet. ” Steve finally lets it all out. His voice rising higher and brows pinching together. 

“He’s awful, could you tell Jason to kick him off the team? He likes you, I'm sure he’d listen.” You’re leaning over the counter, now level with Steve. Thankful he finally opened up and told you everything. 

Steve grabs your hand playing with the rings on your fingers. “Yeah I think I might. My back is all fucked up from the fall.” 

You feel bad that Steve feels bad and if you could have fought Billy yourself you would have. To push someone else is so childish and Steve is the last person that deserves it. 

“Do you want me to massage it while we watch the movie?” You look at Steve and he finally looks at you. The heated conversation now cooling down and resolved. 

“Yes please.” He leans over the counter to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you honey.”

“No need to thank me Stevie, but you know you can talk to me about anything right? I’d never judge you or see you differently I promise.” Your hands are cupping his jaw as you rub his cheek softly. 

“I know, I love you.” He leans his head into your hand. 

“I love you too, now let's go watch our movie.” You say giving him one last kiss before walking towards the living room.

[venenna]

Love is a form of sentiment

Michael Kaiser x Reader

A/n: HEYAA ITS SATURDAY WHICH MEANS ANOTHER FIC!! Its a bit self-indulgent cuz i personally struggle with psychology, and i used my own book as source material so most info used should be correct. Maybe a bit occ but i tried my best. Also suggestive at the end. Ty @crystxlseesu for proof reading

Coming home from your first day of classes, exhaustion evident on your face, you throw your bag down pulling out your psychology book and note book.

This semester will be the death of you! There's so many terms to remember, and half of the stuff being told is nowhere to be seen in the book(probably because its been out of date for god knows how many decades).

You lock the door behind you, after doing so u make a beeline towards the dining table. Spreading all your materials on there.

You get your trusty markers and start highlighting your heart away(as if you knew what was important).

Soon enough, 15 whole pages were colored orange. And you're trying to make out the important bits, and by the looks of it you didn't know what was or wasn't important.

That's fine, absolutely fine! You'll just read everything and you'll be able to make it out for sure!

Nothing makes sense... After spending almost an hour reading your poor excuse of highlighting you still don't understand shit. And so you've given up on the book, tossing it aside.

Your new friend is your note book, surely you got something of help in there!

And.... You were wrong. Your note book had words that didn't even exist in your language, congratulations for making a whole new language! Sure there were some helpful information like the basic emotions:

Happiness (something you'd never feel again)

Anger (your new companion for studying)

Fear and (emotion that will follow into exam hall)

Sadness (a frequent visitor from now on)

Or

Factors of stress (im sure you got to know each other quite well):

Everyday life problems

Big changes in life

Frustrations and obstacles in meeting needs

Or certian personality traits as stress factor

Other than that you were left empty handed.

Now you were starting to feel frustration, nothing was making sense, your head is a mess from whole day of classes, and man your eyes were stinging... wait huh?

And before you knew it you pushed everything down from the table tears of frustration running down your cheeks. Burying your head in your elbow you let out a scream, which felt oddly liberating however you were still frustrated.

As the door clicked open to reveal your dear boyfriend, the one and only Michael Kaiser.

He was... intrigued by the state he found his lover, you, in. As he closed the door he slowly walked towards you, a sly smirk gracing his sharp features. Coming up behind you placing his hands on your shoulders he leans over you looking at the mess you made.

"Well hello to you meine liebe, you've had an eventful day im guessing?"

“Go away, im not in the mood Michael." Your voice coming out muffled.

“Oh? That wont do.” He said and you could hear the grin in his voice. He was leaning over your shoulder, hand on the table next to your notes. “Tell me, schatz. What’s bothering you?”

Slowly lifting up your head to look at him, eyes red from crying and your voice a bit hoarse from the scream you let out earlier.

"You want to listen?"

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Would i have asked if i didn't?"

And so you express to him your frustrations on psychology and how you didn't except for it to be so... difficult!

Kaiser lets out a low chuckle.

"Is that all schatz? I find psychology quite easy"

"Huh?! Are you mental?"

He just shrugs, that smug smirk plastered on his face.

"I've read a lot of books on it, i like to know how humas tick, its easy to understand really."

You stare at him dumbfounded.

You had to swallow your pride for the next words you were about to utter.

"Sit your ass down, and explain... Please?"

