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reidmoony-toast · 2 months ago

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Strawberry Wine. ౨ৎ

"If I was empty space, and you were a formless shape we'd fit"

Spencer x fem singer!reader

The two times they miss each other, and the one time they don't

content: no use of y/n, fluff, pining galore

cw: lil suggestive? (She sings Chappell Roan)

wc: 2.4k

an: I've been cooking this up for a while, but life has been super busy, so I haven't yet finished the other parts. I'm very sorry if they take a few weeks to finish :[ Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ

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He really wished he wasn’t here. He never should have begrudgingly agreed to Penelope’s crazy plans, no matter how much she bugged him about it. This was about as far opposite to his kind of thing that you could get.

The lights were bright–unbearably so; flashing so much he feared he would have an epileptic episode (if it weren’t for the small fact that he didn’t actually have epilepsy, but he digressed).

The large room was also deafening, filled with fans, all of them buzzing in anticipation. Penelope was not an exception–she bounced up and down like a rogue ball, shrieking in excitement close to every thirty seconds. He would know. He had been counting.

Although he would rather be at the very back (if he had to choose anywhere in this wretched place), Penny had physically forced him into the very front row, only a barrier separating them from the stage.

He didn’t know and definitely didn’t want to know how Penelope had acquired such tickets and at such short notice before the show. He had found that he was better living in ignorance of the borderline illegal habits of his best friend.

He had just endured half an hour of what Penny had called the ‘openers’. He was dismayed to hear that the performance was not the actual concert; he learnt that the hard way when he had asked Penelope if they could leave, which she replied to with a cackle, stating that the band that had just exited the stage was, in fact, not the main event of the evening.

He had buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan. He only had himself to blame for being caught up in the ‘Garcia puppy eyes’ trap, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t whinge at least a little bit–or a lot bit.

He didn’t know much about this singer girl, only that Penelope was obsessed with her, bringing her up in conversation many a time. He admitted that he often didn’t fully (if at all) listen when Garcia gushed over her–he seemed to always zone out.

He had never properly heard her songs, only in passing when Penelope would blast music in her cave, and he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like.

He was mentally preparing himself for the next few gruelling hours, with Penny jumping up and down beside him, when the lights dimmed, sending the whole room into a frenzy.

He winced at the screaming and whooping coming from all around him. Smoke machines started emitting mist, covering the stage and fogging up the colourful lights. The crowd continued to roar, Penelope squealing next to him and gripping the railing of the barrier.

A figure emerged through the haze, the silhouette showing locks of hair cascading over their shoulders, clad in a silk slip dress that ended at the mid thigh, hugging their curves.

They started singing–a smooth, silky voice wrapped around him, making the room suddenly feel more bearable. He swallowed hard. The singing was beautiful. Sweet and rich, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket.

He raised his eyebrows with pleasant surprise. It was, admittedly, not bad in the slightest. He hated to say it, but he was enjoying it, a lot. More than he should, given that it was new-age pop, not the refined tones of classical music–his favourite genre by far.

All thoughts of music flew out of his head as the owner of the angelic voice stepped into the stage lights, allowing him to properly see her for the first time. His breath left his body as he took her in.

She was gorgeous, stunning–almost ethereal, as her other-worldy voice filled his cochlea, transmitting electrical signals through his nerve pathways to his primary auditory cortex.

Her hair shone in the light, giving her a halo of the highest grade, her bright lips curled into a perfect smile around her words, and her eyes shone with a million glinting stars.

He was utterly enamoured by her–every facial expression, every movement she made, every note she sang was all absorbed thoroughly by his wide eyes.

In no time at all, the first song was over, finishing with loud cheering and clapping from the audience. The angel grinned out at the sea of fans, soaking up the feeling.

Unlike Spencer, she was well and truly in her element, looking as though there was not where else in the world she would rather be.

He gazed in open-mouthed awe at the way she floated effortlessly about the stage–and, of course, that breathtaking smile that scrunched her nose and revealed the prettiest dimples he had ever seen.

He was snapped back to reality with a sharp poke in the side from Penelope, centering his gravity away from the girl on stage and back to where he stood.

“What?” He said loudly, an exasperated look adorning his face as he tore his eyes back to his best friend. She was smirking at him, arms crossed in front of herself.

“You have such a thing for her, I’m surprised you're not drooling right now,” she answered mockingly. He scoffed, dismissing her words with a wave of his hands as he faced the stage again, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. He heard Garcia laugh deeply at his half-hearted denial.

All thoughts of Penelope soon left his mind as the heaven-sent saint started to sing again, striking chords in his heart at every note.

The song came and went again, and Spencer wished they would not go by so fast, so he could see her for as long as possible.

The next song started with a more upbeat track, and the angel laughed, running back down stage, scarily close to where Spencer stood. “She was a, Playboy, Brigitte Bardot,” she started to sing, “She showed me things, I didn't know.”

She stuck out her tongue playfully, shaking her hips, making the satin fabric hugging her curves sway.

“She did it right there, out on the deck,” she bit down on her bottom lip as Spencer’s face heated, realising what the song was about. “Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck.”

She gestured with her fingers to a spot on her neck, pretending as if her fingers were the teeth, tipping her head back with imaginary ecstasy. He swallowed heavily, face hot.

“I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya,” she sang, “Mini skirt and my go-go boots,” on those lyrics, she bent over, running her free hand from her heeled boots and up her legs, jutting her ass out.

Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock. He had never felt like this from only a few minutes of meeting someone, let alone just laying his eyes on them. This was completely out of the ordinary for him, and it left him reeling.

~☆~

Songs flitted by like the butterflies in his stomach, and his gaze was permanently fixated on the captivating women centre-stage. He couldn't tear his eyes away even if he tried–and he most definitely didn't.

A new song started, fading in with a catchy guitar riff, and the crowd went wild, sparking a wide smile on the angel’s face.

The drum beat started, and she strutted down the stage, tipping her head back and shaking her smooth curls out in the dim lights before she began to sing. “Midnight,” she dragged out the end of the word.

“Come and pick me up, no headlights,” she blew a kiss to the fans in front of her, winking as she made her way down the stage towards where Spencer was situated.

Penelope grasped his arm tighter and tighter as she neared, buttery voice washing over him.

“Watch us go ‘round and ‘round each time,” she stretched out the note, rolling her head to the side, eyes landing exactly where Spencer was standing. He froze, dumbstruck, as he locked eyes with her.

He gulped heavily as a cheeky grin adorned her face, soft lips framing perfectly white teeth. She straightened up, continuing the lyrics as she floated even closer to him, never breaking eye contact.

“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye,” She knelt down on the stage in front of Spencer. His breathing stuttered as his gaze remained on her, utterly entranced.

“And I got that red lip classic thing that you like,” she dragged her thumb across her lip, singing to him through a happy, if not slightly teasing, smile.

“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” He could see her mouth curving around each syllable as she sang into the microphone, eyes still, somehow, on him.

He most definitely looked like an idiot in that moment, with his flushed cheeks and slack-jawed awe of the ethereal woman only a few feet away, but he didn't have it in himself to care.

She had seen him, and not only that, she had actually come over and sat, right there on the stage in front of him. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, she was–without question–looking, and singing, straight at him.

She leaned impossibly closer, leaving only a few inches between their two faces as she crooned the words into the microphone. His eyes flicked across the features of her face before they settled on her own.

Up close, they were mesmerising– long, thick lashes framed bright irises, sparkling with the light of the night sky– he could almost map out the constellations he knew off by heart from the incandescent twinkles in her eyes.

“You got that long hair, slicked back-” She moved her free hand to hover over the collar of Spencer's shirt, seemingly asking silent consent to touch him.

He shook out of his trance long enough to nod vigorously. She let out a short chuckle, grabbing his collar and carefully but firmly pulling him closer by his shirt. “-white T-shirt.”

His breath hitched as hers ghosted his lips with every exhale, noses almost touching, with hardly any room for the microphone as his heart raced impossibly faster.

“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” At that, she pulled away, letting go of his collar as she leaned back to run her free hand over her skirt, smirking at Spencer and his flaming-red face.

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,” she repeats, still serenading him. “'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” She finally stood, winking and blowing a kiss at a thoroughly flustered Spencer as she strutted to another part of the stage.

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe she had not only noticed him, but also sang right to him. His shirt was crumpled from where she had gripped it, but he didn't dare fix it. If possible, he would never smooth the rumpled fabric if it meant he could have a reminder of her always.

A rough shake of his shoulder brought him back to the present, Penelope standing astonished next to him, incredulous smile playing on her lips and she all but shrieked in his ear–something along the lines of, ‘You're so lucky!’ and ‘You're so down bad!’.

He didn't pay her any mind, instead keeping his still-red face on her, and her only.

She wandered to different parts of the stage during the remainder of the song, but Spencer didn't miss the more-than-occasional glances she sent his way throughout the next few songs, smile growing each time they locked eyes.

When they did, he matched her smile with his own goofy grin, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, breathing becoming erratic as he clutched the railing with white knuckles.

~☆~

All too soon, the concert came to an end, accompanied by raucous applause from the crowd. He clapped like a mad thing too, finally understanding why her fans acted the way they did.

The version of him from two hours ago would have teased him relentlessly for this, but he didn't care. It was another completely different version of him, a version that had not yet laid his eyes on her.

It certainly felt like a life-altering moment in his existence. His being was now split into ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after her.

She waved and blew kisses enthusiastically as she made her way off stage. He deduced that she would have to walk right past Spencer to get there. He pathetically hoped she would look at him one last time–prayed she cared enough to seek him out once again.

Electricity jolted through his entire body, head to toe, as she locked eyes with Spencer when he was in her direct line of sight.

She gave him a wink and a little wave, biting her lip through a larger-than-life grin; he felt giddy, hand coming up in an awkward half-wave. He silently cursed himself for the stiltedness of his actions.

She, however, didn't have such qualms as she blew him an air kiss, giggling as she turned away, skipping the rest of the way off stage. The screaming continued as the heel of her shoe disappeared behind the side-stage curtain.

He felt oddly hollow as the venue lights came back on, signalling the end of the show. He kept staring at the spot where she had last been, silently hoping she would come back out and sing again. Look at him again.

He blinked hard, finally re-orienting himself, glancing around to see a few people staring at him, whispering to themselves.

They were talking about him–about his encounter. He turned away again, ducking his head as his cheeks burned again.

As quickly as they came, the stares went again, and his eyes flicked back to the stage again. He so badly wanted to meet her, talk to her, even just lay his eyes on her again. That would be enough.

Penelope cleared her throat next to him, and he hummed in response, still not looking away. She snorted. “Come on lover boy, time to leave.”

He turned his attention to see her nod in the direction of the exit.

He gazed back at that spot once more, heaving out a melancholy sigh, before turning away, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, let's go.”

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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 - Comment to be added!

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yasmindifference · 19 days ago

Note

8 (my birthday is the 8!)

The night is unseasonably warm, barely even cool enough for long sleeves. As such, the suit jacket Jason drapes around Tim's shoulders five minutes into their walk nearly makes him roll his eyes.

He channels his reaction into a girlish giggle instead, then has to swallow a more sincere laugh when he sees how the high-pitched sound nearly cracks Jason's mask.

"You're soooo chivalrous," Tim says, unable to resist pushing that little bit further. His Valley girl impersonation puts a twitch in Jason's eye every time. "Like, swoon."

Jason wraps an arm around Tim's waist--probably solely to disguise the sharp pinch he delivers to Tim's side--and smiles down at him.

"You deserve it, baby," he says, in the same smarmy tone he's been using all night.

It makes Tim want to punch him, a reaction he's sure Jason's eliciting on purpose--after all, he's been doing the same thing with his own Valley girl impersonation.

...It's possible he and Jason aren't taking this mission as seriously as they should be.

Oh well.

In retaliation for the pinch, Tim fakes a stumble over a crack in the sidewalk and drives his elbow into Jason's gut, earning a faint oof he wants to smile over.

Instead, he puts his hands to his face in exaggerated dismay.

"Oh, I'm so clumsy," he says mournfully. "It's so embarrassing..."

Jason brushes his hair (or rather, his wig) out of his face and twists his ear painfully in the process; Tim applies his stiletto heel to the toe of Jason's left shoe.

"You're not clumsy, baby, it's just those shoes," Jason says, voice a little tight--with pain or annoyance? Tim can't tell. "You want me to go get the car?"

"No, no," Tim says, "it's such a nice night--just look at those stars!"

He tips his head back and gazes dreamily at the sky which, being in Gotham, shows not a single star.

"They're so beautiful," he says happily.

"Not as beautiful as you," Jason says, with such smarmy passion that Tim barely remembers to hide the laugh he can't help behind a cough.

"Oh, pookie bear," he says--

--and finally, Jason breaks.

He lets go of Tim's waist to brace his hands against his knees as he cackles, choking out "fucking hell" and "pookie" as he struggles to catch his breath.

Tim just smiles and enjoys the victory.

"Okay," Jason says once he catches his breath, "holy shit, you win. How the fuck did you say that with a straight face?"

"Practice," Tim says dryly. "You play the tough guy too often. You should branch out more, broaden your range. Then you won't be so easy to shake."

Jason gives him a flat look and, straightening to his full height, spreads his arms in a silent invitation to look at him. Admittedly, Jason's height and bulk do make him less than ideal for the kinds of covers Tim prefers.

Tim was bullshitting anyway--Jason might default to tough guy, but he's entirely capable of more versatile covers. And he really wasn't that easy to shake; Tim was kind of expecting to break him when he showed up in a dress, stilettos, and wig without warning. Instead, he lasted all through dinner and a ways into their walk.

"Okay, you lasted a lot longer than I expected," he admits.

Jason smirks. "Admit it, I almost got you at dinner."

It's true that Tim came extremely close to breaking when Jason spoke over and ordered for him at the restaurant. Tim actually didn't get to say a single word to their waitress--not even thank you.

"You almost got a plate dumped in your lap," he corrects. Now that they've given up the covers, he shrugs out of Jason's jacket and hands it back. "I could see Ashley thinking about it every time you cut me off."

"Yeah, that was a close one," Jason agrees. "I doubled my usual tip in thanks for her restraint."

Tim nods in approval. "But yeah, admittedly I was not expecting you to go the--"

"Hello?" Dick's voice breaks in, thick with annoyance and a little too loud over the comms. "Did you guys forget that you have a job to do? This does not sound like an undercover conversation!"

Tim and Jason trade eyerolls.

"Good catch, Dickiebird," Jason says. "We are not in fact undercover."

"Excuse me?"

"Dick," Tim says with extreme patience, "Damian is a trained vigilante. He absolutely does not need us as backup on his first date."

Dick gasps in offense. "We agreed--"

"No, we agreed," Jason corrects.

"Yeah, we agreed your mother-henning was out of control," Tim says. "We tipped off Damian last night so he could change his reservation."

"And got Babs to find something to distract you with so you couldn't come follow him yourself," Jason adds.

Dick splutters.

"Take a deep breath," Tim suggests.

"Chill the fuck out," is Jason's less gentle contribution. "Anyway, we're done for the night. You should call it, too--maybe work on remembering the kid is sixteen and not six."

"Harsh but fair," Tim agrees thoughtfully. "Night, Dick!"

Dick is still spluttering when Tim pulls out his comm.

"How much do I owe you for dinner?" he asks Jason.

Jason shrugs and slings his jacket over one shoulder. "Buy me ice cream, we'll call it even."

"Deal," Tim says.

Because he, unlike Damian, is no longer a teenager, he doesn't ask if going for ice cream constitutes a real date.

He can't stop himself from wondering, though.

Happy early birthday, anon!!! In celebration, this got very long lmao. Prompt #8 was two characters on a nighttime stroll! I hope you enjoyed! ♡♡

#jaytim #jaytim fic #yasminfic #meme response #anon response #i had fun with this one #thanks for the prompt! ♡#and now i say goodnight #i'll continue answering prompts tomorrow!! sleep well everyone ♡

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toomuchracket · 29 days ago

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caffeine overload (barista matty x reader smut)

promptober. this is so soft!! i almost cried writing!! enjoy <3

you wake up to an aching body and an empty bed.

it's the latter that bugs you most, though - it's 10am on a sunday, matty's day off, you're in his bed, and he's nowhere to be found. wincing as you do, you reach towards his side of the bed, only to discover the sheets - while rumpled - are cold; he's been up for a while.

bastard. what's the point of having a boyfriend with nice arms if you can't wake up in them?

fuck it. you might as well get up and find him. plus, your throat is dry, the kind of soreness that can only be achieved by drinking copious amounts of vodka-based concoctions, the kind of soreness that can only be alleviated by drinking a pint of cold water in one go. with great effort, you pull yourself out of bed and matty's sweatshirt over your head, shuffling out of the bedroom at a snail's pace. when you reach the hallway, you speed up slightly as the smell of fresh coffee wafts its way to you from the kitchen, the promise of both caffeine and matty spurring you on.

stepping onto the tiled floor in bare feet makes you hiss, which in turn makes matty look up. he's at the breakfast bar, reading a book - one you gave to him in recommendation, actually - and he smiles softly as soon as he sees you. god, he's beautiful. “hi, baby,” his voice is even softer than his face. “y’alright?”

“no.”

“no?” he looks panicked, rushing to you and gently holding your face. “you're not feeling well?”

“no, i don't even have a headache,” you wrap your arms around his waist, smushing your face into him. “i'm not alright because you weren't in bed when i woke up,” tilting your head, you give him the sad eyes - slight overkill, maybe, but you secretly love playing into the girlfriend role like this. “wanted a cuddle.”

“oh, darling,” matty's face softens again, and he moves his arms around your shoulders to hug you properly. “m'sorry, sweet girl. i just figured you'd maybe want to sleep for a while, and i could go and make coffee for you waking up.”

you pull back slightly, brows raised in interest. “is there coffee for me?”

he kisses your nose. “coffee and a cookie in the oven.”

“you're a dream, healy.”

“i try. sit down, darling, i'll get you breakfast,” matty drops a kiss onto the top of your head as you oblige, perching yourself on a stool while he faffs about with the fancy coffee machine you think is both slightly pointless (his coffee shop is literally downstairs) and scary to use by yourself (why on earth are there so many buttons?). “so,” he slides you a big glass of water, which you gulp down eagerly. “how are you genuinely feeling this morning?”

“so, so tired,” as if to prove your point, you yawn. “but my head is fine, and i don't feel pukey. my limbs are aching, though. like, proper sore.”

“well, that's what happens when you dance for three straight hours, sweetheart.”

the smile in his voice is obvious. you glare at his (very nice-looking) back. “m'never going anywhere run by your friends ever again.”