His smirk grew even wider(if it was even possible), he liked seeing you dependant on him.

"Well since you asked so nicely meine liebe, sure ill help you, it won't be that difficult after all."

Kaiser pushed himself from the table and walked into your shared bedroom.

After returning he put on his glasses as he pulled a chair next to you.

"Here's how it goes schatz.."

He started explaining the concept of emotions with such ease, and you understood every word. And you had to admit he looked good while doing it, legs crossed as he scanned over your material with such grace. And he continued to explain to you in detail everything you need to know, but made fun of you not understanding in the first place. He is an ass...but he is your ass.

There were still some stuff you didn't understand, but most of it made sense now after he explained.

"See what did i tell you? Its simple." He smirked while twirling some of your hair around his finger. Damn him! He knew what he was doing!

"Thanks Mihya..." A mischievous idea popped up in your fried brain.

You stood up leaning towards him and playing with collar of his shirt.

"Thanks for your help, maybe i could offer something in return?" You said smirking at him.

Oh.... Maybe he should help you more often.

A/n2: AND THANKS TO @dimsumo FOR HELP. i hope you enjoyed!!

[kaylee68]

Part 2: Parentification, Abuse and Exploitation

Wanna start this section off by saying that despite my efforts I am absolutely going to be biased within this analysis. Not this section particularly but probably somewhere in the future.

I don’t hate Kalim or anything, but I do like Jamil a lot, if you couldn’t tell by me writing this whole thing and while I want to do my best to acknowledge his actions in book 4, which despite being understandable were still wrong, I need people reading this to know that I’m not perfect.

I will be criticising Kalim’s actions as well as Jamil’s, and I will also be providing my own theories and opinions on them, and I’ll try to be unbiased but I might still get things wrong.

I said it in the first part but I’ll say it again here that if you disagree with anything I say or if you think I was too harsh with Kalim and too lenient with Jamil then feel free to argue again so long as you’re respectful.

I’m also not a psychologist or anything, but I’m going to be discussing the potential affects of abuse so be warned that what I say might not be entirety accurate as it will be mostly based on what I find online.

I meant to add this in the last part but I forgot, so I thought I’d put it here. Sorry if it ends up sounding repetitive.

Anyway onwards.

Trigger warnings for discussions of abuse, but I think the title made that obvious.

The definition for parentification I found online described it as: When a child is forced to take on the role of a supportive adult within their family.

I think this is an aspect of Jamil’s childhood that is severely overlooked, granted I haven’t been in this fandom for very long, but I hardly see anyone acknowledge it, or how damaging it is.

Of course Kalim and him aren’t family so maybe Adultification would fit the situation better? But I thought the gist was still the same.

From a very young age Jamil was forced into a caretaker role for Kalim. He performed a lot of the practical responsibilities such as cooking and cleaning. And he mentions getting scolded for being too young to use the stove at some point so we know he was performing these tasks at an age where they weren’t appropriate.

He is also expected by his parents to mature a lot faster than he should be. We see this in his backstory, when they tell him to downplay his own skill for Kalim’s sake. Which as a result leads to Jamil repressing his own emotional needs which then ends up heavily affecting his mental state throughout the game.

Parentification has many lasting effects, things like: anxiety, low self esteem, increased likelihood of risky behaviors. It can also lead to struggles with setting boundaries as well as emotional regulation.

All traits that can be applied to Jamil in my opinion.

It is mentioned by several other characters that Jamil is constantly stressed and anxious and we see during the firelit sky event when with Najma that he is extremely sensitive to criticism.

Apparently as a child she called his singing bad and Jamil spent years trying to prove her wrong despite the fact that she had already forgotten about the conversation.

I think increased likelihood of risky behaviour speaks for itself when you consider how bad the consequences could’ve been after book 4 for him and his family if Azul had actually been live streaming.

Parentification itself is a form of emotional abuse. However it is not the only way Jamil is exploited.

Being a servant to Kalim and his family leaves him in a vulnerable position and this is very much taken advantage of by the Asim’s who frequently abuse him, which again I barely ever see talked about.

Maybe because it’s not so overt as most people assume it to be? Abuse of servants in media is often depicted as violent and humiliating, and Jamil’s situation is definitely more mentally damaging over all, but either way it’s still abuse.