“nah, ross said you and the girls were great fun. you're welcome back anytime, apparently.”

still, you grumble. “can't believe you didn't tell me it was his bar,” you sip your water. “or that he was so attractive. i mean, really, one friend group should not contain so many good-looking people. s'unfair.”

matty cackles. “i'm gonna tell the girls you said that.”

“no, they agreed. we had this discussion yesterday. they're all in love with ross, now.”

he winces. “i don't think any of them would be able to handle ross,” matty turns to face you. “even you might struggle, to be honest.”

your eyes widen. “oh, you mean, like…?”

“oh, yeah. he's a proper dom, that one,” matty winks. “not like either of us.”

interesting. “have the two of you ever-”

“fucked? nah.”

you roll your eyes. “i was gonna say shared someone, but alright.”

“haven't done that either,” the oven beeps, and matty carefully removes the delicious-smelling chocolate-chip treat, before smirking at you. “why? you interested?”

you shrug. “maybe. if everyone wants to. i don't mind.”

“i can ask him - careful with that, it's hot,” your boyfriend slides the cookie and a set of cutlery to you, which you excitedly thank him for before tucking in. “he thinks you're fit, so he might be up for it.”

“he does?”

“told me last night that he ‘understands why i've been spending all my time with you,’” matty smiles, pouring espresso and oat milk into a mug. “you know, when you phoned me at half 11 to come and pick you up because you missed me too much.”

“shut up,” you can feel your cheeks burning. “too many people were ordering espresso martinis. it made me miss you.”

he reaches across to caress your cheek. “oh, my sweet, clingy girl. you're so weird.”

“you literally make the cold brew that goes into them. it would be weird if i didn't think about you when someone got one,” you take the final bite of your cookie. “and don't you try to pretend you didn't absolutely love me calling you. could hear you smiling from all the way down the street.”

“yeah, i did love it. i love being your boyfriend, and getting to take care of you,” while you swoon, he places a latte in front of you, foam art designed in a heart shape. “speaking of, d'you want a shower? might help your post-dancing pains.”

“ooh, yeah,” you sip your coffee, sighing happily. “can i hop in now?”

“of course, darling,” matty smiles when you kiss his cheek; his brow furrows when you get up to leave the room, though. “you're taking the latte with you?”

“why wouldn't i?”

he shakes his head. “you really are weird, darling.”

“and you're into me regardless,” you wink, and he giggles. it's adorable. “i won't be long, babe.”

true to your word, you're out in fifteen minutes, body soothed by the combination of hot water and matty’s shower gel. once you're dry, clad in his jumper and boxers, you pad through to the living room and climb onto his lap on the sofa. “hi.”

“hi, baby,” matty kisses your head, reaching to mute the tv before wrapping his arms around you. “feeling better?”

“yeah. still a bit tired, but-”

“oh, i can help with that,” he lets go of you long enough to hand you a full, steaming mug of coffee from the little table beside you. “started making it when i heard the shower turn off.”

“you're so sweet, matthew,” you coo, taking a long drink of the coffee before kissing your boyfriend on the cheek. “making me coffee, putting the fire on, buying me cleanser and moisturiser to keep here - that was really thoughtful, by the way, angel. thank you.”

he giggles, hiding his face in your neck. “i just like making you happy.”

“you're really good at it,” once you've laid the coffee back on the table, your hands find their way onto matty's face. “and you're so pretty!”

“oh, shush,” he rolls his eyes, cheeks warming under your hands. “you're the pretty one, we both know this.”

“mmmm, no.”

“mmmm, yeah.”

“no, you're-”

“cookie, my darling, you're not winning this argument. trust me, babe,” matty leans back, eyes raking up and down your body in a not-particularly-PG-but-very-sexy manner. “especially not when you're wearing my clothes.”

“you like it when i do that?”

“fuck, yeah,” he grins, cheeky. “s'my favourite look of yours. well,” he corrects himself. “second favourite.”

“the first's when i'm naked, isn't it?”

“is it creepy if i say yes?”

“matty, you're my boyfriend,” you roll your eyes. “i want you to like it when i'm naked.”

he presses his forehead to yours. “i love it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” his lips meet your forehead, your nose, your lips - the kiss is quick, but as good as ever. “you're fucking gorgeous. like, sex thoughts aside… you just look so beautiful when you're not wearing anything. i mean, you're always beautiful, but,” he smiles against your lips. “i think you're really stunning when you're at your barest like that. dunno if it's a trust thing, or just to do with how deeply i feel for you anyway, but… yeah.”

jesus. you're not a believer in the concept of absolute perfection, but matty definitely comes pretty bloody close; you'd give him that accolade for the way he kisses you back alone. detaching your lips when you risk getting too lightheaded, you giggle softly into him, a sound he copies. “you're my favourite, you know,” you kiss him again, smiling against him when he moans into your mouth. “and if you wanted to see me naked right now… i'd be quite up for that.”

matty smiles. “thought you were tired, darling?”

“nuh-uh,” you shake your head. “the caffeine's done its job. maybe a little bit too well, actually,” another kiss. “i want you, matty.”

he groans, burrowing his head into your neck; you join in with the chorus when his lips meet the soft skin there. “how do you want it, cookie?”

“i want - oh, fuck,” you whimper, hand coming up to clutch your boyfriend's hair as he nips at your neck. “want it on the floor…”

“dirty girl.”

“... in front of the fire,” the words come out as a strangled groan, matty sucking marks onto your body sending heat flooding within it. “want you deep, and slow, and filling me up. yes,” you cut him off, noticing his mouth opening as if to talk. “i want you to cum inside me.”

“i thought you didn't like that?”

“no, i didn't like it with anyone else,” you bite your lip, well aware of what you're about to say. “but you… i think you should mark what's yours.”

“god,” matty's voice is shaky, more breath than sound. his forehead meets your shoulder, and you smile as you caress the back of his head while he inhales deeply. sweet boy.

the sweetness doesn't last long, though - he hooks his hands under your arse and lifts you, still biting at your neck as he carries you to the soft rug in front of the fire. you've been obsessed with matty's fireplace since the first time you saw it, fascinated by the crackling flames illuminating and warming up the room; they're very reminiscent of how matty lights you up, and manages to send heat coursing through your body. like now, for instance, as he kneels to carefully lay you down on the fabric and his thumbs find the waistband on your shorts on their way back round to the front of your body… yeah, you're turned on.

and he knows it, the little shit, grinning stupidly when you bite your lip. “alright, cookie?”

you pout. “matty…”

“yeah, darling?” he kisses your nose, and a fresh set of butterflies take off within you. “what d'you want?”

“please take my clothes off,” you roll your hips up into his, biting your lip when he groans softly. “and yours. wanna see you.”

matty coos, leaning back to pull his t-shirt over his head. the fabric is thrown onto the sofa, closely followed by your (well, his) sweatshirt, and he beams at the sight of your bare chest. “perfect girl.”

“pretty boy,” you rake your nails down matty's chest, just hard enough to make him moan, hooking them into the waistband of his sweatpants. “can i?”

“please, yeah.”

“mmmkay,” you slide the grey fabric down, beaming when matty moves to kick it off his legs and you see what's underneath - which is, to say, absolutely nothing. “matthew, you little slut.”

“says the woman begging me to get her naked,” he retorts, pulling your shorts off and pushing your legs back; his pupils dilate at the sight of your glistening core. “fuck, cookie, is this all for me?”

you nod enthusiastically. “all of it,” your voice is breathy with desperation, words turning to a wanton moan as you watch matty stroke himself while he looks at you. “take what's yours, please. put it in, baby, ple- oh, just like that.”

“oh my god,” matty slowly pushes into you, moving to rest on his elbows at either side of your head. his forehead rests against yours, chests pressed together and breathing slowly in tandem as he finally bottoms out; it's the most intimate the two of you have been with each other so far, and - in the best possible way, of course - you're feeling a little bit overwhelmed. matty being matty, lovely and attentive, he notices, shifting his weight onto one elbow so he can softly stroke your cheek. “you alright, my girl?”

you nod. “yeah, angel. just full.”

your heart, too.

“d'you need a minute like this, darling?”

“if that's okay,” you kiss his nose. “like having you close to me.”

matty beams, and it makes your heart feel funny. “so do i. we'll stay like this as long as you want.”

“thank you,” you smile, lightly scratching his scalp the way he likes. “can i have a kiss, please?”

he doesn't answer. instead, matty presses his lips to yours, tongue languid as it traces across your cupid's bow and licks into your mouth when you open it in a soft moan. it's just as passionate as ever, but slow, drawn-out, and just completely ruinous to you; your cunt tightens around him, desperate to be even closer to your boyfriend than you already are, probably as a result of his mouth kissing away any thoughts in your head that aren't him. your hips begin to roll, matty's follow suit, and - still kissing - soon enough, he's fucking you exactly how you wanted him to, slow and deep and so fucking good.

you're not even sure you can call it fucking, actually, the sex you two are having right now; neither of you have said the important word to each other, yet, but there's really no other way to describe this activity as anything other than lovemaking. not that you've ever done that, or ever actually been in love with anyone, but the word seems like an accurate term for right now, when you feel like you'd die if matty was any further away from you than he currently is, and you’re desperate to make him happy, to make him make those gorgeous little moans that fall from his lips whenever you clench around him or roll your hips just so, to make him kiss you so hard it leaves you both breathless.

he pulls away from your lips slightly after one such kiss, just enough that he can look at you properly; when he does, his face cracks into a gorgeous smile. “hi.”

“hi,” you smile back, caressing his cheekbone. “having fun?”

“s'an understatement,” matty laughs, groaning as he fucks into you again. “only one thing that could make this better for me, actually.”

“s'that?”

he ducks his head down, licking a long stripe up your neck to your lips. “you letting me make you cum.”

fuck. “yes, please.”

another kiss, a smile against your lips. “so good for me. cum whenever you're ready, yeah?”

you smirk. “you don't want me to beg?”

matty shakes his head. “not today, cookie. want you to take what you deserve.”

“okay,” you kiss him, moaning into his open mouth when a calloused thumb finds your clit, circling with practised precision. “fuck, baby, you're so good,” the two layers of stimulation feel amazing, proven by you audibly getting wetter as matty keeps thrusting, slow and deep and sexy. “so fucking good.”

“love feeling you like this,” your boyfriend groans, burrowing his head into your neck. “could stay like this forever. and i would, if you wanted me to,” he kisses your neck, gentle, before moving to look at you again. those pretty eyes of his are hazy, his cheeks are flushed, and he's never looked more beautiful. “i'd do anything for you, darling.”

the overwhelming intimacy of the morning reaches breaking point; so do you, imminent orgasm the only thing preventing you from giving in and saying the word that's been dancing on the tip of your tongue whenever you've so much as thought about matty lately. instead, you cling to him, whispering against his lips. “m'so close.”

matty whines, hips and hand keeping up their movements, despite the fact you can feel him shaking above you. “c'mon, cookie,” his words are punctuated with kisses, desperate liplocks that you can't quite decide are meant to fuel him or tip you over the edge. both, probably. “let go for me, my darling. give in, let me give you what you deserve, perfect girl.”

that's all you need.

“fuck, matty,” you press your face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, whimpering into his sweaty skin as pleasure careens through your trembling body. it's the strongest orgasm you think you've ever had, every little subsequent aftershock devastating to you; when one of them coincides with matty's orgasm, it actually sets you off fully again, moaning in harmony with him as he pulses heat deep inside you. “oh my god.”

“jesus,” matty groans into your hair, fucking shallower and shallower into you as he stops cumming. once he's done, he practically falls onto you, resting his head on your heaving chest - there's silence for a minute, aside from heavy breathing and the crackling of the fire, and then he lifts his head up to peek at you. “how you feeling, cookie?”

you nod, trying to find the words. “like i just had the best sex i've ever had.”

your boyfriend laughs, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “i'm feeling the same.”

“really?”

“yeah,” he brushes a bit of hair from your face. “that was really special, baby. meant a lot to me.”

“me too,” you reach up to touch his face, mirroring his action with you. “never felt like this before, y'know. so safe, so cared for,” you smile bashfully. “or so beautiful, actually.”

“oh, darling,” matty kisses your forehead. “m'glad i can make you feel so good. all i wanna do, to be honest.”

“sweet boy,” you smile. “can we stay like this for a while?

he smiles back, and you have to bite your lip from blurting out how you actually feel about him. “of course.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #barista matty #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fluff #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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streussal · 5 months ago

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i 100% agree with u about the fight, my question is why do you think they even included that scene? i don't feel like it tells us anything we don't already know & it gives ppl who dont remember the original scene opportunity to believe louis was the aggressor.. don't know how to feel about it to be frank

I got this ask after I made this post. Responding almost 4 days later so I don't know if the anon will see this, but I have some thoughts.

First of all, no matter how strongly a piece of media demonstrates who is the bad guy in a situation, there's always going to be people who side with the abuser, ESPECIALLY if the abuser is a white male and the victim is anyone other than a white male. Louis straight up said in the scene (LESTAT'S VERSION) "like you wrapped your hands around our daughter's neck" so it's pretty clear he's responding to Lestat attacking Claudia. On stage, Lestat goes off script and insists that it was wrong of him to drop Louis from the sky, and that afterwards Louis was "a broken thing. I know, I saw, because I am the one that broke him". He then follows this with the admission that he did it because Louis hurt his feelings, not because of any threats or violence from Louis: “I couldn’t persuade him to return my affections. I could force him to love me. And so, I broke him.” If people don't get that Lestat was in the wrong here, I don't think there's anything else the writers can do.

As for why I think the show gave us that scene:

Playing around with different points of view is neat, and showing different recollections of the same event is a recurring thing in this show. (I'm torn on whether this is Lestat's actual recollection or just something the coven added to make Louis look bad - see my interpretation that Lestat is being coerced into participating in the trial - but either way it plays into one of the themes of the series.) Yes showing the POV of an abuser could backfire if it falls into victim blaming but I think the show handled it very well (and there is a portion of the audience that is always going to see Lestat as the victim even when he straight up says he was the bad guy in a situation).

It shows Louis physically protecting Claudia AND prioritizing her over Lestat. One of the major criticisms of Louis is his failure to do either of these things, so I actually think it made a lot of people like him better. Most of the twitter reactions I saw, from people who accepted the scene as 100% fact, was people talking about how great it was that Louis was ready to kill the guy who hurt his daughter.

It allows Jacob Anderson to do something different! One of the reasons I'm suspicious of this version of events with Louis cackling is that I have not seen Louis act quite like that before. But Jacob definitely sold it! Makes me wonder if maybe this is yet another side of Louis! I don't know! It adds rewatch value.

The acknowledgement that Lestat dropping Louis from the sky really did do long term damage to Louis. Not just physically. He became "a broken thing" - there was serious psychological damage. After he got back together with Lestat, we never really saw him push back against Lestat again. A lot of his time in Paris is a reaction against being in an abusive relationship. (And then he gets in another one, which happens a lot in real life.)

But I think it's also significant that right after this scene, we saw Lestat's remorse. And a much more real apology than anything we saw in s1. Now obviously this does not fix anything. (Claudia highlights this - "Can I cry and say sorry too?" - She and Louis tried to kill Lestat and are on trial, Lestat nearly kills Louis and just gives an apology.) But it gives the possibility that perhaps Lestat has changed or realized that he needs to change. And given that the showrunner has repeatedly referred to Loustat as the central love story of the series (link)... we need to see that Lestat is not going to do the same thing again. We want him to be better for Louis. Not that it would ever be an entirely healthy relationship (they are vampires), but not "drop him the sky requiring months of recovery" level awful. (@awildwickedslip wrote an interesting post relating to this here)

#lestat #loustat #claudia x louis #the original dysfunctional vampire family #interview with the vampire #iwtv meta #replies #anon #louis de pointe du lac #vampterview #iwtv posting

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petitelepus · 8 days ago

Text

Summary: You're on your way to your third Gym when you run into Gyutaro who wants your Gym Badges. You accept the challenge and you two have a Pokémon Battle!

Warnings: None

A/N: Reader, Gender!Neutral Reader, Gyutaro Shabana, Ume Shabana, Pokémon

Extra: I actually used a Random Pokémon generator to pick Reader's Pokémon and it happened to be Gligar!

You were so excited as you looked at the map in your Rotom Phone. You were close to the next city and your next Gym Battle! You were a rather new Pokémon Trainer, having only won 2 Gym Badges so far, but you had studied and practiced like crazy and you were more than eager to earn your third Badge!

You could almost imagine how the next Gym Battle would go and what strategy you should choose to use, but you stopped when you heard someone cry out loud, "Skiddo!"

You blinked, curious as you followed the source of the voice to a small meadow where it looked like a Pokémon battle was being held. This young boy had sent out their Skiddo and by the looks of it, they had gotten their asses handed back to them.

"Tch, such a weakling," The guy they had battled against spat on the ground but then he offered his hand to the young boy… Or so you thought, but instead the guy snapped, "Hand over your money as we agreed!"

"T- this is all I have…" The boy cried as he returned his fainted Pokémon to its ball and then he handed out what little money he had. The guy glared at him as he took the money and slipped it into his pocket, "Now run back to your mommy!"

The boy rushed to get away as fast as he could. You hummed as you wondered what you just witnessed and that was when the guy noticed you and shouted, "What are you looking at!?"

"S- sorry!" You called but the guy snapped, "Get over here!"

"I- Uh-!"

"Hurry up!"

"Eep!" You yelped as you ran through the meadow and to the young man and your eyes widened as you saw him. He looked different from all the humans you had ever seen, as he had dark markings all over his skin and sharp teeth, but he also had very pretty blue eyes.

You must have been staring because his look darkened from glare to something much more, "You got a problem with me!?"

"N- No, but that boy, uh…"

"What about him? Are you his friend or something?"

"N- No," You shook your head, "Did you take his money?"

"That's what we agreed. He lost so he lost his privilege for the money."

"Ah, I see…" You nodded and while it wasn't uncommon to pay for the winner of the match some money, this guy seemed to have taken everything the young Trainer had.

"How much?" The guy suddenly asked and you blinked, confused, "What?"

"How much money you got?"

"Oh, uh…" You frowned as you didn't carry cash with you like that, "I don't have any cash with me."

"Then what do you have there?" He asked and you followed his gaze to your bag where your Pokémon companions were, your wallet, and your Gym Badges.

"My Pokémon, Gym Badges-!"

"Alright, those will do," The guy said and you were confused, "Wha-?"

"Give me your Badges!" He snapped and you yelped, but you had to stand your ground. You earned those badges and you didn't want to give them up to some bully!

"N- No!" You frowned and the guy scowled, "No?"

"No!" You shook your head, "They are mine! I won them fair and square!"

"Then let's battle for them," The guy grinned, showing off his sharp teeth, "1 on 1, and when I win, you will hand over your Gym Badges!"

"Why should I accept that offer?"

"Because if you don't, I will beat you and take them by force!"