He is being intimidated and coerced into working since he mentions how his entire family would suffer where he to disobey Kalim.

Not to mention the Viper family living on the Asim’s property, (which heavily implies Jamil’s family don’t actually own the house) is a massive red flag as their home seems to be something that could be held over their head.

Even if it hasn’t been explicitly threatened in the English translation, I think the original dialogue mentions that Jamil disobeying could put his whole family on the streets which means there is a massive power dynamic between him and Kalim, which causes several issues when it comes to consent and boundaries.

And it’s these issues that lead to Jamil being exploited labour wise throughout the game.

Where I live Jamil’s position violates several child labour laws. Of course this is a fictional world so for all I know everything he’s doing could be perfectly legal, but his workload is still very overwhelming.

He has been forced to keep up with a full time employment alongside a full time education since he was at minimum elementary school age, and potentially even younger.

This leads to his employment often disrupting his education since Jamil is expected to act as Kalim’s full time caretaker.

We see examples of this during one of Treys vignettes where it is mentioned that Jamil had to leave his own lessons because Kalim wanted to take his flying carpet to class and ended up loosing control over it, and again during one of Ace’s vignettes while attempting to complete an assignment he is called over by Kalim and made to leave his own work behind.

There’s also the fact that Kalim regularly hosts parties and gatherings for people that he expects Jamil to plan, decorate, cook for and clean up which leaves Jamil very little free time especially if you factor in having to keep up with schoolwork/studying on top of all this.

As someone who used to act as a caretaker for their younger siblings for extended periods of time I’m telling you this shit takes a toll on your mental health. It’s exhausting.

I mean it’s no wonder that he’s stressed all the time.

Even if on their own these things could be considered small, they are all still examples of work affecting his school life, and the stress/ overwhelm of it all tends to build up over time.

Then there’s the most obvious form of abuse in Jamil being expected to poison test Kalim’s meals.

We know he’s been doing this since before he came to NRC and if you read through the vignettes I think it’s implied that this likely started when he was around 13/14.

I mean I don’t really think I have to elaborate on why having a 13 year old taste test for poison is insane.

This is also why I get so confused when I see people attempt to defend the Asim family, because this alone even without all the other stuff makes them horrible people.

Like Kalim’s dad hopefully isn’t stupid considering he runs a massive trading company. Definitely not dumb enough to think Jamil is in any way willing to do this, unlike Kalim he’s a grown adult who understands that he can leverage the power he has over Jamil’s family to make him do it anyway.

It’s also as far another thing that makes me question just how much power the Asim’s have over Jamil’s family, because surely if they were paid a liveable wage, and were free, voluntary servants they’d have left by now?

Jamil’s parents don’t seem to like their position too much? Jamil obviously doesn’t want to be there and I personally would rather take the risk of being on the streets than the risk of my child dying.

The fact that despite this the Vipers are still working there makes me think that whatever consequence Jamil and his parents are so scared of is a lot worse than just being kicked out of their home.

Of course there’s always the possibility that his parents are just assholes. I mean they are also abusing Jamil

Though we hear very little about them outside of his backstory the two scenes we do see them in speak volumes to what Jamil’s childhood with them was like.

I’ve already mentioned the parentification, but a lot of that was instigated by his parents who put the heavy burden of their delicate situation on Jamil despite him still being a child, but there’s also the fact that they do just openly hit him and call him stupid.

Both those things happen right in front of Kalim who doesn’t say anything about it and while we already know that Kalim has been very normalised to the abuse Jamil faces I think this along with Jamil’s overall treatment and how his parents act during his backstory could also hint at abuse towards servants in general within the Asim household being pretty normalised to him.

I really don’t know enough about the Vipers or their situation to say for certain why they make the choices they do. Jamil’s parents seem terrified when they scold him and I do think they genuinely love him but although they’re in a situation where they aren’t able to protect him, I feel like there’s so much more they could’ve done instead of basically telling him to just suck it up.

I also think that part of the reason that all of this rarely gets mentioned and is also frequently excused and defended is because the twst fandom in general seems to also adultify Jamil.

I mean it’s not malicious or overt but I think even small things like jokes about him being the mom friend sort of play into this idea that Jamil is more mature than he actually is which is a position that has been thrust on him his entire life.

I mean he’s 17 and he literally does not know a life outside of work. That’s incredibly depressing and also just way too much for a child.