"That's-!" You were speechless by this guy, but you couldn't back down now.

"Okay, then," You nodded, "Let's battle then."

"Great," The guy cackled as you took your place away from him.

"My name is Gyutaro Shabana and I'm going to take you to Hell!" He laughed as he reached for a Pokéball and you frowned as you grabbed your ball and threw it into the air, releasing your partner Pokémon.

Your pink companion, Gligar came out of its Pokéball, crying out as it happily balanced on its tail. Gyutaro's ball snapped open and you soon learned that you were against a Toxicroak.

"Alright, let's get started!" Gyutaro grinned, "Toxicroak, take that weakling out with Poison Jab!"

The blue frog Pokémon shouted out loud as it bolted at your Gligar, its large red claw glowing as it pulled it back and jabbed forward-!

"Dodge it!" You snapped and Gligar quickly used its strong tail to bounce over the quickly approaching Toxicroak-!

"Low kick!" Gyutaro ordered and the Poisonous Pokémon stopped and swiped its leg, hitting your landing Gligar's tail and tripping it on the ground.

"Gligar!" You cried out and your opponent snapped, "Poison Jab again!"

"Use your claws to stop it!" You instructed and just as the Toxicroak was about to jab its sharp poisonous claw at your Pokémon, Gligar quickly snapped its claws around the purple glowing claw, stopping it just inches away from its face.

"Poison Tail!" You ordered and Gligar grinned as its pointy tail started to glow purple. Toxicroak's yellow eyes widened and it tried to pull its claw away, but your Pokémon's hold was strong as iron, and it jabbed its tail straight into the Poison-type's belly.

"Tch, get away from there!" Gyutaro ordered and finally, his Pokémon managed to pull itself free and bounced away from yours.

"Gligar, use X-Scissor!" You shouted and the pink Pokémon cried out as its claws started to glow green and-!

"Sucker Punch!" Your opponent shouted and your eyes widened as you watched Toxicroak move with unbelievable speed, its claw glowing dark now as it jabbed it into your Gligar's belly, sending the poor Pokémon flying.

"Balance Gligar, balance!" You cried out and the pink Pokémon spread its wings to stop itself from flying away and landed on its tail again.

"Are you alright?" You asked and your companion cried out happily as it bounced on its tail, eager to continue the battle.

You smiled, feeling positive because you had a secret weapon against the Toxicroak that you knew was not only Poison-type but Fighting-type also!

"Prepare yourself!" You shouted as you grinned, "Go Gligar, and do Acrobatics!"

"Tch, fight it off with Close Combat!" Gyutaro snapped and the two of your Pokémons cried out as they bolted, and what happened next was so intense and happened so quickly you could barely follow them.

Toxicroak and Gligar took on each other, Toxicroak throwing punches, kicks, and slashes at Gligar that offered a real battle to the Poison-type Pokémon, moving just as quickly and nimbly as Toxicroak did while trying to hit it with its own claws and pointy tail.

"Amazing…!" You gasped as a smile broke out on your face. You couldn't recall the last time you were so excited! Even your earlier 2 Gym Battles weren't as exciting as battling against Gyutaro was!

"Go Gligar go! You can do it!" You cheered your Pokémon on and the said Pokémon cried out, not wanting to disappoint you, its beloved Trainer.

"Don't lose Toxicroak!" Gyutaro snapped and the Pokémon in question shouted as it hated the idea of losing.

"Poison Jab!" He shouted and you countered, "Poison Tail!"

Your Pokémons cried out as they jumped apart and then forwards and Toxicroak's poisonous claw collided with Gligar's equally poisonous tail!

"X-Sciss-!"

"Sucker-!"

"Brother!" Came a loud shrill scream and you and Gyutaro both flinched and your Pokémons stilled in confusion as their Trainers lost their focus on the ongoing battle. All four of you, Gyutaro, and your Pokémons turned to look at who had screamed and you all saw a young girl running at you.

"Brother!"

"Ume-!?" Gyutaro gasped and you blinked, confused because they looked nothing alike. This young girl had snow-white hair and was beautiful- Oh wait, they both had pretty blue eyes!

"Brother, you were supposed to pick me up!"

"Shit, sorry Ume…" Gyutaro frowned, "I got caught up in Pokémon battle…"

"That is no excuse!" Ume snapped and you had a feeling that your battle was over and your Gym Badges were safe. While Ume kept yelling and scolding her older brother, you walked next to your Gligar and bent down to pet the amazing Pokémon.

"You were awesome Gligar," You smiled proudly, "Really awesome!"

Gligar cried out happily and you grinned as you took out its Pokéball and returned it inside the ball. You got up and noticed that Gyutaro's Toxicroak had joined its Trainer's side.

"Um, sorry but…" You carefully approached the two siblings and the beautiful girl turned her glare on you, "What?"

"Your brother and I-!"

"It doesn't matter!" Ume snapped, "Brother, I'm hungry! I waited for you so long I got really hungry!"

"It's okay…" Gyutaro nodded as he dug out the earlier money he had won from the boy and handed it to his sister, "This should be more than enough for our dinner."

"Yay! Let's go eat right now!" Ume cheered and suddenly you realized that there was an actual reason why he took everything that boy had to feed his sister.

"Excuse me…" You smiled a little, "M- May I join you guys?"

The siblings' blue eyes widened and Gyutaro scowled, "Why?"

"Well…"

"We aren't paying for your food!" Ume said and you shook your head, "It's okay, I can pay myself."

"Not good enough!" The girl squinted her eyes at you, "You have to buy us dessert if you want to join us!"

"Okay okay," You nodded, "I'll buy you ice cream-!"

"No!" Ume snapped, "I want pretty Frosted Poké Puffs!"

That is when you realize something. This girl was spoiled rotten… Yet you still nodded, "Alright, I'll buy you as many Poké Puffs as you can eat."

"Jay!" The girl nodded as she turned around and started to head towards the city, "Come on! I'm hungry!"

"Coming…" You and Gyutaro called as he returned his Toxicroak to its ball and the two of you started to follow Ume's lead.

"Tch… Sorry that I tried to take your Badges from you…" Gyutaro broke the silence.

"Well… I forgive you," You smiled, "This Pokémon battle was so much fun and more than enough for me!"

"I need to get stronger…" Gyutaro grumbled, "My sister… Her dream is to become the best Pokémon Performer there is…"

"Oh?" You had seen some performances on TV, but you had never even imagined taking part in them.

"It's an expensive dream, but I'm willing to do everything to make her dream come true!" The young man nodded, "She can't become the Queen if she is related to someone as ugly as me…!"

"Oh…" You frowned. That was very sad…

"So I need to become the strongest Trainer there is so people won't judge us because of my looks! Then, I can kick anyone's ass that dares to defy us!"

"That is…" You smiled, "Pretty noble."

You had made up your mind. You had to ask.

"Hey, are you living here or are you perhaps traveling?"

"We don't have a home," Gyutaro grunted, "So yeah, we travel where we can and I get us money for food and such with Pokémon Battles."

"Then… Can I join you guys?" You asked and the young man looked at you like you had just grown another head, "What!?"

"I want to battle you again and I don't like the idea of waiting until we happen to meet again!" You smiled excitedly, "I can help you become stronger and for your sister to achieve her dream!"

"What…?" Gyutaro frowned, "And what do you want?"

"I want more exciting battles and such!" You grinned as you offered your hand to him, "Do we have a deal? We can talk more about it over dinner?"

Oh shoot, that almost sounded like a date!

…But Gyutaro grunted as he stubbornly looked away from you, not able to keep eye contact with someone with such sparkly eyes like yours.

"Fine…" He relented, "But you're seriously buying those Poké Puffs!"

"Deal!"

#demon slayer #demon slayer pokemon #pokémon #gyutaro #gyutaro shabana #daki #demon slayer daki #ume shabana #reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #writing #my writing #story #my story #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #Enjoy!

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strangerqueerthings · 2 years ago

Text

Billy doesn't really like to be touched, despite the mask he puts on being the contrary. He's a guy, he's supposed to want to get into scuffles, play physical contact sports, and most importantly, he's supposed to want a girl all over him, being handsy and gloating that she has him to herself while does the same.

He's tried it. He really has. He just can't bring himself to like it. He hates it. His "girlfriends" are one night stands followed by a day of tolerating the constant touches, the attempts as stealing a kiss, before it ends in another brokenhearted girl running to the bathroom to the comfort of her best friends, and he's added another notch on his belt that he never wanted.

Touch overwhelms him, and being touched by people he doesn't know well, doesn't trust, feels like an invasion, and it makes him shut down, because it he can't focus on anything but the discomfort of unwanted physical contact.

So naturally, when he starts hanging out with Eddie, the first thing he notices is how physical the other boy is.

Eddie needs to touch and be touched. He's always fiddling with something, draping an arm around a friend's shoulder, roughhousing or leaning against the nearest person.

Eddie tends to slip off into dreamland, or get distracted, lost in his thoughts, and sometimes, the only thing that keeps him grounded is the presence, the touch of a friend.

Gareth and Jeff are used to it. When Eddie leans against one of them, they don't mind- Gareth often turns it into playful shoulder checking that ends up with them scuffling and cackling.

It's a tactic Gareth uses when Eddie is in a poor mood, and it helps cheer him up almost instantly.

Billy, however, is different. He flinches from Eddie's casual touch, and practically recoils from the heavier gestures like leaning or putting an arm around his shoulder.

Eddie and Billy take their time circling around this issue-the touch averse and the touch dependent.

Eddie offers weed to Billy, hoping to smoke with him, get him relaxed, and maybe break through that wall around him.

Billy isn't interested, asks to buy it instead, and Eddie sighs, but sells him the weed. Billy smokes it alone in his car before driving home with the windows down to blow away the smell.

Eddie notices Billy's actually really smart, and is doing well in class. He puts on a nonchalant, "I'm bored and want to leave" sort of air, and the way he sprawls in his chair, legs spread under his desk, showing off his tight his jeans are give him the appearance of someone who doesn't give a shit about his grades.

Eddie has seen the grades on his tests, though. Billy has never gotten anything lower than an A minus on his tests. He's heard even Nancy Wheeler is pissed off that she has competition- even though she's still a junior.

So, Eddie asks Billy after school to help him study. He sucks at studying, and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, having Billy around might give him incentive to pay attention. That by studying, he's getting the reward of looking at Billy's tight jeans and pretty face.

He offers to reimburse his time with weed, and Billy agrees, along with a comment that it's something to get him out of the house in a way his dad wouldn't take issue with.

Eddie doesn't ask, because he doesn't want to scare Billy off.

So here he is, sitting in the back of his van with Billy, books and notebooks everywhere, as Eddie struggles to come up with a thesis for his paper on symbolism.

"You like dark shit, right?" Billy asks, flicking ash off his Marlboro. Eddie nods.

"What about Poe's 'Masque of Red Death'? It's got a lot of symbolism, and it's about tuberculosis."

Eddie cocks his head. He's read a few of his work-The Telltale Heart, The Black Cat, and The Pit and the Pendulum, but he hasn't read the one Billy mentions.

"Isn't it about a masquerade? Not really my vibe."

"It is, but it isn't, because of the symbolism. The clock, the stranger, the color of the each room, they all have meaning. It's all about Poe's trauma with tuberculosis and the inevitable death all men face," Billy says.

Eddie stares at him. He knew Billy was smart, but that sounded like something a Classic Lit major would say.

Not Billy Hargrove.

"And you just... Thought of that?"

Billy shrugs.

"I like Poe, and I read into his history. Man lost family time and time again to tuberculosis, his father abandoned him, and he struggled with alcohol. He had demons, but they resulted in some amazing writing."

Billy smiles sadly.

"I like the thought that someone with a messed up life can end up making something beautiful, you know?"

Eddie wonders if Billy's talking about Poe, or himself, but he doesn't dare ask. Instead, he decides the best choice is to go with Billy's idea, because it means he can talk to Billy more, and see him come alive while talking about something he cares about.

"It's a great idea, Billy. Sure you don't want to use that for your paper?"

"I'm doing the theme of revenge with, 'The Cask of Amontillado,'" he replies with a small, cold smile.

Eddie shakes his head.

"You're full of surprises," he says, bookmarking the short story in his literature book.

"I'm more than a womanizing hot-rodding jock," Billy says.

"I know, but every time I think I've seen all of you, you have another trick up your sleeve."

Eddie smiles.

"I like it, though."

"You're more than you seem, too," Billy says. "Everyone told me you're a freak, a metal head, but the best person to get weed from if Reefer Rick isn't around."

Billy flicks his cigarette butt out of the van.

"But they don't know you're funny. That you're generous. Sharing your pot, ribbing jokes that always make me laugh. They don't know that you're also kind and considerate, putting someone else's needs above his own."

Eddie blinks. Since when has he been altruistic?

"I know you like touch, physical contact. I see how much of it you do during your day. It's important to you. But you don't touch me."

"You flinched that one time. You don't like to be touched, and your comfort is more important."

"And that means a lot to me, because you noticed, and respected my boundaries. Everyone else just expects me to enjoy being handled all the time, and I hate it."

He smiles at Eddie.

"I appreciate it, Eddie."

That smile nearly has Eddie forgetting how to breathe.

Eddie doesn't graduate that year, but not because of his English grade-thanks to Billy, he passed with a B plus.

It was math that killed his grades. Again.

Still, it's reason to celebrate with Billy. Billy's graduating, and Eddie managed to only fail two classes.

They're in his van again, sharing a joint. It's the first time Billy has smoked with him. That last time, Billy had taken a joint, but had not smoked it.

Eddie is dying to know what Billy is like when stoned, and tonight, he's finally going to see.

After a half hour, they're both relaxed and on their way to being baked. Eddie's making jokes, Billy's laughing, they're sharing the joint and the bottle of coke, and Eddie feels like this is even better than graduating.

Billy sighs and laughs, and to Eddie's shock, he leans against Eddie, resting his head against his.

"I'm gonna be working at the pool this summer. Will you come by and ogle me like everyone else will be?"

"Why do you need me to ogle you? Plenty of girls for that."

"Because maybe I want someone I like to ogle me?"

Eddie isn't sure how to take that. Did Billy mean as a friend? Or something else?

Billy sighs and lies back, pulling Eddie down with him. They're on their backs, staring at the stars, and Billy has pulled Eddie down so that he's resting his head against Billy's shoulder.

Billy's arm is around his shoulder, and it's solid and warm, and Eddie can't understand why this is happening because Billy doesn't like to be touched?

"You don't like to be touched?"

"No. I don't like being touched unless I start it. It makes me feel safer if I have the option to say no, or if it doesn't feel like I'm being forced, but being the one who specifically invited it."

Eddie nodded. It was like how hugging a favorite uncle was good, but being forced to hug a cousin who expected it, no matter what, was uncomfortable.

Being able to say no made the difference.

"Does... Does that mean you feel safe with me? That you like me enough for this?"

"Yes," Billy says. "Do you like me enough to come visit me at work this summer?"

Eddie feels like he's floating.

"As if I could resist the idea of Billy Hargrove in lifeguard shorts."

Billy blushes, actually blushes, and Eddie, feeling bold, rolls onto his side, props himself up on an elbow, then dips his head down to kiss Billy on the lips.

It's just a light touch, and he pulls back, letting Billy decide if he will respond. He's high so his inhibition is gone, but luckily for him, so is Billy's. Billy is pulling him down and kissing him back.

Billy touches him. A tiny touch on his shoulders, his waist, and his hips. Eddie guesses what he's doing, and he mirrors the touch on Billy's shoulders, waist and hips. Billy responds by kissing him again.

He's touching Eddie where he is okay with being touched.

Eddie touches him. He rubs his shoulders, then wraps his arms around Billy's waist, holding him close.

In his arms, Billy shudders, then melts. For so long, touch was something expected to be given and received, that it made loathe it-but he also craved touch that meant something. The problem was, no one respected his boundaries enough to listen to him.

Except Eddie.

Now, he's leaning into Eddie's touch, mirroring the movement of his hands and lips, the pot making him feel like he's on the ocean, and above him, the stars are spinning, but despite that, he's never felt more secure. He's never felt more respected.

He's never felt so comfortable, safe, and appreciated as a person, instead of a conquest.

Billy had been planning on leaving Hawkins as soon as he could, but this evening has changed his mind.

He wants to stick around a little longer.

For Eddie.

#sqt drabble #mungrove #billy hargrove #eddie munson #just having some Autistic Billy and ADHD Eddie feelings don't mind me #also some Secret Lit Nerd Billy

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 2 years ago

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Hello! Hope you don't mind the random ask 🥺 You said after the newest episode that Mushitarou is one of your favorite BSD characters; could you talk a little about your thoughts on him/why you love him/his arc? He's one of my favorites too, and it makes me so so sad how underrated he is, because imo he's one of the most well-written and tragic characters in the entire series, despite how little screentime (pagetime?) he gets :' ) I wish more people would talk about him. Really hope that changes after the next episode 💚

I honestly almost screamed when I got this ask YES I CAN TALK ABOUT MUSHITARO. I CAN TALK ABOUT HIM ALL DAY.

Ok well first of all he is the poor little meow meow. Pathetic scrunkly man. I'm sorry but you can't deny that it's true. Even in-universe, it's like he's the BSD world's chew toy. He keeps getting kidnapped by different organizations with like. No breathing room in between. Give him a BREAK. Funnily enough, I enjoy and usually like to poke fun at these kinds of characters, but they're not typically my favourites. Mushitaro is, by far, an exception to my usual favourite character types.

Second, I am a lover of bittersweet tragic storylines. Yeah. Honestly, the way the storyline built to the slow reveal - I knew immediately after Poe mentioned the water droplets that they were his tears, and I was starting to suspect what was really going on, but the way it was unraveled was so, so painful and beautifully done. Even knowing it was coming today when I watched the episode, it still hurt.

Thirdly, Mushitaro's circumstances raise some intriguing questions we still don't have answered. He was captured by the Seventh Agency and made to work for them with his ability - he considers them a worse alternative to Dostoevsky and refers to them as tyrants. (We also know of another shadowy organization that takes on ability users with useful skills for nefarious purposes, V. V also somehow managed to not be discovered by either the government or Ranpo in 13 years. I'm not saying there's a connection there but... but... there might be. 👀) Anyways, point is, there's stuff goin' on there. And I wanna know. (Also I like the motivation parallels with Ango very much.)

But most of all, I fully agree with you - he is very well-written. What I love most about his character is actually the way his narrative showcases what I believe to be some of the series' character writing's biggest strengths - to excellent (and heartbreaking) effect.

Characters are often revealed to be quite different than what their initial introductions would suggest. Later revelations serve to recontextualize earlier character cues - these early cues are often misleading but not outright lies.

To be clear, this isn't a hard or particularly unique thing in character writing - in fact, this is... kind of a minimum requirement. Your audience should be able to go back after the fact and notice new things about characters that you only get on re-read. But I find BSD is interesting for this because these initial impressions don't frequently tell you what these characters actually value - the "establishing moments" are often incredibly misleading. Mushitaro is an excellent example of this.

The best part of the perfect murder arc is the way it slowly unravels piece by piece - and as it unravels, more and more, we get to see the real Mushitaro. He starts off with these terrifying facial expressions, bragging and boasting about how he is the "detective killer" and how none stand in his way, cackling like a shallow cartoon villain. There's not much there to suggest a deeper character. Then there's the first flash to Yokomizo's murder, and Mushitaro appears to revel in it and the idea that he can't be caught. Another flashback shows him making these arrogant demands of a literal terrorist, like all his tableware being silver and porcelain and having access to a library of occult books for his study. Ok dude. This all paints the picture of a selfish individual, primarily concerned with expensive things and money and image - all things that perfectly fit Ranpo's initial conjecture as to the kind of person behind the Kindaichi murder. And just like Ranpo later says, it's a little too perfect.

The reveal builds slowly but surely, and Mushitaro's built-up image as a dramatic, remorseless murderer crumbles. Because he didn't kill out of hatred at all. He killed Yokomizo because Yokomizo asked him to do so. Because this, and the legacy of a mystery that transcended fiction into reality, was his only friend's dying wish. It was enough for Mushitaro to delay his escape just to fulfill it - what Ranpo refers to as a kind of willing self-destruction.

What Mushitaro ultimately values then is honouring the wishes of those he cares about and repaying those he owes. He will take the secret of Yokomizo's ultimate mystery to his grave. He used what he likely thought were his last moments alive to grab the transceiver and warn Ranpo about the danger the Agency was in. He only decided to trust Ango after Ango admitted his use of the Seventh Agency was to honour Oda's memory and wishes.

So, going back and re-reading his intro again, it becomes more clear that he was suffering from a kind of cognitive dissonance. "But wasn't he just playing the role he was supposed to?" No. He wasn't. The first flashback to Yokomizo's murder is much more violent and ends with Mushitaro cackling and going into a full villain monologue when there is no one else around but him. There's no one to perform this role for - except Mushitaro himself.

Both the killing and the ensuing grief stemmed from the exact same source - Mushitaro loved his friend deeply. But there is, I believe, no small amount of bitterness too, for the way they argued frequently, and the way his friend asked this of him. It's practically irreconcilable in his mind, and so Mushitaro leans into his role as the evil perpetrator who hated Yokomizo to such a degree that I honestly think he started to believe it - Mushitaro, with two narratives in his mind running parallel to each other that are fundamentally conflicting, tried to make a monster of himself. Insisted on being the monster, at least until Ranpo made it impossible for him to deny the true motive behind his actions - protecting his friend's last wish.

Fittingly for the climactic reveal of a mystery storyline that blurs fiction and reality, Mushitaro's real-life grief was his perfect fictional role's undoing.

Is he boastful? Arrogant? A bit of a coward? Absolutely. But Mushitaro is no monstrous villain - he is a man unable to confront his grief over his friend's death, and who, ultimately, doesn't intend any real harm.

Because other than Yokomizo, revealed as an agreed upon assisted suicide - Mushitaro never murdered anyone.

2. Characters are not cured of their pain and trauma. They continue to struggle with it during their development and it actively impacts the way they view and interact with the world around them.

Mushitaro's story is heavily themed around grief and his consistent denial of it's effects on him. At first, he denies by embodying the role Yokomizo wanted him to play - it seems to the point where he legitimately started to lose it. He's slipping when we first meet him. In a weird way, for as much as Ranpo tore his perfect crime apart... I feel like he also saved him, in a sense. The dissonance he was experiencing likely only would've gotten worse if he had not been forced to speak the truth aloud.

After that point... the denial focuses solely on the idea that Mushitaro doesn't miss Yokomizo at all. That he's doing just fine and Yokomizo should be jealous (he's far from fine; he doesn't even see a point in going outside anymore now that he won't be able to see his friend) and that he hated him (he doesn't. he never did. but he has to. he can't deal with it.).

Another thing I really like about his arc is that Mushitaro's grief also clearly stems from the entire thing being traumatic for him - but neither Yokomizo nor Mushitaro are demonized or victimized for this; rather the situation is just shown as it is. It's nice, that the story allows the reader/viewer to draw their own judgements. Both had their reasons for their actions - Yokomizo was already dying and wanted to go out in a way that was meaningful to him, while Mushitaro chose to fulfill this wish in spite of the cost to him. They both mutually self-destructed, in a way.

The narrative doesn't frame either as the villain. It doesn't fully frame either in victimhood either. It's a tragedy all the same.

Mushitaro continues to see and hear Yokomizo wherever he goes, not because he can't get rid of him... but because he never wanted him to be gone in the first place. Stabbing me would hurt less I think. :/

3. Characters often grow and change before they consciously realize it or have any sort of "epiphany".

This ties in a lot with the ongoing theme of uncertainty, and I above all really like this aspect of the series. BSD has characters grow and change and try to be better, do better by themselves and others... without being sure of the outcome. Sometimes before they're ready to consciously admit a change is necessary. There are few epiphanies. The characters are forced to slog through hardship and only then suddenly realize how far they've come - for better or for worse.

Mushitaro does change, even in the short span of time he is a focus character. I love the first little signs of it too - Mushitaro, who doesn't even like mystery novels, uses a trick Yokomizo told him about to help himself, Atsushi and Kyouka escape. Look at him :')

Afterwards, he starts to wonder if he can see Yokomizo whenever he enters a locked room - as in, if connecting to the memory of his friend through what he loved in life will mean that he keeps that memory alive.

And as annoyed as he is with Poe's attempts to get him to write a mystery... a part of him is happy to be around people that he could start to consider his friends. Enough that the Yokomizo he hallucinates wonders if maybe he doesn't need him there anymore. And finally Mushitaro bursts.

But this is actually good. He's finally past that denial phase, the part that had him talking about hate when really he missed him all along. Thing is, he'd already been developing and changing by this point, in that he needed the growth to come to terms with this truth, and it was not the truth that drove the growth.

In a sense, Mushitaro working through his grief and uncertainty led him to a brighter outcome, one where he has more friends and can start anew. He lost the closest person in his life. But his arc continuously asserts that in spite of the fact that he will always miss his friend, Mushitaro himself is still alive. And he should live that life - both moving forward and keeping the memory of his friend with him.

Odasaku believed that writing a novel was to write people. Poe was so insistent on getting him to write because it's a way of seeing the people we want to see anytime we want.

What a beautiful character arc, that began with fiction as an escape from real-life pain, and concluded with fiction as a means to work through it and with it instead.

Plus he's just such a funky little dude.

I. Love. Mushitaro.

#also mushitaro mentions his late father a few times when talking to ranpo - it seems his dad told him to be kind to strangers #and perhaps enjoyed deductions?#idk i'm curious as to what kind of dynamic mushitaro had with his father #since his ability is so inherently sneaky and his father sounds like an honest man #anyways. i love him so much. i want good things for him.#bsd #bsd meta #bsd mushitaro #thanks for the ask!#this is so long holy shit #no wip wednesday take this meta i spent four hours on instead #hmm. sskk 'i only have so long to live due to illness' parallels #rimlaine 'i refuse to rejoin the world because the only person i care for is no longer out there' parallels #or maybe skk 'you never take my suggestions'/constant bickering and death threats parallels #and for all of the above: 'i hate him' <- actually doesn't #storyrambles #<- i really did.#bsd spoilers #bsd season 4

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alolanrain · 2 years ago

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Can I

PLEASE

Have more stoner ash headcanons pls

absolutely you can!! stoner Ash is my shit. I'm also adding my Ta!Au to this because thats my og stoner Ash.

Cilan is the first one to introduce Ash after he fucks around in a very muddy pond and finds out that he shouldn't do that after getting his ass kicked by a Seismitoad.

it's one of the most comfortable experiences Ash has ever had. his brain was quite, he didn't feel the need to run everywhere or be the first in anything, and he could ignore the pain from the multitude of bruises.

Cilan made an extra big dinner that night, as he didn't know if Ash would get the munchies or not

spoiler: he did and asked for snacks directly after dinner.

Ash is of age for Unova's marijuana laws so he follows after Cilan to a dispensary where the older boy imparts some hella wisdom onto him.

they take like a full hour of just looking around before they even considering buying anything. the guy a the cashier register kinda hates them but understands that Ash is new to this whole thing

"why do you know all about this?" "I'm the youngest child of triplets and we run a gym and a restaurant together at the same time." "... fair enough"

Cilan is a lot more open and sassy in general when he's not sober so it was fun going to a restaurant and just letting Cilan mutter some hot shit about the cutlery, the other customers, how the building isn't up to code. you name it.

edibles also quickly become Ash's favorite thing after he gets the best night of sleep he's had in a very long time.

Kalos was a fun time.

not really.

it was weird to heart Bonnie and Clemont almost... idolize him as he's smoking a blunt around the corner before they head into the Pokémon center or the hotel for the night.

it got even harder for him to get into the Kalosian dispensary's because Bonnnie was eager to stick by Ash's side and Clemont wasn't going to let his little sister out of his sight.

he managed, somehow.

Serena as a whole was a very touch and go situation for a while.

she grew up in a very purist type home so she was shocked and disgusted that Ash would even consider smoking in general.

let alone the devil lettuces

Ash couldn't give a Rattata's ass but stayed respectful to Serena's wishes on not wanting to see Ash do it while she's around him

the problem? she very rarely seemed to leave his side.

Professor Sycamore hooked him up with some homemade edibles that he made at his own personal lab, not the one he uses for actual regional professor shit.

it's actually funny because a lot of Kalosian officials smoke or do edibles and it takes everything in Ash not to cackle violently when he finds out.

it was really weird to be in a group passing a blunt between him, Professor Sycamore, Steven, and Alain.

it is still, to this day, the most chaotic group of stoners Ash has ever been in.

Kukui is very open about being a stoner towards Ash after he finds out that he does it as well. using the breadbox as his stash location that Ash totally doesn't steal an edible from time to time.

it quickly becomes a ritual that they get high together at least once per weekend.

it was an experience and a heart attack at once when Burnet walked in on them mid bowl. Kukui ended up cooking until he was about to pass out and Ash nocked his head against the doorway from just how high he jumped. He’s around 6’-ish or a little less.

She asked if she could join them next time.

It was just the trio for a while before Olivia would randomly pop up.

It was HELLA weird the first few times, as Ash and her didn’t along for a while. Eventually they agreed not to speak about what happened on her island and to not be so pissed at each other as well.

True neutrality between those two.

There has not been one day on Alola that Ash has actually felt at peace. The kids torment him on and off the clock, so a lot of times he’s forced out into public by them while fucking gone.

Ash doesn’t know how he survives but it feels like a heart attack the entire fucking time.

He’s grumpy and hangery and Ash has Lillie, Mallow, and Lana pulling him around young teen jewelry and clothe shops.

His style of clothing is completely different from the girls. They got their color and the teenage girl charm but Ash is a mix of streatwear and pajama’s.

meeting Viren while costing off the high from the night before was Weird.

10/10 would beat his ass without hesitation, this is’t really a stoner one but just principle.

#ash ketchum #stoner!ash #alolan class #professor kukui #professor burnet #pokemon cilan #professor sycamore #I feel like there would be a lot of stoners in the Pokemon realm #because mass Pokemon attacks are so deadly and theres so many almost world ending events #just gotta get a little good kind of fucked up to deal with all the bad fucked up

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 6 - The Story Of Our Life

As Jotaro noticed a man watching them intently from the bushes, the Crusaders ran after the stalker, only to find him once again, at his little residence, feeding his chicken. Joseph when to speak to him, only for the old man to react hostile and run inside his home, though not without gesturing for them to come over also. That was Avdol's father - Or, well, that was the story, at least. In truth, it was really Avdol in disguise. It took a while for the poor man to recuperate, and he also needed to do some... Shopping of sorts, so they could get a submarine and embark it, to get to Egypt already.

The party followed the old man into his own house, only for him to reveal himself as Avdol - And Polnareff made quite the scene, ugly sobbing and hugging the hell outta that man. Avdol was alive! Yay! Even though everyone else knew, anyway.

They agreed to remain hidden in the house until nightfall, so no possible enemy could detect them and realise that the foe they originally thought dead, was actually alive. It took almost two weeks for him to properly recover - Like hell will he allow himself to get in such a state ever again.

"Yo, Avdol, what's that weird book?" Polnareff asked, a beer in his hand, still celebrating his friend's living status. "... It is not mine. I have not brought this here." Avdol's mutter sombered everyone sitting at the table. "It looks like an old tome. The cover seems to be leather, and it has a Sun depicted on it." Kakyoin looked at it, pondering over the mysterious book. "If I recall correctly, you've already fought all Major Arcana Stands, with the exception of The Sun and High Priestess." Avdol hummed in thinking. "So you think this book could be in relation to The Sun's Stand power?" Kisara asked, attracted by the vintage-looking book. "Should be throw it in the fireplace? Get rid of it?" Polnareff asked, looking weirdly at it. "No. Maybe it contains some kind of clue?" Joseph pondered. "One thing's certain - The enemy is onto us, and most likely on this island." "And he knows about Avdol. If he gets out of the island, he could alert Dio's lackeys." Jotaro gruffed, frowning at the book. "And if he heard us speaking, he knows of the submarine also, so he can make his escape." Avdol pointed out. "Let's check this book out then and see what we find."

Without even as much as discussing beforehand, Kisara and Jotaro extended their hands to touch the tome, coincidentally, at the same time - But as they did, their bodies fell faint onto the ground, and nothing they tried was capable of waking them up. Kakyoin and Polnareff dragged the two teenagers onto the bedroom, placing them comfortably on the bed and trying to figure out a way to snap them awake.

Noriaki remained guarding the two, with the others going out to investigate - The island was small and tranquil, filled with tall vegetation which could mask away any presence, but not thick enough so that, without proper searching for, they couldn't eventually find a culprit. Eventually, Frenchie found an old, skinny man, stalking them with a pair of binoculars from the top of the tallest tree on the island - He had a perfect view inside the house, through the window, and right at the two teens laying unconscious.

"An old man is The Sun?" Polnareff gaped at the prisoner. "I'm 60, not old!" the old man growled at the frenchie. "That's ancient!" Joseph glared at the silver haired idiot. "Tell us about your Stand." Avdol grabbed the enemy by his shirt, shaking him angrily. "Why should I?" he cackled like a maniac. "I got your strongest Stand users in my trap - And there's no way they'll find out how to get outta there!" "Wh-What?!" Polnareff gasped. "There's no way! Jotaro and Kisara are super smart, they'll find a way!" "Like hell they will!" his grin was splitting his face in two."Only if they kill themselves like Romeo and Juliet, will they find the way out - Death!" Joseph punched the enemy in the face before roughing him up well, back to the house. "This is your Stand, isn't it? We'll burn it to hell, and watch you burn with it." "If you want to burn your grandson, that is." the Sun was in no way afraid. "If anything happens to this book, they'll die, but I won't." Polnareff and Avdol immediately protested, but Joseph stopped them. "THIS book? You mean there's another book?" the witty man asked skeptically. "But of course! How else are those two lovebirds supposed to find their path in life, between the words of my tragic fairy tale?" he giggled creepily. "I know what your Stand, Hermit Purple, can do, Joseph Joestar. You have a TV - Why don't you turn that book into a movie? I bet these youngsters with focus problems would never bother reading. That's how our generation goes."

Joseph used the purple thorny veins to move the book in front of the TV, where they all gathered to watch the movie. They couldn't even believe their eyes when they saw the otherwise pixelated TV screen turn into two split images - One showing Kisara, and the other, Jotaro... But they looked... So odd. The four watchers didn't even hear the off-comments from that bastard; They were entirely attentive to the poor victims inside the TV, confused and very much afraid.

On one hand, Jotaro was dressed in the military outfit of a general, a sword at his hip, and attended by his servants; It was the first time either of them saw him so genuinely confused and uncomfortable, and without that hat of his to hide his expression away, he seemed to scare everyone around with his hardened frown and deep glare.

"Poor Master Kujo, I can't believe he was forced to marry such a useless demon-woman.""I heard they never even spent the night together. What's the point of a marriage if it isn't consummated? You can't make an heir out of nothing.""She's not even that pretty, and her blood isn't royal. She's just some stupid common girl - What the hell did he see in her? Is she a kitsune? A seductress?""They're just going to divorce anyway, so what's the point?""No man would ever like such a scary and opinionated harpy as his wife. They don't make good mothers."

"Shut the fuck up!" the watchers jumped in their skin as Jotaro's booming voice darkly silenced everyone; He was so angry that even they, from the other side of the screen, felt it. "Master Kujo, please calm down. It is a bad omen to get angry on the day of the funeral." one of the servants bowed to him. "Your mother and grandfather would have wanted you to smile. For them." Jotaro looked at the man flabbergast, but said nothing; He just allowed himself to be guided to the destination. He seemed to be taken to a joint funeral of sorts.

On the other side of the screen, Kisara was being dressed in a straight plain black kimono, the top of her hair demurely pinned, as the other cascaded down her back. Unlike Jotaro, who exuded confidence and anger, Kisara almost looked like a trembling kitten in the rain. So scared, so petrified and so... Submissive?

"Poor Lady Kisara, being forced to marry that scary man. He may have wealth and status in the army, but he is a half-breed.""Yes, I heard no woman can stand him because he's so cruel.""And I heard he abuses the women until they run away from him.""Really I heard he has some weird fetishes. He may be handsome, but he's a pervert with no qualms."

"I fear for Lady Kisara's life, once that beast decided to bed her."

"Will you please quiet your gossiping already? You're giving me a headache." though not loud and hostile as the boy, Kisara's tone was cold and edging. "Lady Kisara, please calm down. It is a bad omen to get angry on the day of the funeral." one of the servants bowed to her. "Your brother and friend would have wanted you to smile. For them." Kisara looked at the woman petrified, but said nothing; She just allowed himself to be guided to the destination. She seemed to be taken to a joint funeral of sorts.

"Ohhh my goooooood!!" Joseph was the only one able to shriek loudly upon seeing his grave and his name carved on the stone - A second time. It was a funeral for four people.

Joseph Joestar. Kujo Holly. Kakyoin Noriaki. Jean-Pierre Polnareff.