If anything I’d argue the abuse he’s faced in childhood has stunted his development. Especially because some of his actions make him seem a lot less mature than most of the cast all things considered.

Idk this is something I feel passionate about cause it’s something I heavily relate to and I don’t want to go too in depth into this but I wonder if his race also plays a factor in this, because it is him and Leona who I often see people hating on the most. Though then again that could just be because they are my faves.

And the fact that Kalim is very infantilised within the fandom could also be a factor.

But yeah, I think that mostly brings this section to a close? I think I want to go more in depth on how the abuse and conditioning still and honestly always will affect his relationship with Kalim, but this also ended up being really long so I think I’ll leave it here.

I apologise for any spelling mistakes!

Part 1 Part 2

[a-menaceinpink]

read the green bone saga this week and i’m just saying. if you want an in-depth political fantasy mafia thriller (yes all of those words apply) set in a post colonial nation that is navigating an unsure global political position and the potential exploitation of its culturally significant resource that simultaneously explores the bonds between family and how they can take different shapes in the wake of loss and love and life, with brilliantly developed, fleshed out characters and realistic pacing (both in world and in the actual delivery of the story). i HIGHLY recommend.

[saturnaous]

I don’t like ingo and emmet at all. does anybody wanna hit them with trains together

[dideki]

university.. university leave me alone

[heavenknowsffs]

Unpopular opinion: listening to an audiobook doesn't count as reading

[sparkly-skies]

This one is titled "I needed to urgently work on a presentation* so instead**, I somehow spent my whole day doing fuck all instead and the evening listening to Laura's Buam and consequently experiencing the whole spectrum of human emotions over the span of like, four to six songs" and goes out to @mondscheinprinzessin, naturally, for dragging me into this band.

[piperamitt]

I first want to thank @thegeekylady52 for tagging me for this. Thank you!

Last song: If we count movie songs then the answer is "I'm Just Ken" from the Barbie movie. (This song is addicting).

Currently watching: A bunch of stuff, just off the top of my head there is: A rewatch of Timeless, FOP (now I'm doing this while putting a random season and episode and reading trivia on it from the wiki), technically My Adventures With Superman (whenever an episode is released or when I try to get my friends to watch it) Avatar the Last Airbender rewatch, Every Witch Way rewatch (I'm on a nostalgic spree as you can tell), and more that I chose not to write.

Currently reading: The situation here isn't much better. I mostly read fanfiction (especially about FOP and Star Wars fanfics with Bail Organa). If we want specific stuff that I'm currently in the middle of, then we have a reread of "Come What May" by FountainPenguin, and a fic called "The Beginning" by E350 on FFN. I have also decided to reread Big Nate on a Roll (now in English), the Alexander Hamilton biography by Ron Chernow, and like always I am a minute away from rereading Leia, Princess of Alderaan for the 5th time (I think... I lost count).

Current obsession: FOP (but it's always there), Kingdom Hearts, Star Wars, the new Barbie movie, My Adventures With Superman, fanfiction, and watching and reading stuff I already read. (I know it's a lot... But in my defense, Barbie was really good, I'm watching Star Wars with my friends and one of them didn't know the Empire Strikes Back reveal, MAWS is a new show and fanfiction is fanfiction).

Tagging: @orangemagicaltree @tiger-with-an-obssesion (no pressure. I just think it's right up your alley) and everyone else who sees it.

[ragnars-tooth]

i completely and absolutely hallucinated the last time i read firestar apparently bc i was ten thousand percent sure russ shot beargstrom at the end. i thought that man was so dead. so imagine my surprise rereading tfe properly rn.

(i was already too confused by whos who irt the bears last time anyway so if anything its making me feel LESS stupid that i just misread a paragraph and fucked up the entire plotline for myself <- it will happen again)

consider this a public acknowledgment that it turns out idk what the hell is happening in these books, soz <3 i will continue to lie by accident and make shit up 🥰

[bfpierce]

.

[keypostos]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[earlgreytea68]

Let me tell you, I've taken lots of vacations by myself, and I've also taken lots of vacations with other people, and by far vacationing solo is the easiest, most stress-free vacation you can imagine. There's some kind of societal stigma against this. Ignore this. Vacationing by yourself is amazing. There is zero negotiation or compromise. You do exactly what you want to do when you want to do it. You eat whatever you want to eat, whenever you want to eat it. You pursue whatever tourist attraction you want, or none at all. It is the purest release from all obligations and responsibilities. You don't need to worry about whether anyone else is walking faster than you or slower than you and you've lost them in a crowd, did they want to do something different, have you railroaded them into doing what you want to do?