"What the hell is going on?! We ain't dead!" Polnareff glared at the old man. "I made it so that those who don't touch the book are seen as dead." he cackled. "Of course, I thought Avdol was dead so I didn't bother; And what better way to make it painful for Joestar and Kujo, than to show them their precious Holly very much dead?" it took three people to keep Joseph away from outright beating the hell out of that fucker. "Let go of me! Imma rip him to shreds! That's my little girl!" poor Joseph was getting angrier with each of The Sun's ugly cackles. "Mr. Joestar, calm down! Your daughter is in good hands right now - But if we kill him now, there's no way of telling what might happen to Jotaro and Kisara!" Avdol tried to speak some sense into him. "Mr. Joestar, please - We have to find out what's with the other book." Noriaki's voice, though just as terrified for the life of his sister, remained somewhat grounded. "I want to save Kisara as much as you want to save Jotaro."

As soon as the two teenagers were taken to the funeral, they bumped into each other, and their eyes got wide with shock; Though Jotaro was completely stunned and unable to react, Kisara had thrown herself into his arms. "I'm so happy to see you. I was so scared. So alone." she looked like such a little, inoffensive kitten in his arms.

"It's fine. We're together now." he muttered, holding her a little awkwardly. "I can't take Star out." "I can't take Marilyn either." she said. "JoJo - Do you realise where we are?" "Not entirely." he grumbled. "It's like we were sent back in time." "This looks like the Meiji Restoration. Just a little after the defeat of the Shinsengumi." her fingers dug deep into his sleeves. "The Tokugawa Shogunate was ended, and the Imperialist regime was brought back. The borders are open for export and import, especially with the Americans, and the Western part of Europe; All kinds of people and culture mold together, everyone speaks a different language, wear different clothes, eat different things." the girl gulped, looking up into the boy's aquamarine eyes, which showed only a fraction of what he was feeling hearing everything Kisara was saying. "JoJo. This is a time of war, without being real war. People are killed for no reason, and the culprits don't go to jail under political pretense." "In other words, anything can kill us." Jotaro earned a solemn nod. "Did you see whose funeral we are attending?"

Kisara looked down, before stealing a look at the graves; As soon as she saw her brother's picture and name, she buried her face in Jotaro's chest and cried. "Even if it's fake, I can't take it." "Yeah... Me neither." he sighed, seeing the picture of his mum and grandpa. How eerie.

They remained quiet for the duration of the funeral, holding hands as a silent sense of comfort, before they were to finally return home - His home. It wasn't until the servants started gossiping again that they realised they were supposedly married, in this scenario. "So they were talking about you?!" the looked at each other weirdly. "But they said you're scary and abusive." Kisara blurted out at the same time as Jotaro scoffed. "They said you're an opinionated harpy." they had to look away and stifle their chuckle. "As long as it's you..." the girl smiled demurely. "... I suppose it's fine." the boy seemed content with the idea.

In spite of how creepy the idea of attending such a funeral, JoJo and Kisara found domestic bliss somewhat... Happy. As they investigated the house, they would speak about tidbits regarding this Meiji era, and how to get out of this book. Clearly, a book has pictures or words, it has a plot and a narrative line they must follow; And once they reach its end, they will go back in the real world. Right? They weren't sure how time passed in the real world, but hopefully, they weren't wasting as much time out there, as inside the story; By the time they explored his mansion, it was already late into the night, so they had to sleep.

"Is it okay if I sleep with you?" Kisara asked, a little shy, leaning on the frame of his bedroom door. "I'm... Scared of being alone." "Who knows what kind of weird rumours we'll hear tomorrow if my wife doesn't sleep with me." he chuckled, patting the other side of the bed. "Or maybe they'll think you're some kind of yuurei." The girl couldn't help but scoff in amusement and get in bed. "To hell with their gossips. I just want to get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Jotaro hummed in agreement. "I just hope the others don't touch the book and get here." he affirmed. "My only faith is in your brother. If Kakyoin doesn't get us outta here, we're screwed." "Wanna know a secret?" Kisara puffed lightly. "I always think people are trying to call out to me also when they call our family name. It's kinda weird." "I noticed that." Jotaro smirked a little. "You always twitch to turn a little on the side." they laughed a little, before silence took over them. "Do you think I'm scary?" Kisara shook her head. "Intimidating?" "Maybe a little, at a first glance." she admitted. "You're always frowning. But I get it. I wear my hat because I'm incredibly photosensitive. At the slightest light discomfort, my face is contorted." "Like when Polnareff stole your hat to pick fruit and Kakyoin had to give you his sunglasses because you were agonising dramatically." the girl grinned at his recollection of the memory. "At least we got some nice fruit, from my noble sacrifice." she looked so content like that, recalling memories with their friends... Cuddled in his arms so cosy. "I always thought people could tell what I feel from the way I express myself. Guess I was wrong." Jotaro concluded. "But you always know what I'm thinking. How's that?" "I'm an Esper, of course." she only giggled, seeing his ridiculous eyebrow raise. "I can read people well, that's all. I am intuitive, and especially with people I've been around so long, it's pretty easy to understand their intentions." "Do you think mum knows I'm out there, risking my life to save her?" he asked. "Because even though I was the shittiest son in the fucking world, I care for her more than anything." "I think she knows that, yeah." Kisara reassured him, leaning up on her elbows to caress his troubled face. "Your mum is an Esper." "I bet she is. A fucking Angel." he gruffed, a little melancholic. His smile fell, and he looked up into Kisara's green eyes. "I'm pretty pathetic, aren't I?" "I never once thought that. In fact, I think you're pretty amazing." she shifted her position to stay on her knees besides him, cupping his face. "You are just a boy of 17, traveling the world and fighting all sorts of people who are trying to kill you, just to save your mum. There's not many who would do that." "I'm not alone in that." he pointed out quickly. "Everyone needs some help sometimes. There's no shame in that." she grinned. "Besides - Two months all alone on the road, with no one to chat with? Boring as hell. Imagine how lame it would be without Polnareff and his stupid jokes." she exclaimed with encouragement. "You're my brother's first and only friend, you know? He's always so happy to chat about your common interests with you. He's the happiest I've ever seen him before." she continued with her tender tone. "And I bet Mr. Joestar is happy too, to get this opportunity of bonding with his grandson. I doubt he got many occasions to see you prior to this, considering he lives on the other side of the world." "And now that we've finally got Avdol back, we've got someone to talk some sense into us when we need it." the boy nodded his head lightly.

"JoJo." the girl leaned down to kiss his forehead. "You can cry if you want. It's just the two of us here." her warm voice filled him with bliss and comfort. "You are just a man. You don't need to keep strong all the time. It's alright to show what you're feeling. It's alright to cry. You're not any weaker for doing that." the way his precious gem-eyes widened with shock hearing those words was so vulnerable and endearing. Jotaro slowly got in a sitting position, looking down at the beautiful girl trying so hard to shield and mend his throbbing heart, as if it was a treasure of sorts. "Why do you try so hard for me? I don't get it. You're a stranger to me, we only just met a few weeks ago. You don't need to treat me with the same care you do your brother." "Are we not friends? Have you not already done the same for me already?" his silence was an answer also. "I care for you as much as you care about me, JoJo." she gently cradled his head into her chest, allowing him to embrace her tightly; She could feel the soft trembles of his body, as some tears escape his eyes, and fall down her neck. "Until your mum gets better, let me be your safe haven, JoJo. You can rely on me with anything you need." was this why women were so special? Because with a single touch, a single word, they can turn sorrow into content and desperation into hope? ... Hatred into love, even? "Let me protect you, JoJo. Tonight, tomorrow, and any time you need me. I will always be here for you."

Though the night felt short, it was fulfilling, for Jotaro now felt so much lighter, having expelled all of his worries and burdening emotions weighting his heart and soul so painfully hard; And now, at least, he was certain of one thing - Once he saved his mother, he's going to introduce her to Kisara. Suzie, Holly and Kisara, the only three women he will ever love in his life. The next morning they served breakfast together - Though he was dressed in the same general outfit, black and gold and with that sword at his hip, Kisara was in the prettiest, most expensive-looking pink kimono with golden embroidery, and her innocent cuteness was only highlighted by the flowery accessories in her hair. Their breakfast was served in complete silence; Not only was Jotaro feeling beyond awkward for overflowing his emotions so easily, but he also slept in a girl's arms. She didn't seem to be uncomfortable or bashful in any way; On the contrary, rather. What a genuine woman.

Their plan was to go to her own mansion, in search for some clues - Yet they got stopped by a frantic man who threw himself at their feet. The watchers realised it was the character of the Stand user. "Master! Please, help me, Master!" the man clinged onto Jotaro's legs. "They're gonna kill me if I don't find someone fast!" "What's going on?" Kisara asked, sharing a worried look with her husband. "I run a geisha house, you see - But the girl the Americans requested has fallen ill, and there's no one else who speaks English!" he was shaking violently with fear. "Those businessmen are going to have my throat!"

"How'd you know she knows English?" Jotaro grumbled suspiciously. "The lady looks like a foreigner, and based on her outfit and jewels, I assumed she is a noblewoman." sighing, Kisara placed her hand gently over Jotaro's biceps, gesturing him to lean over. "I think this is our story's plot turn. Maybe we should take it and see what happens from here." she suggested naively. "This isn't gonna end well." he muttered. "But I think you're right." "What may we help you with?" the girl asked. "It's really nothing difficult, I swear! I just need a pretty lady to pour sake for the guests and maybe play an instrument. I swear, nothing else - They won't even touch or look at you!" "Only if I stay in the same room." Jotaro gruffed with authority. "Yes, yes, of course - Americans love eye-candies like you." the groveling man nodded vigorously. "Look at your eyes - You're not pureblood Japanese, are you?" "That's not really for you to know, is it?" he threw the man off his leg. "Move."

The old man took them to a most luxurious Geisha house; JoJo and Kisara looked around subtly for any trap, but found none. With so many ladies around, a commotion was going to be easy to pull off. "Will you be okay?" the boy muttered in her ear, his hand unconsciously raising to move a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've done this before, remember? This should be piece of cake." this heart skipped a bit, watching that lovely smile and the soft pink blush caressing her cheeks. She looked other-wordly, so beautiful, so perfect that he was sure there was no word in the dictionary to describe properly the way she was making him feel. Was it the same for her, he wondered. Was she as as thoroughly in love with him? Was she seeing him as attractive too?

As they agreed, Jotaro entered the chamber first, going to lean back on the corner and pretend he doesn't even exist; And though he was supposed to keep an analytical eye open to investigate the situation, he was lost in the beauty of the maiden before him; The girl to whom his married in this fantasy world. He couldn't help but wonder if this happened because his heart yearned for her without as much as realising - But no, probably not, that sounds far too deep for a Stand power.

Kisara knelt on the cushion with such demure grace. "Good afternoon, Master. My name is Kisara, and I will be providing entertainment for you today." she bowed with such princess subtlety, and her voice was so soft and feminine, yet it somehow hid any emotions. "Ha! The old man sure provided today!" the Japanese businessman smirked, raising his cup. "Come pour us some sake." "Japan truly has some outstanding beauties." one of the Americans chuckled. "I've been around for a few weeks but I haven't seen any woman with hair and eyes of such colour! Hey, lady, do you have European ancestry?" Jotaro was quite surprised to see she wasn't answering or even raising her eyes to look at the loud men; Instead, she was kneeling by everyone's side, pouring them sake with such delicacy that it was lost on these vulgar fucks. "Oi! You deaf? Why don't you answer me, woman? How disrespectful!" "That's a fine woman right here." the Japanese one hummed in approval. "Unlike your loud, obnoxious wenches, our women know their place. They hardly ever talk, just like pretty porcelain dolls, you see. Japanese women don't nag you endlessly, and they don't even get mad when you cheat on them!" Jotaro wanted to rip them all to shreds. How dare they speak so disgustingly about the women who take care of them, anyway? If they were all alone, they'd go to shit. "Is that so? Then I can curse and insult her, and she won't even bat an eye?" the American hollered a laugh. "Hey, missy! I want to rip that pretty dress of yours and fuck you on the table, in front of everyone." Kisara's passive smile hadn't even twitched. "I'll fuck a bastard in your womb for your husband to raise!" she rose again, going to the loud man to pour him some alcohol. "Or maybe I'll steal you away to America and make you my mistress?" her fingers weren't trembling from all those lecherous comments. Fascinating. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU, YOU LITTLE WHORE!"

As the American grabbed Kisara, manhandling her painfully into his lap, his grip on her arm no doubt close to creating bruises, the Japanese businessman had to grab the American's attention - Lucky him, otherwise Jotaro would have taken that damn sword and made him into mince meat for daring to touch his woman. ... Did he just really think that? 'His' woman? He's going crazy.

"You don't touch a Geisha." the Japanese man continued with a string of insults that the American couldn't understand. "Why not? She's pretty, I wanna fuck her." Jotaro couldn't even imagine the amount of strength and self-restraint she must be holding to not react or even tense up under the perverted, rough touch of an old fuck. "She's a Geisha, not a courtesan. You are in my country, so respect our culture. Nobody is allowed to touch Geishas. Let her go." the Japanese continued. "If she accepts your advances and pay, it's fine, but if she doesn't, you don't touch her." The American growled, pushing the girl off his lap, watching as she knelt back on the cushion once again, looking with the empty eyes of a princess doll. "Fine. Hey, woman, you understand me, don't ya?" he was so fucking drunk, even Jotaro could feel his reeking breath. "I'll pay you well; I can give you diamonds and jewellery and expensive clothes." she said nothing. "Answer me already, you nasty bitch!" "A woman must first count the amount of words she must speak, before doing so." Kisara's words made the Japanese man smirk proudly. "The rules of woman etiquette state that a woman must never speak more than the man." Jotaro wanted to bash his skull against a brick wall hearing such aberrations spewing from her pretty mouth - Who the fuck came up with that ruke anyway? There's no man who wouldn't want to hear Kisara's pretty voice; In fact, he wanted to hear it all the time, night and day and in between also. He was addicted to her voice, and like hell would he ever tell her to speak less - She's already barely speaking; And she never engages in small talk anyway, like Polnareff and his grandpa do often; Hearing her voice is a precious gem. "Do that calculus well, missy; I want a satisfactory answer." the American grumbled angrily. "I am married to a most wonderful man. I could never imagine even as much as looking at another." Jotaro's breath hitched in his throat, seeing that otherwise passive and empty smile turn into such a glowing look when speaking of him. His head was spinning a little. "You don't get it, do you? I'm the richest man in America - There's no way some rice-lover with a dick smaller than the chopsticks he eats with can offer you more than I can!" the American earned no reply. "How dare you ignore me again?!" "The Phoenix only soars the Celestial Heavens with her Golden Dragon." though the American had no clue what she was speaking of, the Japanese wanted the woman before him for himself. She was going to become his mistress. "And the Golden Dragon does not concern himself with the earthly chattering of mice." it took a lot out of Jotaro not to smirk smugly; The Phoenix and the Dragon, huh? Even he knew she was referring to the symbolism of the Emperor and Empress, ruling the empire together. What a lovely and poetic way of confessing her feelings for him, whilst also shading the fuck outta that lecherous jerk. "HOW DARE YOU--" but as the American attempted to grab the girl again, the Japanese businessman got roughly held by the shoulder and pushed back on his cushion. "If I have to warn you a second time not to act like a brat throwing a temper tantrum, I promise you, the deal is through and I will make sure you get deported." Jotaro couldn't help but notice the dark aura surrounding the Japanese businessman; It was him, the real threat, not that loud mouth. "Lady Kisara, if you would be so kind, will you play a song for us? It is clear that your beauty drunkened Mr. Howard, and is in need of some calming of his mind."

Kisara bowed her head demurely at the man, before getting up and looking around the room; There was a Koto on the ground, but she didn't know how to play that, and there was no flute or zither around; Well, in this time, she was pretty sure the Japanese hated the Chinese, so no wonder there were no such instruments around. Thankfully, a grand piano was placed close to Jotaro, and she smiled. She knew just what to sing.

Fill my heart with song And let me sing forever more You are all I long for All I worship and adore

In other words Please, be true In other words I love you

Kisara was sure Jotaro knew the song; Frank Sinatra sung it in '64, and with his dad's music preference and the romantic undertones, he was sure to have heard it around the house. The American huffed in anger; How dare that woman reject him with such disrespect? But the Japanese was satisfied; The perfect woman had shown herself to him, demure, quiet, beautiful, graceful, intelligent, eloquent and artistic - And best of all, she looked absolutely untainted and innocent, like a pretty cherry blossom in spring. Miss Kisara was going to be his. He wasn't sure the symbols used to write her name, but with a name like that, they must be only the superlative; Empress and Cherry blossom, Goddess and Beloved, Hope and Flower; or maybe even Radiance and Star. Either way, she was perfect.

But Jotaro wasn't thinking of all that; In fact, he was hardly thinking at all. Gazing at her from the corner of his eyes, he could see her side profile and the tender smile on her face as he sang that love song. Was it for him, he wondered. He sure hoped so. There was even a gleam of emotion in her eyes, and she must be fighting hard to stop herself from wavering, as she did when playing the flute for him. It wasn't the time and place for overflowing feelings displayed, yet he could feel it all. Her fingers caressed the clavier with such elegance, and the melody sounded like it was embracing his soul with so much love and adoration. He couldn't understand how she was doing it, but she was. Gods save him, he had fallen so hard for her, yet he doubted he could ever be the same again.

The meeting ended and the American and Japanese came to a rather nice deal; Yet although the foreigner left the room, the other one didn't. "Well done, both of you. You especially, little dove." the man towered over her, picking her chin roughly and forcing her to look at him. "The old man did a splendid job, providing me with a mistress." "Let go of her." Jotaro warned him in a threatening voice. "Let go? Why would I? She is my gift, don't you know?" the Japanese looked at the confused frown on the boy's face. "Ah, I get it! The old man fooled you, didn't he? You thought this was just a favour you were doing for an old man? How foolish, how naive!" he grinned lecherously, pulling the girl into his arms. "All the pretty ladies provided at my business deals become my mistresses." "Why do you need so many women, then?" Jotaro stepped forward, only for the man to take out a pistol, cock it and place it at her temple. "I get bored easily, you see. Women are like plucked flowers - They wilt eventually, they lose their charm, and become stale. I bore rather fast of the same reactions all over again. The same screams, the same thrills - Even the most princess-like woman, as quiet as she was, squealed like a pig roasted alive when I had my way with her." he sighed dramatically. "But I have high hopes for this one - She hadn't even twitched a muscle when that moron grabbed her! I knew she was the perfect little angel for me." "You are sick in the head." Jotaro spat with disgust. "You're her husband, aren't you?" the man smirked cruelly. "If you want your girl to live, well - Give me your sword and leave." "Do as he says, JoJo." Kisara's eyes hid a secret message; And Jotaro complied. "I don't want you to be hurt, my darling." "Haha, what a woman! Even with a gun to her head, she still cares for her husband more than her own life!" he cackled, shifting the gun towards the young man. "Sword. Now." "Take it, you sick fuck."