And it's easier to buy solo tickets to things. It's easier to squeeze into crowded bars. Everything about it is just so incredibly relaxing. Don't let society talk you out of it. It's obviously good to socialize and have friends and family who you want to hang out with and see, etc., etc., and it's okay if traveling solo just doesn't appeal to you at all. I'm just saying, I was just on vacation with people, and I had a great time, but we were out to dinner at the hotel restaurant and at the table next to us was a woman by herself having a glass of wine and eating spinach and artichoke dip for dinner while she read a novel and I was just like, honestly, I know that kind of dinner and it's so great lol. If you've ever wondered what it's like to travel solo, it's like that: dip for dinner and a glass of wine and a book lol

[fushitoru]

i don't wanna lose this with you a spiderman gojo fic

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an amalgation of misunderstandings and stress lead to a very big fight between you and satoru, but you certainly don't expect the way he wins you back.

warnings ⸺ college au, spiderman!au, angst, hurt/comfort, i warn you reader might infurate you, but she's just a woman in stem :(, tooth rotting fluff bc he's a loser for his gf, not edited sue me

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n you'll probably need to read the first installation (nsfw, so mdni) to understand this one :3

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

you've blocked gojo on all platforms.

you don't really remember what caused the "break up" (you didn't really break up). maybe it's the fact that you've been stressed about grad school admissions, your dorm's floor was covered in his boxers, and he's never been able to visit you pre-3am these days. somehow, the city's criminals are determined to keep your boyfriend away from you, and maybe it was your pms, or maybe it was truly just because satoru is annoying. regardless, it's when you guys have plans that's not an impromptu healing-gojo's-wounds-in-your-dorm-at-3am sesh and you're waiting at the coffee shop that you explode.

because he was supposed to arrive ten minutes ago, and when you move to go to the bathroom, you see him. through the window, his white hair is never not noticeable, and who you see next to him makes you falter.

he's standing next to a girl with blue tinted silver hair that you recognize as mei mei, and she's gripping his upper arm as she smiles while looking at his face, his lips with such fuck me eyes that you could tell they were having some sort of intimate conversation.

and if it were an ideal day, you would know that it's all a misunderstanding, you would know your boyfriend is someone you trust. but, again, the cards were stacked against you, and the only things that go through your mind all make your eyes all glossy. he's late to the one date that you planned because you and him were finally free at the same time and you've been busy because you've been desperately applying for internships because unlike your boyfriend you don't have a plethora of papers and coding experience and you've been getting four hours of sleep on average this week and ugh you've heard a rumor that satoru used to hook up with her and fuck now your tampon is poking at you in the wrong way—

great. now tears are fully streaming down your cheeks. in public.

as you rush to the table where your stuff is your vision is so blurry that you also almost fall flat on your face as you stumble over the legs of chairs and tables. blurting out a ensemble of choked up sorry's and excuse me's you hurriedly gather your laptop and notebooks in your backpack and book it for the exit.

the biting cold stings at your face, but you nevertheless determinedly move in the opposite direction of where satoru and mei mei are situated, praying your boyfriend doesn't recognize you. however, it seems that the heavens are working against you because you hear a yelled "baby?"

you don't look back because you know a new set of tears will leave your eyes, and with it being finals season, you're not very hydrated to being with. but you hear footsteps running towards you and fuck your boyfriend's long ass legs because he quickly catches up to you. then, he grabs your hands, attempting to stop you from running away and face him.

"baby," he breathes, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he moves to kiss your forehead. you stay silent, pinning your gaze to the ground while shivering. "where are you going? aren't we supposed to hang out right now?"

look, you and gojo have a good relationship. but recently, things have gotten...strenuous lately. you guys haven't been communicating, and it might not help that half of your calorie intake was from energy drinks. or perhaps what lead you to say what you said next was driven entirely by the brain eating mold on your unwashed dishes, but dumb excuses aside, you sneer. "shouldn't you be busy doing that with mei mei, instead?"

a small part of you--the part that knows you shouldn't be like this--feels relief that hurt doesn't immediately flash across his eyes, only confusion. but lack of sleep has not only stripped away at your sanity but also your people pleasing and overthinking tendencies, leaving you only as a girl frustrated, even irrationally angry, with her boyfriend. so you only avert your gaze when he dumbfoundedly asks, "what?"

"what do you mean, "what?"" you scoff, wrenching your hand from his grasp. "you were ten minutes late to our meet-up, gojo." it is at your use of his last name, instead of your sweet my love, that the hurt you've been looking for flashes across his eyes. he moves to speak but you cut him off, no longer wishing to be here with him. "if you're so busy talking to bitches you hooked up with before, why did you even bother saying yes to hanging out with me?"

he looks at you in confusion, eyes quickly flitting back and forth across you. then, slowly, as if he's still processing the weight of your accusations, he says, "i don't exactly know what you're referring to, but let's calm down---"

and you see red.

"calm down?" you snap, voice sharp and icy, just like the wind stinging your cheeks. "did you seriously just tell me to calm down? you were late again, gojo, and i find you chatting it up with her?" you practically spit the word, arms crossing as a flimsy defense against both the cold and the ache building in your chest.

satoru blinks, his confusion genuine, but you’re too far gone to care. "wait—mei mei? is this about mei mei? she's not—"

"don’t you dare finish that sentence," you cut him off, your voice rising as your blood boils hotter. "i don't want to hear how she's just a friend, or how it's not what it looks like. i’m so tired of hearing the same bullshit excuses."

"baby, you're jumping to conclusions—"

"and you’re jumping at the chance to look like an idiot in public," you snap, your hands trembling now, either from the cold or your rising fury. "god, what do you even say to her? let me guess, you go around telling girls you're spider-man to get into their pants, huh? bet that works like a charm."

the accusation hits like a slap, and for the first time, satoru looks genuinely stunned, his mouth falling open slightly. "what the hell are you even saying right now?"

"am i wrong?" you let out a bitter laugh, one that echoes in the frosty air. "you’re late to the one date i actually planned, and i see you with her, all cozy, like i’m not even waiting for you. like i don’t even matter."

his eyebrows knit together, frustration mixing with something softer. "you seriously think i’d—"

"i don’t know what to think anymore, satoru!" the words burst out of you, your voice cracking as hot tears well in your eyes. "all i know is that i can’t keep feeling like this. like i’m some afterthought while you’re out doing—whatever it is you do. swinging through the city or flirting with your exes or—" you choke on the words, wiping at your cheeks furiously as the tears spill over. "just forget it. i’m done."

"wait." his voice is quieter now, more desperate as he steps toward you, his hand reaching out. "baby, come on, we can talk about this—"

"no," you say firmly, jerking your hand away before he can grab it. "i’m blocking you. on everything." then, mockingly, "you can figure out how to save the world without me."

his eyes widen, his mouth opening like he’s about to plead or argue, but you don’t wait for him to speak. you turn on your heel and storm away, the cold wind biting at your skin as the lump in your throat grows heavier.

you don’t look back. not when he calls your name, not when you hear his footsteps falter. you just keep walking.

it’s 3 a.m., and you don’t know if you exist.

well, you do, but after how light you feel after you’ve cried a disgusting amount, you just lie down on your floor staring at the ceiling and contemplating the meaning of life. or more specifically, the meaning of your life, which right now feels like it’s revolving around nothing but stress and a breakup you don’t even fully understand.

you wouldn’t be having these problems if you were a childless cat lady.

but alas, you’re just a college student. in the few days where you haven’t seen satoru, you’ve finished all your finals—miraculously, considering the fragile state of your emotional wellbeing—and now you’re finally on break in your dorm. you’re supposed to go back home in two days, but the thought of packing feels like trying to climb a mountain barefoot. you can’t summon the energy to do anything except wallow in your self-pity and selfishness, letting it wrap around you like a weighted blanket that’s somehow comforting and suffocating all at once.

you’d like to say this is rock bottom, but truthfully, it’s worse than that. because rock bottom implies a kind of finality—a place to push off from. this? this feels more like you’re sinking in quicksand, the weight of everything dragging you further down.

in your stress and impulsiveness, you’ve managed to kill your entire grind for internships. deadlines have slipped past while you spent hours doom-scrolling job boards and second-guessing every application. the ambitious, career-focused version of yourself feels like a stranger now, buried under the weight of your own doubts and insecurities. and on top of that, you may have potentially lost the love of your life.