Jotaro stepped just in reach, the barrel of the fun to his forehead as he took out the sword with the scabbard inched towards the girl; And with perfect sync, he wrestled the gun away while Kisara grabbed the sword and killed the perverted man, falling limp to the ground in a pool of his own blood. "Great. We are criminals. Now what?" "The old man got us here for a plot reason; We were supposed to be here. Maybe there's some clue in this room?"

With a nod of agreement, they searched the place up and down, until they found a hidden room behind a bookshelf; JoJo pushed it out of the way; It was small like a cupboard, but placed on a pedestal, was a book looking just as the one they touched. Eagerly, they both touched it at the same time, thinking they'd be teleported back to their world --

Nothing happened.

"Fuck." they both groaned. "So, what do we do now?" Kisara asked as Jotaro picked the book, opening it; He skimmed through it before urging the girl to sit down with him. "This book has our story written." he pointed to the words on the paper. "Then let's skip to the end and see what's up." but the ending unveiled left them somber. "So... You die protecting me, and I kill myself from grief." he scoffed, slamming the book shut. "Bloody likely." "If our fates are pre-determined, then perhaps, to escape the book, we have to defy what's already written. We stray from what's already written, make our own story." they looked up at the ceiling, leaning onto one another. "Not gonna be easy." he spat. "The book says the authorities are going to come over before we can escape." the implication that one of them must sacrifice themselves for the other to live was outlandish. "Do you know what that means?" Kisara shook her head vigorously; He knew her gesture was one to show she was unable to accept the faux reality they were living in. "I can't take you dying on me." she said. "Maybe there's some hidden button around, some escape tunnel - Anything at all." "I already checked. There's none. We are trapped here, and time is ticking." Jotaro got up to his feet. "I'll lead them away from you; Wouldn't want a stray bullet to pierce the wall and get you." he said. "You can't -- JoJo, no!" she shot up, clinging onto him fearfully. "You can't go! You'll die!" he nodded his head in acceptance. "I can't do it alone! I can't do this without you! Please, don't go!" "You're smart, stop whining." he cupped her face tenderly, smiling at her. "I know you're afraid, but you can do it without me. You just have to live. That's my intuition - And we both defy fate. Just live." "But I don't want to live without you." his expression softened, wiping away the tears with his thumbs; He absolutely hated seeing her cry so sorrowfully, his heart always broke painfully, one piece for each of her tears. "I am afraid, JoJo. I'm afraid without you." "Be strong - For me and for Kakyoin. Be strong just a little more, and when we're outta here, you won't have to be again. I promise." he kissed her forehead softly, a lucky charm from the heart, a most tender confession. "Kisara - Promise me you'll fight hard to return back to the real world. Your brother especially needs you the most." he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "And so do I." "Okay." she whimpered, her body trembling softly in his arms. "Please take care of yourself and everyone out there; Find the Stand user and figure out a way to get me out of here. I don't know how long I can bare staying in the awful story." "I bet the other have already found something. There's no way anyone can outwit Kakyoin, especially when it comes to your safety." the loud noise coming from a multitude of people slamming open the front door of the Geisha house signified Jotaro's incoming death. "Live." with one last promise, Jotaro urged the girl to crouch down and hide behind the pedestal while he goes out of the hiding room, quickly hiding the door with the bookshelf; It wasn't too heavy that Kisara won't be able to push once things quiet down a little and make her escape.

"JOTARO, NO!" Joseph fell to his knees in shock, watching his grandson slice the many soldiers away as he kept getting gunned down with pistols, until he slumped to the ground, dead, and in a pool of his own blood.

They all remained quiet, except for the old villain whose maniac laugh resounded boomingly through the whole island. "I KILLED JOTARO! I KILLED JOTARO!" this time, it was Kakyoin who beat up the old fuck.

"You killed who, exactly?" leaning smugly on the door frame, Jotaro smirked down at the perplex old man. "JOTARO!" everyone gasped his name in shock. "You died! We saw you die!" "I was supposed to kill myself, but I didn't - I screwed up the book, so I lived." he huffed, grabbing the old man by the shirt. "Now - How do I get her outta there? Say it now, or I'll beat you until you can't hold your piss and shit anymore, and you'll need a straw to eat." they've never seen Jotaro so angry, so malicious; Though after the tender moments they saw between him and Kisara, it was only understandable. "I- I have no clue! I didn't even think it was possible to escape - I... I'm just as shocked as all of you!" the old man trembled violently with bewilderment. "You told the girl to live - That book is going to continue writing itself until it has no more pages... But I have no clue what happens when there's no more pages left!" "What if she destroys the book?" the old man shrugged, just as unknowledgeable. "You're fucking useless. I'll kill you as soon as she gets outta there."

Jotaro threw the tied up villain roughly onto the ground before sitting in front of the TV - He cringed, hiding his annoyed face. "Don't tell me you saw everything that happened." they nodded quietly. "Of course you fucking did." he had the sudden urge to slam his head into the wall until the bricks shatter, or his head does. "Neither of you did anything to be embarrassed about. Don't worry." with Kakyoin squeezing his shoulder and smiling at him, sitting next to him with some food to share, it almost felt like a blessing from a brother to his sister's boyfriend. "Yare Yare..."

But none of them could stand seeing the little lady shaking and crying with fear from the evilness of the killing outside, or the simple fact that Jotaro had gone to a sure death. She waited and waited until she heard no more noise, only the eerie silence of a graveyard weighting down heavily.

Fearful, she crawled from her hiding spot and pushed aside the large bookshelf, only to see the swiss-cheese like body of her dear friend and crush, her faux husband, laying limp onto the ground. She fell on her knees besides him; Jotaro especially couldn't bare to see it; He reached for the remote to mute the TV, unwilling to hear the wailing of the sobbing girl cradling his body in her arms, getting painted in his blood, all over her face and that pretty kimono of hers. It was gut-wrenching and blood-curling. It was dreadful.

"JoJo, please, don't die on me! Wake up! Please, wake up. I'm scared, I'm terrified -- I need someone to take care of me; I can't stand being so alone; JoJo. Jotaro, wake up. You can't die. Please..."

The ladies of the Geisha house all gathered around, and seeing the bloodshed, they called the doctors and authorities; They quickly rescued the girl, hiding her away; She was a grief-stricken, hysterical wife who just lost her husband in such a horrible accident; She needed to be protected and brought back home. They cleaned her up and gave her a change of clothes just as glamorous, and offered to take her home; They just needed to know her name, and they knew where to take her, to her mansion; Well, it was supposed to be her family's home, but apparently, they're all dead or abroad, so she's the only one there. Even the servants only seem to appear randomly, out of thin air, but where they were hosted, she had no clue.

She was standing all alone, in front of a huge mansion. "This is gonna be fun." she muttered under her breath, shakily touching the door handle and entering her temporary home. She had to thoroughly investigate it from top to bottom. "Anyone home?" no answer. Of course not. Sighing, she kept her back glued to the wall and slowly and cautiously made her way towards the kitchen to grab a knife. It must have looked so comical for anyone watching, how overly aware she was, with a big ass kitchen knife in her hands, searching from room to room, in every wardrobe, every cupboard, every shelf and drawer even, for any intruder. Hilarious.

When everything was checked, she returned to the kitchen and slumped down on the kitchen chair. "Goodness, this is awful." she sighed, throwing the book on the table. "Stupid book, stupid Stand, stupid everything." she was already losing her mind from the uncertainty of every second. She opened the book and read the re-written story. "Suicide from grief? Hear that. Stupid book." she leaned back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling. "What do I do now? There was no clue... Nothing at all... Except for this." she took out the picture frame from inside her large sleeve pocket; Her fingers gently traced the glass of the picture depicting her and Jotaro on their wedding. "We look kinda cute together. What do you know." she smiled softly. "I hate that paper hat, you can barely see my hair; But he looks so good in traditional clothes. He's so pretty." she cradled the frame dearly to her chest.

The watchers could only witness Kisara's descend into madness which loneliness and fear caused; From crying through the night, barricading the door of her bedroom with the bookshelf, to cursing that electricity wasn't yet brought to all houses, otherwise, she'd have all lights on in the mansion. She didn't know why no servants were coming over, but it was dubious. Was she supposed to live like this, until the damn book was done writing itself? She had no clue.

One day, she went by the graveyard; Jotaro's grave was right next to her brother's. How eerie. She couldn't help but wonder if he was able to get out alive and well. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked desperately, hugging her knees to her chest. "I've got no ideas left. I'm going crazy. I'm too dumb for this abstract shit. Just get me out of here already!" she whined pitifully, before falling back on the grass. She looked up at the clouds slowly passing by, and she let the tears fall down her eyes; But she didn't sob anymore. She felt devoid of any reaction. "I'm not living. I'm surviving." she noted. "But how am I supposed to live? I don't freaking get it! I'm too damn stupid for this!" she held the frame to her chest, sighing. "And you just had to leave me all alone to deal with this mess. How selfish." she found comfort only in talking by herself. "There's no pain for those who die, but the living bare the burden of a broken heart for as long as they have left on earth." it's almost as if she was scolding him, through the TV. "If only any of you could give me a sign and show me the way out..."

The kitchen was filled with booze, surprisingly, most of it her favourite type; So what was left during grieving and insanity, but to drink away your sorrows? "Well - I turned 18, didn't I? Even the Gods can't strike me down for my sins." she chuckled, downing a glass of red wine; Her tension was going to go through the roof no doubt, but it was the sweetest drink in the house. "How does one live, anyway? I'm stuck in a house, a hundred years into the past, into a sick story that writes itself." she groaned, balancing idly on the hind legs of the chair. "I've exhausted all options that crossed my mind. To hell with all this - What do I know? Maybe I really am too dumb to get out alive." she scoffed, pouring more wine into her crystal glass. "Cheers to being dumb and alone, left to die in one of the absolute worst times." she got up suddenly, waltzing around the room aimlessly towards the window. "Maybe I should try being a Geisha. Would that count as living?" she hummed softly. "No, I can't do that. I have to start as a Maiko. It takes years to become a Geisha - Stupid me." the window wasn't budging open. "... What the hell is going on?" just yesterday she had the window open; What happened?

With a quick roundcheck, she realised that not only the windows, but the door also weren't opening. How awfully ominous. Was the book coming to an end? Was she going to die soon? "Well then - Even if I'm going to die, the show must go on!" despite the fearful tremble of her heart, Kisara rushed up to her room and changed her appearance completely; Her long hair was curled and with no accessory on it, her make up was done the way she saw Marilyn Monroe, and she put on a form-fitting dress of a light-pink colour. She almost looked like her stand. "Even the dresses are annoying. How can I perform on Broadway when there things are holding me down?" grinning shamelessly, she ripped the sleeves of her dress and made a few cuts where the seaming was most tight. "If I'm going to die, at least I'll die looking like a Broadway Star!"

Rushing back to the dining room she refilled her wine glass a fourth time, and with each song she performed, she had some more wine, to the point she wasn't sure if it was she, twirling, or her vision. From Marilyn Monroe's 'Diamonds are a girl's best friend' to Marlene Dietrich's 'Lili Marlene' and Edith Piaf's most famous 'La vie en rose', Kisara sang her heart out, with the most spectacular smile on her face - A smile that put the flowers to shame, and all the actresses would be jealous of her elegance and beauty. "I wonder if Polnareff would sing French songs with me." she chuckled, throwing the glass with wine into the fireplace, making the flame rage capriciously. "I miss performing with Nori. We were always the best duo. All the theater kids hated us. I wonder how he's doing." her grin was bittersweet, yet incredibly tipsy.

She grabbed the book and quickly threw it in the fire. "I'll burn the book before it can write my ending." she was pretty damn proud of her logic. "HEY, JOJO!" she yelled up at the covered skies from inside her home. "THIS IS YOUR FAVOURITE SONG, ISN'T IT? IT'S PRETTY FITTING FOR AN EMOTIONAL DEATH SCENE IN A TRAGEDY, ISN'T IT?" she chuckled carefree, as she grabbed another wine glass. "I'll go out in style, baby!"

I cry to the alleyway Confess all to the rain But I lie, lie straight to the mirror The one I've broken to match my face

Kisara could feel the temperature rising, yet she wasn't sure if it was the consequence of throwing the book in the roaring fireplace, or simply the physical effort in combination with the vasodilatatory effect of the red wine.

The trash fire is warm But nowhere safe from the storm And I can't bear to see what I've let me be So, wicked and worn

It was getting hotter and hotter, and harder to breath. The end was close, and it was evident from the dark grey smoke beginning to flood the chamber, and everything around.

So, as I write to you, yeah Of what is done and to do, yeah Maybe you'll understand and won't cry for this man 'Cause low man is due

Kisara looked out through the window, and she laughed - It wasn't just the mansion on fire, but the whole world which she could see with her eyes; The story world was being engulfed in flames, and it will turn to ashes along with her. How fitting of an apocalyptic ending, for this shitty script they were forced to play in.

So, low the sky is all I see All I want from you is forgive me So, you bring this poor dog in from the rain Though he just wants right back out again

She could barely keep singing for her lungs were burning; She kept coughing, and her mind was telling her to run the hell away, to save herself - But where? If her Fight-or-Flight reflex wished her to survive, it better give her a good enough idea, otherwise she was content falling to her knees and embracing death through suffocation - Although she thought it a fost wretched death, dying in the blaze of your own home. She looked up at the ceiling, her arms extended laterally and she was grinning and crying, but it wasn't out of fear or anguish, but from the smoke stinging at her eyes. Her make up must be a mess; Too bad it wasn't waterproof. She must look like a trashy racoon.

My eyes seek reality My fingers seek my veins

Was it a song about a homeless deadbeat of a man, or about a suicidal one? No one truly knew, yet the genius of Metallica was never lost on her, and clearly, not on Jotaro either, if he could boldly claim it to be his favourite rock song. She wished she had the privilege of cutting her wrists and letting her blood fall into ribbons, to end it quicker and painless, just like falling asleep; Alas, her eyes were shutting close by themselves, and she fell to the ground, laying rather comfortably on the wooden floor.

"Please, forgive me." what a fitting end; A whisper left unheard through the deafening roar of the blazing brimstone and flames from the abyss to which the whole world succumbed to.

Before the TV screen turned to pixels, the Stardust Crusaders were left to watch as the flames seizes the whole display, with only some planks and wooden structure from the mansion shown falling in heaps; No doubt, crushing the young lady under their weight - If she wasn't already charred to hell by now. The old man, also, was subjected to a most interesting spontaneous combustion following Kisara's reckless book-destroying; And unlike her, he actually got roasted like the squealing pig that he was.

The room was silent, save for the TV static; Somehow, all members of the party were too afraid to go into the dormitory and see how the girl was doing. Was she still alive? Or was she in a coma? The uncertainty was killing them, but a most fatalistic answer terrified them just as much.

"Why is it that wherever the hell I wake up, I'm still alone? What a drag." the sound of a cough and a most hoarse voice snapped everyone out of their trance, and they hurried to the bedroom, where Kisara was holding her head, clearly in pain, based on the weak grimace on her face.

"KISARA!" Kakyoin and Polnareff jumped on the bed at the same time, hugging the hell out of the poor girl whose mind was still dizzy. "Take it easy, you two - She needs some space." Joseph grabbed the two young ones by the back of their neck, pulling them away from her. "It's good to see you again. Take it easy, you've been through enough." "Have I been gone long? It felt like an eternity." the girl was given some fresh water by Avdol, who encouraged her to hydrate herself properly, especially after what happened at the end. "A few hours. Just like a movie - And a shitty one at that." Jotaro's comment, as he leaned on the door frame, made her snap her eyes towards him. He looked in perfect shape, and with that smug smile on his face. "Hold up - How do you know about the fire?" his smirk only widened. "We, uh... We saw the whole movie, thanks to Mr. Joestar's Stand." the look of horror and embarrassed agony on her face greatly resembled that of Jotaro's, when he found that out. "... Maybe I should have just killed myself." her wry smile made her brother embrace her dearly. "I was worried out my mind. Not even the Stand user had any clue how his Stand was supposed to work; We had no idea what to do." he spoke his fears. "Yeah - How'd you know to destroy the book anyway?" Polnareff asked, only to see the girl grin. "I had no clue." she replied emptily. "It's the first time I win a gamble actually. I'm a pretty unlucky person, when it comes to gambling, so I'm surprised I actually won for once. Feels really damn good." The room was silent once again. "Same as me, I guess." Kisara shifted her eyes to Jotaro again. "You, shut up." she glared at him before wobbling out of the bed. "I haven't forgiven you for the shit you pulled-- Or the shit you put me through." "... Sorry?" wrong answer, Jotaro realised, as Kisara snatched his hat and started hitting him with it. "You think 'sorry' is going to absolve you of your sins, you heathen?!" it was hilarious for all watching, the short girl beating up the powerhouse that Jotaro is, with his own hat. "I'm going to kill you with my own two hands!" "Sure. You do that." the boy smiled, letting her flow out all of her frustrations and emotions; She's been through enough as it is. She deserved a break. Not only that, but Kisara was a loving and sensitive person; That damn Stand brought her to the edge of insanity - The loneliness, the guilt, the fear, the uncertainty, and death - All of them creeping onto her constantly, with anyone to comfort her, or even say a good word. It must have been hell.

It didn't take long for her to give up and let out a long exhale. "Okay, I'm too tired. Beat yourself with your hat." she returned the hat, shifting her exhausted gaze outside. "So... The Sun is defeated, right?" "Yes, he combusted spontaneously." Avdol replied somberly. "In theory, there's only High Priestess left, but she's a fearsome opponent. I heard her Stand can bind itself into anything mineral-based." "It's getting late. Kisara, are you fine to travel?" Joseph asked, realising the moon was long since risen on the sky. "Of course. Let us be on our way." she nodded her head in approval.

On their way to the submarine, Kisara hung behind a little, standing between her brother and Jotaro; Neither of them said anything, and when the girl held their hands, they gladly accepted it. Once inside the submarine, they kept their seats the very same way, and made sure no great noise would wake the girl up. She dearly needed the rest - And what better place to sleep, but between her two dearest people?

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#the devil's star #jjba #jjba x oc #jjba imagine #jjba x reader #kujo jotaro x kakyoin kisara #kujo jotaro x reader #kujo jotaro x oc #kujo jotaro

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happyandticklish · 2 years ago

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ok writing out my thoughts is a lot harder than i expected because there’s just so little scenarios that izzy would Let himself be vulnerable in.

but say there’s been a raid, and izzy’s been injured. nothing huge, but his hand’s a little messed up. he knows he should go to roach for anything like that but that would mean admitting to a weakness, no matter how small, which he just won’t do. he won’t do that! so he makes a bandage out of spare rags and continues with his duties fine enough, but then stupid fucking stede bonnet comes along always caring about people and fussing over something minor like that, and izzy would never willingly accept help from him of all people but apparently everyone is against him today and ed’s ordering him to let stede at least take a look and he can’t just. refuse. he’s a dick but an order is an order and he’s going to follow it. so he agrees (with tons of complaining and rolled eyes), and finds himself hours later in the captains shared cabin, sat on a chair that’s far too soft with a cup of tea on the table that’s far too hot, stede’s on some rant about how “silly” he is for risking an infection for his reputation, and izzy considers leaving, slamming the door in his face and going to bed because 1) they hate each other and 2) he’s FINE. but ed is sat opposite to them, because he knows izzy and stede well enough that there’s no way in hell he’ll leave them alone together or they’ll be duelling in less than 20 seconds, and izzy knows ed well enough to know that upsetting his little boyfriend is a one way ticket back to square one. so he stays, uncharacteristically quiet save for a few complaints here and there. he’s thankful that stede also doesn’t want him there any longer than he has to, because it goes by quite quickly. but somewhere between cleaning and redressing his hand, stede’s being too gentle. he hisses and yanks his hand back, and bonnet looks up at him almost sympathetically, muttering something about knowing it hurts but he needs to get it over and done with, so izzy places it back onto his lap and turns away, biting his gloved knuckle to stop himself making anymore embarrassing noises. and apparently he can’t have any peace today, because ed’s clearly caught on, and the stupid smirk he’s wearing hasn’t been seen since they were younger, before blackbeard and first mate hands, when it was all muffled giggles and late night tickle fights, and for some odd reason his chest aches a little, but he has no time to think about it because it really tickles, and stede’s gotta be stupider than he looks because there’s no way he’s not realised between all the scuffed boots and huffs and slightly red face, but he seems … oblivious? and izzy’s never been so happy for something to finally be over.

“come back tomorrow mate, yeah? just to make sure, can’t risk you being out of duty.” ed says innocently enough, but the shiteating grin he has makes him more nervous than he cares to admit, so he nods and leaves without even a thank you. and when he’s finally out of earshot, the first thing stede says once he stands is “ticklish?”, and ed cackles.

Dude

DUDE

This is such an incredible concept you can't just casually drop this in my inbox!!!

This flustered me a tad more than I'm willing to admit lol. Because as stated before, Izzy absolutely has ticklish hands, and I can completely see this scenario happening. And the bit about Izzy reminiscing on past tickle fights I am going to cry you cannot just bring shit like that up

And Stede's innocent little, "Ticklish?" at the end is so cute too. Because you know Stede would never use it against him but Ed for sure will and absolutely rats out the fact that Izzy doesn't mind it later on. Not that Stede isn't still hesitant for fear of Izzy killing him asjgjhjki

Thank you so, SO much for this, this is actually my new favorite thing in the world <3

#asks #tickle headcannon #steddyhands #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #blackstede #edizzy #headcannons #tickling #answered ask #sorry this took so long to respond to btw!!!#ive mean meaning to get to this for forever and kept forgetting it was in my inbox ;-;

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seelestia · 2 years ago

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THIS LITTLE- HOW DARE YOU- I FED YOU ALL THOSE STUPID MUSHROOMS- *voice muffled by zhongli's hands*

ahem. anyway. i'm watching you, you little short man (says me who is probably around the same height as wanderer)

been busy with work these days but i think it's starting to wind down so that's good!! i hope the hws and tests aren't stressing you too much... remember to hydrate and eat properly!!

hahahah uhhh yeah it is pretty daunting to use if you're a new user but once you get the hang of it you should be able to do stuff easily! for me i just use an inline database and insert my own properties. you can insert the db by clicking the + thingy on the page if you're on mobile, or typing / on desktop. and then you just add properties like characters (as multiple selections/tags) or status etc...

no yeah little guy's backstory is just... heartbreaking ;;; i do want to pat him and adopt him- i mean what-

zhongli is being as loving and good to me as usual <3

al haitham calls himself feeble but he effortlessly manages to pull me aside so i won't bonk myself into a random pole when i walk with my eyes on my phone, so...

NOT THE RUKKHASHAVA MUSHROOMS, HELP—

"touched a nerve, did i?" the wanderer stifles a pressing cackle that almost slips between his lips, "whatever, i'm leaving and i'm taking odelia with me. bye."

yayyyy!! i'm glad work is winding a little for you, we love a less stressed rin jie <3 since that is happening, that should be a sign you need to stop stocking up on caffeine for the time being because i'm concerned— we need to separate you from it. this is funny coming from someone who rarely consumes caffeine. does zhongli have to say abt this addiction. (/lh) and dw, i'm doing well with homework! lucky me the wanderer is good at cooking and has a knack for nagging surprisingly <3

OPENING NOTION IS LIKE WAKING UP TO A WHOLE TSUNAMI FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. (/j) i seeee! i think i might resort to putting my public wip list on carrd instead, but i'll deffo try my hand at notion again bcs things just happen to fascinate me more when i can't grasp it, hehe. your tips will help in the long run! tysmmm, rin jie >:3c

SOFT SPOT. SOFT SPOT DETECTED. let's zoom in on that real quick 🔍 (/lh) AND I AGREE!! smth abt the inversion of genesis quest really forgot it for me. although i wished they glossed a bit more on his first betrayal (ei), but i think they did a pretty good job overall! i love how he wasn't just let off the hook (even by himself) and how he resolved to 'atone', even if he knew that his sins could never be forgiven. THAT'S MY BABYYYY— ahem.

zhongli just can't help but be so soft for you 25/8, this is what happens when you feed him too many headpats— AND OOH, I CAN SEE IT!! what's ironic is that the both of you actually aren't looking ahead; he has a book in his hand and you're browsing on your phone BUT STILL. but still, he is the one who always manages to either put a hand on your shoulder or cushion your forehead from hitting the pole. "eyes on the road," says him. (/j)

#rin jie and caffeine... the feared duo. (/j)#i also just saw the stream AND NOOOO IT'S A WANDERER-LESS PATCH #i assumed you might've watched the stream with your brother??? hehehe #ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest rin! 💠#cw: selfships

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destructionmylofe · 2 years ago

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The TV continued droning on as you stared, mouth agape and remote just barely clinging to your fingertips, at the two figures who suddenly appeared in your living room. You had a plate of untouched nachos in your lap and you were in the process of choosing the backdrop to this magnificent feast when these two showed up unannounced and uninvited.

"Your debt is paid."

The taller of the two said only this to the other, less corporeal figure, then vanished through your front door. You wondered why it chose to leave through the door when it could've left through the walls or ceiling. How ordinary, yet extraordinary. You were now alone with the shade, who was now smirking and on the verge of breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Can I...help you?" You ask with some hesitation. You were sure you couldn't offer any assistance that this thing actually needed. With these words, the shade's composure crumbled and an eerie, raspy cackle filled the room. Your hair stands on end as you continue staring at the mirthful spectre.

After a moment, the shade's laughter fades and it wiped a nonexistent tear from what would have been its face, if it had one.

"You probably don't remember, but you once did a favor for me, and said it would only cost me my soul. The devil sure is gonna be pissed when He finds out you have His soul! Well, not His soul, but a soul that supposedly belongs to...you get the point. I think. Don't you?"

Your brow had drawn itself into a deep furrow. You had done favors for many people, and used this joke many times. You thought yourself very funny at the time. You still did, but you weren't close enough with the last person you said that to, and the disconcerted look that crossed their face had kept you from making that joke again. Not that it mattered. You mostly kept company with your television these days.

"Who are you? What did I do for you? What do I with you?"

The shade shook its head, still grinning. "It doesn't matter. I guess I'll just stay with you until you die. The Devil will get His due, but I've still got a few years out of his clutches yet." As soon as the shade finished speaking, the smell of rotten eggs filled your nose. You almost drop your plate of nachos as you retch from the hellish stench. A column of black smoke manifested in the center of the room, and your detector started blaring, as if to further announce the being's arrival.

"Speak of the Devil", He leered.

You wave the remnants of His dramatic entrance away from your face. Now your nachos were all sooty, and you were pissed.

"You got ashes all over my nachos!" The Devil frowned in bewilderment.

"You are bestowed with the honor of a visit from the Prince of Darkness Himself, and you are concerned with your silly little corn triangles? I should smite you where you sit."

"Silly little...?" Your eyes narrow. "Get out of my house." You search your corn triangles for anything salvageable, to no avail.

By now the Devil Himself is seething almost as much as you. The shade watches the two of you with unconcealed glee.

"You have something that belongs to me. And this isn't even your house, you're renting." He sneered.

"Well, I live here, so I'm calling it my house, and I want you to leave. Now. And this...person... promised their soul to me first."

The Devil curled His lips into a deeply disturbing frown. A shiver rushes down your spine. Perhaps you should not have been so quick-tempered.

"You were not serious about that exchange. There was no written contract. This soul is mine," the Devil hissed. At this, the shade attempts to clear its throat, but it comes out as a pathetic series of whistles.

"Actually, there is a written contract. I agreed to trade my soul in exchange for a week of dog-sitting..." The shade paused for dramatic effect before triumphantly declaring, "...through text!"

You rack your memory for someone you dog-sat for.

"Jeffrey?!"

"In the flesh!" The shade exclaimed, "or, ethereal vapor, rather."

"What?! But...you're dead! How'd you die? Why'd you make a deal with the Devil?"

"Oh, I was jaywalking and got hit by a truck. Technically, I'm not dead, but the machines are doing all the work. My wife'll have them pull the plug in a minute. She's in for a huge payout! That's what I made the deal for; I asked for enough money for me and my family to never need or want anything again. You know, the usual." The shade, or, Jeffrey, appeared to be staring off into the distance as he fondly recalled the events of his rather brief life. That Jeffrey had always been the sentimental type. The Devil turned to you, literally steaming with rage.

"That isn't binding! There's no signature!"

"Ah ah ah! Here, go get your phone." The shade gestures at you. You look around for your phone, but you left it in the kitchen after you made your nachos. Your now ruined nachos. You sigh heavily and head to the kitchen to get your phone and dump the ashy plate of what should have been the highlight of your day.

Luckily for Jeffrey, you never take the time to clear old text messages from your phone. It was over four years ago, but the conversation with Jeffrey was still there.

The spirit asks with a shit-eating grin, "Would you care to read...the time signature?" Jeffrey always had a flair for the dramatic. The Devil doesn't let you respond.

"That doesn't count! It's not your name!"

"That's not what the metadata says, ya old fart!" Jeffrey laughs.

At this point, the prince of darkness is steaming. You should have grabbed the fire extinguisher from the kitchen. You decide to make a second trip for it. When you return, there are now three figures in your living room. The being that brought this mess to your home has returned. It looks exhausted, despite not having flesh on its skeletal visage.

"No, by all laws of Death, this soul belongs to the mortal." The robed figure conjures into its bony fingers, or finger bones, rather, a massive tome that flips itself to a specific page. The Reaper quickly scans a page, flips the book around, and points out a paragraph to the Devil standing across from him (Her? Them? It?).

The Devil takes His time with the book, poring over every word on the page. You nervously ready the fire extinguisher. You try to see what He is reading, but the letters are unfamiliar to you. Must be some otherworldly alphabet.

The Devil turns to you, rage and flames in His eyes. For a moment, you think He really is going to smite you where you stand. But in an instant, His demeanor shifts. The fire in His eyes has died down to a cunning gleam. Now, you are truly frightened.

"Now, surely it doesn't have to be this way...perhaps we can make a deal? Your deepest desire in exchange for this one miserable, pathetic soul? It's not even your soul! You have absolutely nothing to lose. What do you say, mortal? What will it be?"

You glance at Jeffrey, who is pouting in a corner after being called miserable and pathetic. Somehow, he doesn't look the least bit concerned for the fate of his eternity. You look back at the Devil, who is rubbing His hands together with glee. He believes He is going to squirm His way out of being duped by a "miserable, pathetic soul". A brilliant idea crosses your mind, if you do say so yourself, and you do.

"Alright, it's a deal. I'll trade Jeffrey's soul." Your palms are sweaty, your arms are heavy, and your knees are weak, so you set down the fire extinguisher. Jeffrey disappears in a puff of smoke as soon as the words leave your mouth.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Now, what is it you desire? Money? Power? A sex slave? Knowledge?" The Devil is grinning broadly as he conjures a roll of parchment that somehow already has your signature, and signs it Himself with a flourish.

"It'll only cost you your souls."

“Sure, it’ll only cost you your soul” you used to jokingly say whenever you did something for free. Everyone always got a laugh out of it, and so did you! Until the first soul showed up in your living room with a very, very tired looking reaper.

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chaggie-supporter · 8 days ago

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Sunday special:

○|PT.8: DREAMT SOULS|○

I'm running through a forest. A luscious, green forest. I can immediately tell this isn't a place in hell. Its far too nice, but, it also seems familiar, like somewhere I used to know. It feels like I'm running from something. Moving past the trees and shrubbery quite fast, with the sun setting overhead.

I'm not running alone either. There's a girl, around my age, running with me. She seems quite familiar aswell, with a black hat, blond hair, and a pair of blue dungarees, a grey t-shirt under it.

She's beautiful.

Stunning, actually. Though I don't get an awful lot of time to admire this girl, as we just keep running. This is when I notice that I can't control my body. I just keep running no matter what I try to do, until eventually we stop at a cliff, beside a river, and some brilliant views of a mountain with the sun setting behind it. It's amazing. I almost recognise this place too.

After a moment of admiring the view, I realise why it's so recognisable. It's the woods I lived near on earth.

Before I can think about it much more, I look down to see the girl's arms around my chest, though, I can't feel the touch. She's.. crying? Why? She was fine just a minute ago. Is she hurt? Was it me? I try to tell her not to cry, that she's okay, but my mouth won't open, like it's glued shut. Another person, an older, middle aged looking man, emerges from the treeline, and he does not look happy. He looks furious, actually. What is going on? The girl is suddenly crying more, and before I can think about it, a knife lands, piercing my neck. I can't move or pull it out, and the last thing I see is the weeping girl.

I know why I recognise her.

I suddenly wake up back in my room in the Hazbin Hotel. It was a dream. I'm thrown back into my own harsh reality.

I'll never truly see that girl again.

I sigh, getting up and heading down the stairs, to be greeted with a certain red haired cyclops, playing with bugs.

Niffty.

"Oh, hi niffty." I call to her as I approach.

"Oh hi there! Have you come to see my show? heheheheh" she says back with a manic laugh. What?

"Uhm.. no.. no I haven't." I answer. Is she here just to play with bugs?

"Hey, niffty? Why are you here? At the hotel I mean." I ask her curiously, crouching down to her height.

"Oh! Mr. Alastor brought me and Husk here. He needs me to clean." She responds back, nonchalantly. Alastor brought them here? And they agreed?

"Well how come if you guys agreed to work here, Husk is always so miserable at his bar?" I inquire.

"Well we didn't agree- well I did, but it doesn't matter, he owns our souls!" She says, a bit too casually, as if we were talking about the weather.

"He what- he- how?" I ask, slightly dumbfounded. How does he simply own their souls?

"We each made a deal with him! Duh!" She replies, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"So you can just.. give away your soul down here? Really? Just like that?" I ask, still shocked.

"Well yeah! That's just how it is down here, hehe" she says with another cackle.

"And he can just.. make you do whatever he wants? All the time?" I ask, to which she smiles happily and nod.

"Yup! And usually, he's really nice!" She says. Why do I not believe that? She then looked around for a moment, and said, " Oh my goodness! It's still so icky in here! You should help me clean the whole place!" And before I fan protest, she whisks me away to the fireplace, where she jumps up on it to clean something above, knocking over a vase and a picture of charlie and her parents, which I both catch, just on time.

"Jeez- be careful, niffty." I scold.

"Oops! Sorry! She says back.

She starts climbing on different chairs, couches, tables, and anything else she can find that supports her weight. Everytime, knocking something over, which I managed to catch most times. I missed a small gadget, it looked like something pentious made, so I don't really care for it. After a while she stopped.

"I'm gonna go kill some bugs now. But.. you are invited to my roach puppet show later on!" She hands me a peice of paper, which has a crudely drawn drawing of a bug on it, before scurrying off. Huh. Weird. I put the peice in my pocket, before heading to my next destination: the bar.

"Husk." I, deciding to get straight to the point. "Does Alastor own your soul?"

"Yup. Don't gamble, kid." He says. That's it? No explanation, not even looking up from the bottle he was cleaning. "He owns millions. That's why he's an overlord, dumbass." Oh. Well now I feel stupid.

"That's alot." I state, not really knowing what else to say. The silence is awkward, after I heard from Charlie that I allegedly passed out after something less than a dozen drinks.

As the silence grows, I decide to get up and leave, going to my room, where I can think: why? No, how does Alastor own Husk's soul? Niffty too, but no one seems to know the first thing about her. But Husk seems smart enough. How did he let Alastor get his hands on his soul?

After a while of sitting there, maybe 10 minutes, maybe a few hours, I don't know, I get up, and head to Niffty's roach puppet show.

#hazbin hotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hellaverse oc #chapter #oc chapter #oc art #oc story #alex #sunday special #husk #husker #niffty #hazbin niffty #soul

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everafterkeiji · 3 years ago

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well, I've been following you for a few months and I really adore your hcs, tokrev x reader stories, and I know that you are currently with requests closed but I had to write it down before I forgot lmao, I wanted to know how the characters of tokyo revengers would react (preference in mikey, chifuyu, baji maybe mitsuya) having a s / o fem that is very popular among boys AND GIRLS, I mean that girls confess to her, some prepare bentos for them or on Valentine's Day he has many letters and chocolates / cookies, sometimes even more than them, and as it would be if they ever hear when a girl is confessing to her or find letters in her bag from girls, obviously the reader is a bit used to it but they do not know if reader would agree to go out with a person of the same gender and they are worried , you can ignore this request is just ago that has appeared in my mind and I think you have similar jobs but they are just boys and the truth is I WANT TO DRAMA WITH A BISEXUAL FEM READER LMAO, I needed to write it and ask u! have a nice day / night <33

oh to be yn😔 i liked this request a lot so thank u so much for sending it in!! sorry if this took long but have a lovely day too ♪ヽ(･ˇ∀ˇ･ゞ) ♡ thank u so much for loving my work!! (づ￣ ³￣)づ also it was mentioned that reader could be bi so( ´◡‿ゝ◡`) also ily babe thanks for decluttering my head again @strawberiya

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐒/𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒

PAIRINGS: Mikey, Baji, Chifuyu, & Mitsuya x fem! reader

GENRE: fluff, humor

♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘 has his head slanted when a shy group of girls were murmuring with pink tinted cheeks on his way with Valentine decorated bags and before he can confidently stand to reject them, those same girls walked pass him, letting out a few squeals when they meet the one they've been waiting for which leads the blonde to blink, as well as Draken.