it’s laughable, really, how thoroughly you’ve managed to self-destruct in such a short time. the worst part? you can’t even bring yourself to check your socials. if you unblock him and see there aren’t any messages, you think your heart might shatter completely. which, if you’re being honest, isn’t exactly fair to him. you’re the one who had the meltdown. you’re the one who blocked him on everything. he probably doesn’t even know what he did wrong because you didn’t even communicate anything.

your stomach twists at the thought, guilt mingling with the ever-present ache of missing him. he was supposed to be the one person who made everything feel a little less impossible, and now you’ve pushed him away.

there has got to be a taylor swift song for this.

so you make your way to your spotify account to listen to afterglow, putting in your airpods while somberly looking at the ceiling once again as the lyrics fill your ears. tears well up as soon as the lyrics start

i blew things out of proportion, now you're blue⸻

tears well up before you can stop them, hot and heavy as they trail down your cheeks. god, you’re a mess. and yet, as much as you hate it, you can’t seem to stop the flood of thoughts that follow.

you miss him. you miss the way he made you laugh even when you were on the verge of tears, the way his ridiculous confidence somehow made you feel like everything would work out. you miss how he’d stay up late just to facetime you when you were overwhelmed with schoolwork, how he always seemed to know exactly when you needed him most.

and now? now you’ve gone and ruined it. maybe he’s angry, maybe he’s hurt, or worse—maybe he’s just done with you entirely.

the thought makes your chest ache, your breaths coming in shallow and uneven as the lyrics hit their crescendo.

i need to say, hey, it’s all me, in my head—

then, suddenly the song changes. you frown as you hear early 2010's pop blast through your ears.

i threw a wish in the well, don't ask me i'll never tell⸻

why the fuck is call me maybe playing?

annoyed and rubbing at your eyes, you move the change it back to, now, the sad girl hours playlist spotify curated for your and assume your dead fish position on the floor once again.

however, it seems as if your spotify is genuinely tweaking, like it's realized it’s gotten your attention. when call me maybe starts playing again, you groan out loud and move your phone. but before you have a chance to switch the song again, it seems to switch.

baby by justin bieber.

call me, blondie.

i love you, i'm sorry, gracie abrams.

letstalkaboutit, aminé.

i don't understand but i luv you, seventeen.

please please please, sabrina carpenter.

and then, once more, as if to really drive the point home: call me maybe, carly rae jepsen.

again, it's 3am, and you're stuck in a surreal mix of grief and confusion, staring at your phone as your spotify queue seems to have gained sentience. each song feels like a pleading nudge, an unmistakable pattern forming, and your blood runs cold when you remember one very important fact.

you share a spotify account with satoru.

"carly rae jepsen," you mutter under your breath, a mix of exasperation and fondness bubbling up despite yourself. he's hijacking your queue. right in the middle of your emo songs.

you sit up abruptly, tossing your airpods onto the bed, and hover over the call button on your phone. there’s a split second of hesitation—your pride battling with your longing—before you give in and press it.

the line rings twice before his voice comes through, breathless, like he’s been pacing. "baby?"

the sound of his voice sends a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, sharp and raw like an open wound. the sound of his voice makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, equal parts relief and guilt. "satoru," you say, barely above a whisper. "why are you messing with our spotify?"

"why am i messing with our spotify?" he echoes, his tone incredulous. "why did you block me on literally everything? what was i supposed to do—send you a letter by carrier pigeon?"

you wince at the edge in his voice, your earlier anger wilting under the weight of his hurt. "i… i don’t know," you admit, the words tumbling out before you can catch them. "i was upset, and i wasn’t thinking straight. i shouldn’t have done that."