He turns around to see what was the chaos about and that's where he saw his lover being smothered in praises and gifts while you were politely bowing to thank them which makes them even more flustered. To his side, Draken lets out a cackle at the misinterpreted situation as Mikey huffs.

"Well if that isn't funny." His best friend mocks.

- He doesn't mind at first because it's what you deserved anyway. With all that mounts of love, if he was in your place, he'd feel pretty good about it but he scratches that imagination off because he's too comfortable in trusting you.

- Though, he is pretty irritated when you're carrying bucket loads of gifts and it sucks that they weren't given to you by him. He wanted to be the one to be able to give that all to you—not some mere classmates he doesn't even know.

"I could buy you all of that." He huffs, crossing his arms to his chest while you kissed his cheek.

"And you know I'm fine with whatever, Mikey."

- He would sometimes think it's actually a good deal because he gets to eat almost all the chocolates, munching on it when class is ongoing, opening your backpack just to steal some. "Babe, I don't think I need to bring money for school again." He says, nudging you, still a chip in his mouth. "How come?" You asked.

"Your fans have us covered for breakfast and lunch."

- Speaking of your backpack, he can't help but notice how there were stacks of envelopes on a certain corner with different designs on each of them. He knew it wasn't his business to pay attention to but it sure makes him pout at how you were being admired by lots of people but it doesn't faze him for the mean time because whatever was written there, he can agree since he too was a fool for you.

- Back to food, you were a walking magnet for it. When you're out in PE, thirsty and panting, there's at least three people offering you their water bottles and Mikey was left with none of that. You decline their kindness because you had a bottle of your own and everyone else awes when you let the blonde drink from yours as he pokes his tongue out to the audience because he knew he won.

- Some girls would approach Mikey, handing him folded paper while he points to himself as they nod and he was sure that it felt like a fever dream. "Are you.. confessing to me?" He questions and when they began to shake their heads, he sarcastically smiles at them, gently grabbing the envelope now that he got the message. "Yeah yeah I'll take this to Y/N."

- On his way, he encounters a few shared words coming from a girl and your nervous chuckle makes known of your existence to him. He peaks through the corner, his ears growing at the sound of gossip but when he heard he nothing but compliments to you and the genuine feelings of the girl, he realizes how you get this on daily. "I'm gonna say no." You kindly answered her as she nods and gave you a bento instead.

"That looks so good." Mikey suddenly says, looking at the food in your hands and the two of you turn to him while he waves awkwardly.

- The next time someone confesses to you and said person was a male, he will jump into the situation when he spots you two. Slinging an arm over your shoulder, a subtle glare with a squint to his eyes as he uses it as an intimidation mechanism.

"Uh.. Mikey-san-"

"No continue." He urges him, while you pursed your lips to hold back that smile of yours when you felt how he was trying to prove a point. The classmate of yours clears his throat, actually obeying Mikey's words and continuing to shower you in compliments but abruptly stops when he hears a hum from your boyfriend. "Yes, I know Y/N is pretty." He adds, agreeing to the younger boy.

"Can we be friends, Y/N-san? I want to know you more!"

"No." Mikey answered for you before you could even say the same thing. Both eyes traveled to him while you can only bid a glance knowing it was the right answer. "But can we-"

"No. Y/N-" he points to you. " 'S Mine. So back off, bye bye."

- He feels like he's walking beside a superstar. You were greeted by everyone you passed by and Mikey wonders if his purpose was to be a bodyguard. "Y/N, come with me. They might rob us." It was similar to when he'd start a Toman meeting, walking in the middle as the others bow down to him.

- He adjusts himself to get used to it because it was a craze—something that wouldn't go away even if he existed and besides, you weren't interested in any of them, quickly turning them down and returning the letters with your response but it does make him wonder about the possibilities that if you two broke up, could you possibly date those same people who liked you?

"Oi." He calls out to you, a stubborn pout to his lips while you turned to him. "Yeah?"

"Would you.. date them if we..break up?"

"Date who, Mikey?"

"Those girls and those boys who confess to you." He mutters, as if he was ashamed to ever ask such a question. You let your hand rest on his shoulder while the other was to his hair, running it through since he removed his updo. "Mikey, I wouldn't date them even if we did separate. Although I don't prefer much, I'm always going to pick you." With your words, he does give in—relieved at the thought of your loyalty.

"So that's it huh? You're really gonna let me break up with you?" He argues, crossing his arms to his chest with a scowl, marching away from you while you laugh.

"Mikey come back!"

♡ 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈 didn't pay much attention to the stares that you'd get together but when you were just strutting down the hallways, skimming through your notes to get pass a quiz you fell asleep to study on, that's where he notices a shit ton of hearts forming in their pupils, pushing each other to greet you while you look up and smile at them in return.

But even if the halls were scattered in admirers, your path led right to Baji who was awestruck as you embraced him. "Morning, hun!" You brightly greet him and there were tense eyes drawn to him from the front, glowing in envy how he was the winner. He pulls away, a smirk, happily kissing your temple, letting his arm drop to your waist then he looks back to the audience, a grin to showcase how it sucks for their situation.

- He can see through their intention and that gives him an advantage and an angel on his shoulder to tell him he shouldn't beat them up. He can't even argue with himself—the knuckles weren't mean for silly crushes but again, the counterargument was that it was you being confessed to.

- He trusts you a shit lot but it doesn't mean he worries less. It wasn't that clear at first because he belittled just how these people were in terms of their admiration to you but when he sees how there's a line, resembling a fan event, just to talk to you—he silently loses his mind.

- He will make them jealous since that was his only tactic to give a response to what he thinks with all of this going on. "Look at me, please." Baji says, tapping ur head while you followed through as he uses his thumb to wipe away the smudge of food on the corner of your lips and like he expected, there's a chorus of groans and comments saying "I wish that was me."

Which makes him pull away with a smile. "Got it, babe!"

- He would definitely question why you're not eating from the food of the cafeteria. "Well—someone made this for me... I just didn't want to waste their efforts." You excused, biting on the onigiri that a girl cooked for you. Baji scoffs. "That's probably not even as good to my meal! Can I have a try?" You nodded, handing it to him while you and Chifuyu eye his reaction.

The minute he took a plunge in it, his eyes drop to the table at how it tasted, a smile threatening to paint his lips and you and the blonde let out a loud cackle before your boyfriend returns it to you, trying to look unimpressed. "So—was it that good, babe?" You teased him, holding onto his shoulders with a few chuckles slipping through you.

"Definitely not... but can I.. eat that when you don't like it anymore-"

- When somebody confeses to you, Chifuyu would hold him back sometimes. It would be at spontaneous moments where you're just on your desk, fresh from a nap while someone sits on his chair, trying to let their feelings be acknowledged by you but when they had the guts to reach for your hand since you were still trying to shake up your senses, that's where his best friend lets go of your boyfriend.

"Oi, oi! Y/N just woke up, quit making moves on my girl."

"Hm? Kei? Oh—sorry, I didn't hear you, what was it?" You yawned, rubbing your eyes at the person in front of you but from your blurry view, you can only picture out Baji being bowed at multiple times.

- Another instance is when he usually creeps up on you when you're being handed a letter along with a few hints that they wanted to initiate something. His head is peaking through the wall, making sure he hears every word being shared but he realizes he looked like a maniac so he comes out from where he stood.

"Y/N-san you're kindness is—is—"

"What about it? Is it cool? That's Y/N for you." Baji says, entering the scene with hands to his pockets while you smiled. "I appreciate you for being honest but I have a boyfriend." You answered the boy as he sighs out of disappointment but takes the answer.

"Y'know I can confess to you right here, right now—even better than he did." Baji taunts.

- Now, if someone stepped the fuck up and there's balloons, heart shaped chocolates, literally a galore just to tell you how they feel, the three of you are dumbfounded—mind flying to space at how he prepared it all for you. "Y/N! Please take the chocolates even if you reject me!" The boy begs, while the social pressure was surrounding you. Baji notices this and walks right up to the other person, taking the box from his hands, giving it to you before he's patting your back.

"I know you don't like those stuff so don't worry. "

-Due to how many of them are there, it can't be helped that their envy for your boyfriend was flooding their minds to the point they talk bad about him, more so when they tell it to you straight. "Baji-kun won't treat you right."

"Excuse me? You don't get to say shit about him when he's the best that there is." You defended him and an interested Baji shows up from behind you. "But-"

"If you think telling me you're gonna do better than Keisuke then you can leave. What good is a confession when you're disrespecting my boyfriend?" And without a word, he turns his heel, walking away to escape your gaze while you let out a sigh and you were faced with a grinning Baji.

"I'm the best? I think that's you, Y/N."

- Returning back to how much he trusts you, the worry does die down when each of their gifts were received with no feedback that you'd pick them over him but he'd still be curious when it comes to you dating someone else. "Babe? I have something to ask you."

"Sure, Kei."

"Do you ever think about dating other people?" You leaned your head to his shoulder, clinging to his arm as you hummed, thinking about your response. "I'm fine with dating anyone but it won't matter if I'm not gonna end up with you."

"And as if I'd let you go." Baji comments, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a smile.

♡ 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐘𝐔 has always known about it but he tends to be caught in a mess between being proud of you or being cautious because he's seen it in action too many times. "It's Valentines and you're getting more letters than I do." He pouts while you held his hand. "Oh hush, y'know your letter to me back then is still the superior one here but I gotta go to the bathroom first." You teased, remembering the day you said yes to him before letting go of him to leave as he chuckled until there's a tap to his shoulder.

".. yes?" He lets out when he sees a shy girl handing him a letter with flustered cheeks. He's looking left and right just to make sure this was reality. "I-well-I have Y/N." He stutters, new to the whole gesture while the girl nods, raising an eyebrow. "I know you have Y/N-san, that's the point." She answered which gave off a very bad impression to him so he reaches for his tie, using it to to clear his nervousness at how serious she was.

"Please—Y/N! Please accept this letter of my confession!" She suddenly shouted when you came out of the bathroom while both pairs of eyes widen. You shyly take it in your hand while Chifuyu is amazed and at shock so he mutters,

"... Huh?"

- Since then, he's keeping a scoreboard. He only has one point because you were the only one that was giving him sweet gifts for the day but when it came to you, you're up to 15—give or take.

- He feels intimidated. How come you're so... Bright? You were like a light that was attracting all sorts of people and even as you walk by, you're being stared or greeted by lower and upper classmen combined. Though, when he looks at you, you're not bothered and it adds to his curiosity.

- He tries to be comfortable with it but when he goes through the hallways, he can sense that there are hands waiting to grab you but what surprises him is that you'd always walk with him, hands intertwined and a smile to your lips because you were with him and nobody else so that eases him for the mean time.

- On the other half of what he thinks, he does find it cute. While the others were struggling to catch your attention, he was merely sitting down and you're already beside him in a snap. He won't lie and say he doesn't claim some sort of power from it. It was also the fact that they were throwing compliments to you here and there—that's the part where he agrees the most knowing you deserved everything.

- Occasionally, he will show off his privileges. When it's raining and some people were waiting for the opportunity to offer you their umbrellas, Chifuyu is already smirking at how perfect it is. "Crap, I forgot mine." You cussed after looking into your bag. Your boyfriend has a coy smile on as he grabs his own umbrella before a group could even step up to talk.

Pulling you by the waist as he opens it, just by the sight of your smile—he knew no one else could do it like him. You sling your arm to wrap around his stomach. "Thanks, Chifuyu." You bid him while he looks at all the slumped faces of the others. "You wish that was you, huh?"

"What was that, Chi?"

"Nothing, babe!"

- He'd even get Baji to join in, which was miraculous that he even agreed. These two were up to no good anyway so when their walking to their classrooms, they're going by a script. "I heard you were gonna take Y/N to a picnic today." Baji says, emphasizing on the picnic while Chifuyu has on a smug smile.

"Yes, yes, indeed. We're gonna have soo much fun."

- He will steal your food but he's sending a tiny glare to the people at the cafeteria when he finds an exact favorite chocolate of yours. "How come they got all of them? Hmp." He huffs but he still threw one into his mouth while you chuckled.

- He, along with Baji, would scout the corners of the school when you're out to get something because he knew someone would be hot on your trail so when the two of them find you with a boy, standing oddly calm, they feel like they nailed their search. "I've been admiring you for a while and I'd really like to know you more." The boy said, which still was a bit surprising to you knowing he was also popular.

"I have a boyfriend so I will say no." You answered. He lets out a defeated sigh but before he could leave, you know those butterflies made from paper that can fly around and shit, he gives you one of those which unfortunately made you smile at how cool it was. Chifuyu scoffs in the background, even Baji was amazed, which leads your boyfriend to come out.

"Unoriginal." He argued just for you to hear. "Y/N likes it simple." He added while you held onto his shoulder.

"That is true."

- He would question if he should step up his own game. Everyone who likes you seems to outdo him and its weirdly pressuring him so the next time you have a date after school, he's switching from his uniform to a way fancier get up than his usual taste. So when you walk out of the stall from changing your own clothes, your eyes went straight to him.

"Chi, you look so good. Are we going to a restaurant?"

"No, just to movies, cutie."

"Hm, you sure you're comfortable in that?" You asked him, noticing how awkward his arms fit into the tight turtleneck and how fidgety he was at the neck, adjusting it so he doesn't choke. You shake your head, coming his way, handing him a jacket you used earlier. "Just wear this. Don't get me wrong—you're as handsome as always but I know you wouldn't want to sit two hours in that."

"You're right. Thanks, babe." Chifuyu says giving in with a kiss to your cheek.

- He wouldn't ask you if you were willing to date other people—that's gonna make him overthink the entire day so he settles for subtle signs of your possible answer. He also doesn't want to make you uncomfortable by how he thought of such a question so he'll stay low for now.

- Somehow, he does get the answer he's looking for when you're looking at the letters in your room, sighing at how many they are. "They sure are nice with all of these." You ranted but you leaned your head on his chest, smiling when he wraps his arms around you.

"But you're always the one, Chifuyu."

♡ 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐘𝐀 finds it adorable but he belittles just how your beauty was impacting onto his classmates. One time, he was simply leading the sewing club, checking everything they asked him to do, observing like usual but that was until a certain row of seats were lightly nudging each other when he walked pass them, endless chorus of mutters he can't comprehend since he was focused on helping someone. Much to their anxiousness, they actually stand behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.

He turns around, eyeing the envelope decorated in hearts in their hands as he sighs, realizing what was it about. "That's cute but-"

"Can you please give to this Y/N-san! We admire her so much!" They shout, bowing at him, shyness coming through their systems at how they asked your boyfriend. He stood frozen for three seconds, trying to register what happened but in the end, he smiles when he sees you open the door to their room, eyes intent on searching for his.

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Mitsuya suddenly suggested, pointing to the door where you stood, waving at him as he ushers the two girls to go to you.

- He doesn't find it annoying or worth spending his jealousy on it. He finds himself in some of your admirers, looking like an absolute tool to be that in love with you and he definitely understands why they're all flustered to approach because he was the same.

- Because of the girls that were in his class that'd talk about you when he's with them, he feels like the sewing club began to be a fandom just for some of the members there. He's chuckling at every question they ask about you as if he was the president of your simp group. "Really? I bet Y/N-san looked amazing on your first date, Mitsuya-kun!"

"She was more than amazing. I even had my first kiss with her." He boasts while there was a mix of awes and envious sighs.

- He's going to encourage them to speak up to you. He finds it funny how they were hesitant to be around you so before you could leave him to go to your own club, he insists that you stay for some fan service. "Love, come here, I wanna show you something." Mitsuya says pulling you in the room as they take notice of your appearance, they're ushering to surround you two which makes him chuckle.

"This is so well done, Mitsu! Did you do this?" You asked, feeling through the fabric of the dress. He shakes his head, grabbing Kai from the audience to introduce you to her. "She's the designer."

"Oh I know you! Your work is amazing." You said, smiling at her while there are stars in her eyes as she holds your hand. "T-thank you!"

And no you didn't get to go to your club because you were caught up in the room with them.

- He's used to it by now. The girls weren't a problem to him seeing how they look up to you and all that but it even seems that his on their side. "Y/N's favorites? You wanna know?" He teases while they nod. "Fine fine, I'll tell but don't go stealing her and leaving me out."

- When it comes to guys confessing to you, he doesn't find it troublesome unless they're really pushy. He's spotted many letters in your locker, in your bag, even on your desk so if they settle for something like that, he won't have a problem with it.

- That is when someone gets too cocky to the point they're making too many moves and your uncomfortableness is invisible to their eye but it could never be like that for Mitsuya. When he sees you walking away but they insist that you pay attention to them, he's already pulling the guy off of you.

"I get that you like my girlfriend but pay some respect while you're at it." He comments with you behind him. "You okay, darling?" He whispers, turning to you when the boy left.

"Thank you, Takashi."

- He'd be the type to edge the boys that'd confess in front of you. He's in a corner, arms crossed while he eats a snack and it looks as if he was judging the boys performance. "You told her she looked beautiful twice. Don't you have any other compliment? Talk about her eyes then." He comments, pointing out a mistake while the other boy was dumbfounded.

- Everyone does take note of you having a boyfriend so it does shock him when suddenly they're giving him gifts too, especially when he thought they were meant to be given to you but was actually for him. You're just leaning on the door with a smile while he carries a paper bag from one of them. "Well aren't you famous?" You joked as he kisses your nose.

"You're one to talk, princess."

- He doesn't worry about you two breaking up or will he ever think about it because if he did, he can already feel the heartache that would consume him so he doesn't need to ask you for your preference from the number of possible suitors but he will make sure you're his regardless of what happens.

"Y/N, love, you dropped a letter. That's the last of your mail from your locker, you should give it a read." He says, pointing to the envelope to the floor so you pick it up, familiar at the handwriting as you read it, and every now and then—a smile tugs on your lips while he watches.

"Well, some guy named Mitsuya Takashi from TLE asked me to be his girlfriend." You commented, slinging your arms to his neck while he looks over the empty classroom. In return, he wraps his own to your waist, pulling you closer. "So what's your answer, Y/N?"

"I think he'd be an amazing boyfriend. Don't you think?"

"Oh absolutely."

TOKYO REV : @strawberrieas @kwrg @raya-sano @kimrena-stuff @heavensbeloved @rosewood1999 @beezebub @l-luci @bekky06 @keiisukebaji @manjiroarchiviste @smileysmileysmiley @tendo-shairdye @toshiswifey @thispenguinrocks @kleesboom

OVERALL: @stesphy @itsmeaudrieee @crapimahuman @meguroshi @floydenai @dai-tsukki-desu

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