"yeah, you shouldn’t have," he says, still sounding a little indignant, though there’s something softer beneath it now. "do you know how many songs i had to go through to make my point? do you know how hard it was to resist the urge to rickroll you instead?" then, there’s a pause on his end, the line suddenly feeling too quiet. then he sighs, his voice softening into something that feels too much like an apology. "i didn’t know what else to do. i hate not talking to you. i hate knowing i made you upset, even if i don’t entirely understand why."

you close your eyes, the lump in your throat returning with a vengeance. the silence stretches between you, thick and unbearable, until you finally break it. "i’m sorry," you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "i shouldn’t have blown up at you like that.” and now that the dam has been broken, it all comes rushing out as you start choking up. “i’ve just been so stressed, and i’ve been missing you and then i saw you with her and then got irrationally angry when i really should’ve trusted you and oh my god i’m like a possessive tradwife husband that doesn’t let you leave the farm i’m sorry and i didn’t even communicate before i blew up at you like that—”

"hey. hey, hey, it’s okay," he says immediately, his tone filled with an earnestness that makes your chest tighten. "i know things have been hard for you. i should’ve been better, too. more present. i hate that you’ve been feeling like this while i’ve been...doing spider-man things." then, he lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind that’s equal parts exasperation and playfulness. "but wasn’t fair,” and you can hear a whine in his voice, “you blocked me and then ghosted me like i’m some kind of random tinder match. do you have any idea how insane i felt when i couldn’t even check to see if you were okay? i thought you hated me."

your breath catches at his words, guilt twisting like a knife in your chest. "i don’t hate you," you say quickly, the words spilling out in a rush. "i could never hate you. i was just… stupid, and emotional, and i didn’t know how to handle everything piling up. i’m so, so sorry, satoru."

there’s a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, a little more vulnerable. "then why did you say those things? about mei mei, and… and me using the spider-man thing to get into girls’ pants."

you bite your lip, the memory of your harsh words making your throat tighten. "i didn’t mean any of it," you whisper. "i was just lashing out, and i know it wasn’t fair to you. i know you’d never do something like that, and i trust you, satoru. i just… i let my insecurities get the better of me."

"wait," he interrupts, his voice laced with amusement that shouldn’t make your heart ache the way it does. "you actually think i’d use the spider-man thing as a pickup line? that’s...wow. that’s genius. i should write that down."

"satoru!" you exclaim, half-laughing, half-crying, your emotions unraveling all over again. "i’m being serious!"

"i know, i know," he says, but you can hear the smile in his voice, warm and teasing. "and i’m being serious, too. i’d never do that to you. mei mei’s just...she tripped in front of me, i was just helping her up. i didn’t even realize how it must’ve looked, but i’ve never done anything with her. you’re it for me, okay? always."

you sniffle, wiping at your cheeks as your heart swells and aches all at once. "you mean that?"

"of course i do," he says, his voice soft and sincere in a way that makes your breath hitch. "i love you, even when you block me on everything and make me resort to spotify warfare." he sighs again, but this time it’s softer, the warmth in his voice breaking through his remaining irritation. "i’m not mad. i mean, i was mad, but mostly i was just upset. you really hurt my feelings, you know?"

the lump in your throat grows, your guilt threatening to choke you. "i know," you say, your voice cracking. "i’m so sorry, satoru. i’ll make it up to you, i promise."

"oh, you will make it up to me," he says, the teasing edge returning to his tone. "i want a week of boyfriend privileges—no complaining when i steal your fries, no making fun of my movie picks, and you’re buying me snacks for at least three of those days."

a small smile tugs at your lips despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. "deal," you say softly.

there’s a pause on his end, and then his voice comes through the line, quieter but no less sincere. "you really mean it? you’re not still mad at me?"

"i’m not mad," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "i was never really mad at you, satoru. i was mad at everything else, and i took it out on you. but i’m not mad anymore. i just… i miss you."

"i miss you too," he says, and the raw honesty in his voice---the subtle way it chokes up, as if he had been crying and missing you too---makes your chest ache. "so, can i come over? or are you going to make me keep hijacking your playlists to get your attention?"

you laugh softly, the sound tinged with relief. "just come over already, you dummy. and bring snacks. good ones."

"done," he says, his grin audible through the phone. "i’ll be there in twenty. and for the record, you owe me at least a whole playlist dedicated to how amazing i am and you sucking the absolute soul out of my dick---."

"don’t push your luck," you reply, but there’s no heat in your words, only warmth (and you’re absolutely going to suck his soul out of his cock). regardless, for the first time in days, the tightness in your chest starts to ease, replaced by something lighter, something whole.

general masterlist | spiderman!gojo m. list

a/n he's so cute :( i'll keep on writing stuff for them whether it be small fics like this or long ass fics. i think my next one is gonna be freaky if you guys are nice to this one

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